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#blanked for one or two hours and now we have this
bolithesenate · 4 months
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Sifo-Dyas never found his crystal...
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... but that's okay because he has Dooku.
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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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niennanir · 10 months
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Listen to your elders
So last week I posted abut the importance of downloading your fic. And then three days later AO3 went down for 24 hours. No one was more weirded out by this than I was. But while y’all were acting like the library at Alexandria was on fire I was reading my download fic and editing chapter eight of Buck, Rogers, and the 21st Century. And also thinking about what I could do to be helpful when the crisis was actually over.
So first off, I’m going to repeat that if you’re going to bookmark a fic, you really need to also download the fic and back it up in a safe place. I just do it automatically now and it’s a good habit to get into.
But let’s talk about some other scenarios. Last October I lost power for over a week after hurricane Ian. Apart from not having internet or A/C I did find plenty to do, I collect books so I had plenty to read, but maybe, unlike me, your favorite comfort reads aren’t sitting on a bookshelf. So let’s do something about that, shall we?
In olden times many long years ago around 1995 we printed off a lot of fic. It was mostly SOP to print a fic you planned to reread and stick it in a three ring binder. And that’s totally valid today too, but you can also make a very nice paperback with a minimum amount of skill and materials.
Let’s start with the download; Go to Ao3 and select your fic, we’ll be working with one of mine. This method works best with one shots, long fic tends to need a more complicated approach. Get yourself an HTML download
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Open up the HTML download and select all then copy paste into any word processor. Set the page to landscape and two columns, then change the font to something you find easy to read, this is your book, no judgement. This is all you have to do for layout but I like to play a little bit. I move all the meta, summary, notes to the end and pick out a fun font for the title: 
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No time like the present to do a quick proofread. Congratulations, you’ve just created your first typeset. On to the fun part.
Now you’re going to need some materials:  8.5x11in paper ruler one sheet of 12x12 medium card stock (60-80lb) scissors pencil pen or fine tip marker sheet of wax paper white glue two binder clips 2 heavy books or 1 brick butter knife
You’ll also need a printer, if you’re in the US there is almost a 100% chance your local library has a printer you can use if you don’t have your own. None of these materials are expensive and you can literally use cheap copy paper and Elmers glue.
Print your text block, one page per side. Fold the first page in half so that the blank side is inside and the printed side out:
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use the butter knife to crease the edge. Repeat on all the sheets. When you’ve finished, stack them up with the raw edge on the left and the folded edge on the right. I used standard copy paper, because you’re only printing on one side there’s no bleed to worry about. Take the text block and line everything up. Use the binder clips to hold the raw edge in place.
Wrap the text block in the wax paper so that the raw edge and binder clips are facing out. I’m going to use my home built book press but you don’t need one, a brick or a couple of books or anything else heavy will work fine.
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Once the text block is anchored down, take off he binder clips and get out the glue.
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You can use a brush but you don’t need one, smear some glue on that raw edge.
Go make a margarita, watch The Mandalorian, call your mother. Don’t come back for at least an hour
In an hour smear some more glue on there and shift your brick forward so that the whole book is covered. This keeps the paper from warping. While glue part 2 is drying we’ll do the cover. Get out your 12x12 cardstock
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Mark the cardstock off at 8.5 inches and cut it. Measure in 5.5 inches from the left and put in a score line with the butter knife (the back edge not the sharp edge)
Carefully fold the score line, this is your front cover. You have some options for the cover title, you can use a cutting machine like a cricut if you have one, you can print out a title on the computer and use carbon paper to transfer the text to the cardstock. I was in a mood so I just freehanded that beoch. Pencil first then in pen.
Take your text block out from under your brick. Line it up against the score mark and mark the second score on the other side of the spine
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Fold the score and glue the textblock into the cover at the spine. Once the glue dries up mark the back cover with the pencil and then trim the back cover to fit with your scissors.
Voila:
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I’m going to put this baby on the shelf next to the Silmarillion.
The whole process, not counting drying time, took less than an hour.
If you want to make a book of a longer fic, I recommend Renegade Publishing, they have a ton of resources for fan-binders. 
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casiia · 5 months
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༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; smile for the camera.
warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, very slight exhibition (i think?), v! penetration, choking, size kink, female reader, unedited.
.: masterlist.
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simon has STACKS of polaroids of you for when he’s next deployed. you had bought the polaroid camera, all excited to pick up a new hobby; photography. he thought it was stupid, but doesn’t stop you and your aspiring career. you’re taking pictures of everything for the next few weeks. capturing every memory the two of you shared, and piles of pictures were scattered around each room in the house — random ones, blurred ones, blank ones that didn’t develop right.
when you suggest taking pictures for him one night, he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. why’d he have to waste his precious time and take pictures of you when you’re right here?
he still doesn’t understand. he huffs when you climb off of his lap and scurry into your shared bedroom, the soft mutters of the christmas movie you put on for background noise the only thing that catches his attention — and it annoys him. you come back, your shirt hiked up over your bra and the bulky coral-colored camera in hand. 
you sit back onto his lap, shoving the polaroid into his hand and guiding his finger onto the button. he accidentally clicks it, a flash blinding you momentarily and you laugh. 
“eager are we?”
he sucked on his teeth, his eyes rolling at your poor attempt to tease him. his free hand moves to your waist and dips his fingers below the hem of your shorts. you swat his hand away with a pout, mumbling something about patience but he’s too horny to hear – or care. 
simon lowers the camera as you begin to pull your shirt over your head, you whine and tell him to hold it right. but he snaps back and complains that it’s blocking his view. 
it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you pout and tell him just to listen to you. he begrudgingly listens, muttering a retort under his breath that makes you smack his arm and shift off of his lap. but he’s quick to tug you back, saying he’s sorry and you’re just teasing him too much.
you shake your head, your finger hovering his, over the shutter button. you reach back with the other and undo your bra, letting it slip from your shoulder and into his lap. it’s then when you press down and simon takes a picture, your bare breast developing on the film as it slides out the exit slot. now he understands.
he watches with tight lips, waiting for the picture to develop and practically watching it turn into gold in front of his eyes. simon laughs in disbelief and looks at you, he wonders if this was your plan all along. play with it for a little before using it to make souvenirs for him, what a good girlfriend you were.
the hours blend and he has you bent and folded in every position he knows. it’s so embarrassing, and you find yourself covering your face or squeezing your thighs together, now trying to sheepishly hide from the lens.
but he tuts, reminding you that it was your idea. you can’t hide from him and if you try, he’ll keep you up all night — until he’s filled his album with enough pictures to relive any memory of you in bed.
he’s leaned back onto the sofa, one hand in your hair and one hand holding up the camera. he’s groaning loudly as you gag around his cock, your wide eyes fluttering up to meet his. he’s drooling at the sight, tears staining your blushed cheeks and dripping down your chin.
simon spreads his legs and angles the camera down to catch a glimpse of the way you have a hand wrapped around the base of his cock — too big for you to fit it all in your mouth. he snaps a picture, the flash making little dots cloud your vision.
you giggle, pulling your lips off of him to which he annoyingly grunts, trying to push back into your mouth.
“how many more of these are y’gonna take?”
you ask, pressing your cheek into the inside of his thigh. you’re not even looking at him anymore, so focused on his cock and the way your saliva makes his foreskin glisten.
he can’t resist, simon takes another picture and pulls the developing film from the dispenser, tossing it into the pile with the other pictures he’s taken. your face just looks so small aligned with his cock, the angle making him so much larger than he was.
“m’takin as many as i want. what am i gonna do when i miss you when i’m away and need to release some stress?”
simon tugs at your hair, nodding over to the cushions next to him. his hands immediately find your waist when you stand and he pushes you down into the couch. your hair sprawling over the pillows as you look up at him with wide eyes.
another giggle escapes you, your hand covers your mouth to suppress the laughter. it wasn’t that you were surprised about him being so needy, it’s the way he had a mountain of pictures lazily tossed into a pile. film wrappers crumpled lazily and strewn across the coffee table, the packages once holding refills for the film.
“what’s funny, bun?”
simon’s voice is hoarse, he’s spreading your legs and another picture is added to his collection. the way your cunt is glistening with the flash, your juices smeared on your inner thighs. he swears he’s going to cherish these forever, keep them around til’ they are all tattered and barely visible.
your breath is knocked from your lungs, and you can’t form words no matter how hard you try. he’s sliding his cock in between your folds, nudging your clit with his angry red tip. you whine, your hips bucking up to meet his, needing more friction to ease your arousal; and he takes another picture, how he wishes these images could capture sounds.
he’s pressing his fat, heavy cock against your stomach, a groan spilling from his lips when his tip is leaking just below your belly button. simon smears his precum against your skin, translucent globs dribbling from his slit.
“look at that, gonna be in your fuckin’ stomach.”
simon grins at the sight, but before he gives you the pleasure of filling you up, he’s leaning over you and pressing his lips to your neck. your fingernails dig into his shoulders, crescents forming under your touch, and a slew of apologies is mumbled under your shaky breath.
he hums into the crook of your neck, nipping harshly at your skin before dragging his rough tongue over the spot — soothing the bite. simon trails down to your breast, leaving a path of love bites and covering you in his mark.
while he has you distracted, he shifts his hips and pushes himself into you slowly sinking in inch by inch before he’s balls deep. he leans back and he groans at the sight, you are completely exposed for him with his bitemarks sloppily etched into your skin, a bulge forming in your belly. he slides his calloused hand up in between the valley of your breast and he wraps his hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly, and when you moan quietly as if flustered like it’s the first time he has you filled with his cock —  he snaps another picture. afraid that this moment will vanish.
that was the last of the film that he has. but god, it’s worth it. he promises he’ll buy you more in the morning, but he’s dropped the camera and holding you close. his throbbing cock plunging in and out of your squelching cunt, your juices painting his abdomen, shining his muscles under the dim light.
when he has to leave, he gathers EVERY SINGLE ONE and hides it in between the pages of an old magazine. no one would be caught dead snooping through his things, but it was a precaution he took because he didn’t want you exposed for all of his teammates to see. you were his, and he was never one of share.
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AN: guys...i don't even have words tbh. just simon and like he WOULD take so many pics i'm just sooo :((( urgh. i hate him. if i missed any warnings lmk!
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evielmostdefinitely · 4 months
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Imagine how distraught snow would be if his wife had a really rough time giving birth to their child where she’s coming in and out of conscience and there’s blood and he’s terrified she won’t make it like his mother leading to him hating the baby for a little bc of how badly his wife was recovering sorry for the angst! Ignore this if uncomfortable <3
forever winter |young!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: as requested, troubles with child birth leaves coriolanus very cold towards your son.
contains: angst. mentions of parental death, blood, complications during birth. darkish coriolanus. kinda fluffy-ish end?
Coriolanus knew the horrors of childbirth. He knew the dangers, the risks. He’d seen the blank stares of a new mother rocking her baby, eyes blank and distant like she’d been through war. He’d heard the solemn whispers in a dim room, quiet and hushed, darting eyes that looked everywhere but the casket- sometimes two. His own mother had been torn from his grasp at a young age because of it, and for a while, he was sure he’d never let his own wife experience it. 
Then he met you. 
You who lit his world up from the inside out, who he rose only each day to see- to love. You who cradled a baby at your engagement announcement, a friend’s newborn, held him so naturally and delicately that it ignited something inside Coriolanus. He wanted a dozen babies with you, he decided at that moment that he’d do anything to make it happen. 
You’d blossomed so naturally, swelled up overnight. Round belly and a glowing demeanor- it was addictive to Coriolanus. How he’d brag, boast proudly to anyone who’d hear it- his wife pregnant, he couldn’t be happier. 
All those fears, worries, were replaced with new ones. Horror stories about infants, toddlers. His own consuming thoughts about being a father. The idea of childbirth was nothing but a fading thought to him. That had been in the war, technology was better, he was in a better place. Your father had ensured his darling daughter would have the best of the best- you always did. The best doctors, the best birthing suite, the best nursery- the best. 
But money couldn’t buy your own body betraying itself at birth. It didn’t stop the bleeding, the paling of your skin as you fluttered in and out of consciousness. 
You’d grunted like an animal, tearing yourself into two for hours, cursing Coriolanus’ name, begging him to make it stop, crushing his hands with your legs up in the stirrups, pushing your baby out. 
Coriolanus was in awe of you, though he’d never get the chance to tell you. How you’d willed yourself to hurt yourself, inflict that selfless pain to bring life into the world. It was positively poetic. 
He’d been so overjoyed hearing your babies gargled cry, the nurses announcing its gender- his gender. His son. A boy. A beautiful boy, wailing and delicate and covered in matter that Coriolanus didn’t even care about when he held him close to his own chest. 
“What is it, Coryo?” You muttered, eyes drooping, chest heaving with aftershocks of pain from the birth. 
“A boy, my love.” Coryo’s eyes shone with tears, lips pressing together to conceal it. “It’s a boy. Our boy, my darling.” 
“A boy…” Your speech was slurred, head lolling back onto the pillow. 
Coriolanus noticed for the first time how still the room had become, his son’s wailing the only sound. The nurses and doctors, once chipper and gleeful, now bearing a sickly paleness to their face, eerily quiet. 
“What? What’s wrong?” Coriolanus snapped, eyes wide, frantic, bouncing around the room. “What’s happening?” 
“We-We can’t find-” The doctor’s voice shook, ducked between your legs in a pile of crimson. Coriolanus’ stomach turned violently. 
“She’s bleeding. We-We can’t find where the bleeding is.” The nurse whispered. 
“What?” Coriolanus snapped. “Bleeding? H-How can she- Find it!” The baby wailed over the sound of Coriolanus’ demanding barks. 
“President Snow, we-we’re trying our best-” 
“-Try harder.” Coriolanus sneered, clutching the baby closer to his chest. “If anything happens to my wife, I will single handedly ensure your bloodline ends with you. Each of you will know what it feels like to lose your family too if you lose her.” He spat, sending the nurses and doctors into a fearful frenzy. 
The newborn wailed, doctors shouted, and Coriolanus’ ears rang, his chest too tight, painfully tight. He couldn’t lose you, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t survive that loss. His eyes fell to the screeching baby beneath him, scrunched face and wailing gums. How was he to raise this baby without you? 
Anger boiled through his chest at the sight of his son- his fault. A cowering nurse, frozen in shaking fear in the corner, watched him carefully as he stormed towards her. “Take this.” Coriolanus sneered, shoving the baby in her arms. 
He hated the feeling, the helplessness that consumed him as he stood, wide eyed and shaking hands he clenched into fists. 
Somewhere, somehow, the doctor found the bleeding, stopping it with a triumphant cry. “Get the blood, get the blood!” He shouted, head hooked over his shoulder. “Infuse it now!” 
Coriolanus wasn’t sure he could remember how to breathe. Memories of the two of your: the moment you met, the first date, his shaking hands asking for yours in marriage, the way you beamed under your veil at the altar, the same glow that you had when you told him you were pregnant. It could all be gone so easily. Had his father felt this way? So helpless? 
Maybe that’s why he’d been so hardened and resentful, so he’d never feel attached- never allow himself to feel so helpless. 
Coriolanus decided he couldn’t blame him, sitting in this chair, watching as you rested. The doctor said there’d be a lot of that in the coming hours. That you’d gone through trauma and you needed time. He wanted to rip you from the bed, shake you until you awoke and told him you were ok. He needed to hear it, maddenned himself with the need for it. 
Instead, he sat. 
Coryo sent the baby out to the nursery. He knew your parents, Tigris, everyone waiting would be thrilled to see the baby boy. Coryo just couldn’t muster the feigned excitement now. The site of his own son made his stomach turn, fear soaked repulsion settled deep in the pitt of his own core. 
Somewhere in the night, you awoke. A rustling and a groan that had Coriolanus snapping out of his dazed sleep, head tucked to his shoulder, slumped in the chair beside your bed. 
“Don’t move.” Coryo commanded, eyes a kind of bright, frantic wide that had you stilling. 
Your throat burned, head dizzy with the medicine they’d pumped into your system. Coriolanus’ hands shook as he brought you the water, hand cupping your jaw gently to feed it to you. You blinked, bleary with confusion. “You’re alright, my love.” Coriolanus' heart swelled, suffocatingly in his own chest. You were alright. 
“Coryo,” You croaked, throat tight, rasping from before, you were sure. You remembered the birth, most of it anyways, the blurry memory of your baby in Coryo’s arms before your memory failed. “The-The baby… Is he alright? W-Where’s my baby?” 
“He’s with your parents, my love.” Coriolanus’ hand smoothes down your matted hair, sticky with dried sweat. “Nevermind him. How are you? Is anything wrong? Do you need anything? I-I’ll call for the nurse.” 
You shook your head, looking around the room. The sheets were clean, your gown clean, but you felt an achy soreness splitting you in half. “What happened?” 
Coriolanus felt the lump in his throat grow, strangling his words in his throat. “Y-You had some complications, darling.” He swallowed the burn of his own tears down in his throat. “You were bleeding but they stopped it.” 
You blinked, unmoving, soaking in the details of your injury. Coriolanus watched you with a studying glare, eyes scanning for any tiny, minor infliction that something was wrong. “Is-Is the baby ok?” You whispered, eyes shining with fear when you met his gaze. 
“The baby’s fine.” Coryo snapped, harsher than he meant to. It alarmed you, your eyes snapping to his carefully. He took a deep breath, holding your hand carefully into his own, thumb running over your knuckles. 
“He’s fine.” Coryo said, softer this time. “I need to know how you are. What do you need from me, my love? What can I do to make it better?” 
You squeezed his hand lightly, your strength weaker than normal. It made Coriolanus’ spine tingle with shooting chills of concern. “I want to see my baby.” You whispered, head leaning against Coryo’s shoulder. 
“No,” Coriolanus shook his head furiously. “No, you-you need to rest, and-and not be bothered by the baby-” 
“-Coryo,” Your eyes rounded, so pitifully pleading Coriolanus would have walked through fire for you if you asked him to. “Please? I just want to see our baby.” 
And how could he say no? He couldn’t, so instead, Coriolanus called the nurse in. Your parents, proud grandparents, holding the baby, tutting over you. Everyone flitting about the birthing room, Tigris even gleaming with joy at the birth of her nephew. All except Coriolanus, who watched in the corner of the room, a stoic look on his face. 
You looked positively radiant, glowing with joy as you held your son. As if that baby hadn’t nearly killed you, Coriolanus wanted to scream the reminder to you, but he didn’t. He wouldn’t dare upset you, risk upsetting you in front of your family. 
“Coriolanus,” Tigris’ soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts, brought him away from his own sinking, heavy feelings of disappointment. “Are you alright?” 
“I’m fine, Tigris.” Coryo’s voice was tight, firm and forced, like the look of awkward contentment he tried to paint across his features. 
“You… You haven’t held your son.” Tigris hesitated, voice dropping softly so the others wouldn’t overhear. 
“I don’t wish to hold him right now.” Coriolanus sneered. 
“He is your son, Coriolanus.” Tigris hissed, her voice dropping to a low hush in the room, terrified you or the others might hear. 
“And he almost killed her.” Coryo’s eyes flashed to Tigris’ in horrified rage. “Nearly fated her as my sister did my mother, and if you think for one second I am to be happy at that, then you are-” 
“-Coryo,” Your voice croaked, still weak and tired. It made his heart lurch, attention on you in a second, already walking towards your bedside. 
“Yes, my love? What do you need?” Coriolanus muttered. Normally, he’d be embarrassed, showing such affection especially in front of your parents, but he hoped they’d pardon his vulnerability in the moment, given the circumstances. 
“Look at him,” Your eyes shone with love, pure adoration, as if you weren’t cradling the very thing that almost killed you. It made Coryo sick. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” 
Coriolanus looked down at the small newborn, wrapped in swaddles, eyes closed and lips twitching with the faintest whimper of a cry. He looked so much like you, so much like himself- the perfect blend of the two of you taking your lips but Coriolanus’ nose. 
His heart swelled with pride before he could help it, lips curling in a half smile. He’d grown weak, Coriolanus decided, softened by you and your love. He should be disgusted by the baby, despise him and reject him like an animal in the wild would. But he couldn’t bring himself to it. 
“A fine young boy.” Your father boasted, nodding proudly. “The two of you should be very proud.” 
“Yes,” Coryo swallowed around the lump in his throat. You leaned into his touch, shifting the baby so he could better see him. 
“Any idea on the name?” Your mother hummed, moving beside you. 
“I still think Cyrene would be fitting.” You’re beaming, beautiful and proud when you meet Coriolanus’ gaze. “What do you think, Coryo?” 
“Yes,” Coryo nodded. “I think that would be a fine name.” 
“Cyrene Snow,” You cooed, pressing your nose to the baby’s, pressing a gentle kiss there. Your eyes brimmed with tears when you met Coriolanus’ gaze. “Do you want to hold him, darling?” 
“Are you getting tired?” Coryo watched you carefully. “Do you feel alright?” 
“Yes,” You nodded. “I don’t want to hog the baby. Want you to have a chance too, darling.” 
“That’s alright.” Coryo shook his head politely, suddenly very aware of your parents and Tigris’ gaze on him. “You hold him, my love.” 
You frowned lightly. You knew something was off with Coryo, the tightness in his tone, lips falling in a flat line. You waited until later, when Cyrene lay in his bassinet, your family all gone for the night, just you and Coryo in the birthing suite. 
“Why will you not hold him?” You asked through the still darkness. Coriolanus' eyes snapped to yours fiercely, startled by your tone. 
“Excuse me?” 
“Our baby.” You groaned when you sat up, Coryo rushing to your side. 
“You need to be careful-” 
“-You won’t hold him, Coriolanus.” You gripped his arm, eyes shining in something new- something Coryo wasn’t certain of, but it made his stomach twist. “Why?” 
Coriolanus swallowed, the lump in his throat suffocating him. “The last time I held him,” Coryo’s voice was soft, rasping in the quiet room, barely above a whisper. “You nearly died.” 
The room was still, far too still for either of you to find comfort. A harsh, shocking truth for the both of you, sickening and cruel. Your near damned fated reality, Coriolanus’ worst fears, the peaceful baby resting in the bassinet besides the two of you. 
Pressed into the side of your hospital bed, Coriolanus held you carefully, a stilled reminder that you were still there, that you hadn’t left him. The icy wall he’d built high for his son melted with every soft coo and whisper you gave him, a reminder that you were still with him and would be. 
When Coryo finally held Cyrene again, when he’d stirred awake and you were asleep, he turned to the window overlooking Panem’s Capitol, eyes shining with tears- of regret, joy, pain? Even Coryo wasn’t sure, but he rocked his son to sleep carefully, promising him that one day, he’d have what Coryo had. That he wouldn’t leave him the way his father had, that he’d keep him safe, teach him how to keep you safe.
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k3n-dyll · 4 months
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Taking Turns [Ellie W. + Abby A.]
||Men, minors, and ageless DNI
CW: Overstim, dom!Ellabs, sub!reader, fingering(r!receiving), cunnilingus(r!receiving) edging,  strap usage(r!receiving), dacryphillia(?), reader has hair, POC friendly cus duh, AFAB reader,strap on referred to as a cock, porn with no plot, no y/n usage
Word Count: 1,032 Masterlist. Divider Creds
A/N: I haven't written in so long so please give me some grace if this is ass
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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷“Watch her fuck you, baby…there you go ” Ellie coos, a gentle hand playing with your hair, her soft lips occasionally pressing little kisses to the top of your head as you rest against her. She’s relaxed, slouched up against the headboard as she holds you to her stomach, free hand gently tugging at your hardened nipple, pinching the sensitive bud between her fingers. 
Your mind is completely blank by now, jaw slack, tears rolling down your cheeks as Abby’s thick fingers pump mercilessly in and out of you. Her face is buried snug between your legs, her sharp blue eyes staring up at you, watching the way your face contorts in pleasure as she laps at your overly sensitive clit. 
The contrast is overwhelming. 
Ellie mumbling sweet praises in your ear that you can barely process as she holds you, her grip firm yet gentle as she practically forces you to watch as the freckled blonde ravages you with her mouth and fingers. You can’t quite remember how many minutes it’s been since this started, but it feels like it's been hours, the two women having switched places three- no four times by now. 
“Look at you, already fuckin’ crying and we haven’t even started with you yet” Ellie remarks, her long fingers untangling from your hair to wipe at your tear-stained cheeks. It’s not like you can help it at this point. Ever since the last switch, Abby has been deliberate in the way she handles your body, getting you right up to the edge of your orgasm over and over again before pulling away, leaving you breathless and desperate, clenching around the phantom of her fingers. Like right now. Abby feels you begin to pulse around her digits, your whimpers and cries of pleasure becoming louder by the second, and just like that her pace slows to a stop.
"A-Abs, please-" You start as Abby pulls away from your cunt completely, a string of her saliva and your juices breaking between her lips and your glistening folds as she sits up.
"Don't you want this baby?" Abby asks, the "this" in question being the ribbed, purple silicone strap resting on her hips. As she speaks, she positions her body between your legs, wrapping her large hand around the toy and gently tapping it against your swollen clit, making you twitch. You feel like you could cum from that alone. You nod your head vigorously in response to Abby's question, and the blonde just fucking laughs.
"Use your words, pretty girl." she says, her voice firm. While Abby and Ellie don't often agree on a lot of things, one thing they can agree on is the fact that your voice sounds like heaven. Especially when you're like this. It feels good to know that, but at the same time, it's difficult not to become irritated when they're constantly expecting you to speak to them clearly through ragged breaths and fucked out whines.
You can't help but let out an impatient, drawn-out groan at Abby's demand but you try your best anyways, begging for her to "just fuck you already" through labored breathing. Normally that wouldn't work, Abby would prefer to hear you ask nicely but she can practically feel your desperation, and she's just as needy so she lets it slide this once. Your breath catches in your throat when Abby's movements transition from gently rubbing the mushroom-like tip of her cock against your drooling pussy to pushing it inside. Ellie's voice overlaps over the high-pitched whine that escapes your throat at the feeling.
"Shh, shh, shh, it's okay. You can take it" Ellie murmurs, her hands still gently groping and tugging at your tits, her green eyes staring intently at the way Abby is sliding into you.
Abby pushes the silicone deep, all the way to its base before letting out a low groan as if she could actually feel your warm walls surrounding it. Her thrusts are gentle at first, but it doesn't last long before the sound of skin on skin begins filling the room, along with your breathless cries. The blonde is ruthless, but she takes her time, pulling her cock almost all the way out of you before slamming it back in at full force. Her strong hands grip onto your thighs so hard that her fingernails dig into your skin, soft grunts and moans forcing their way out of her each time the base of the strap bumps against her throbbing bundle of nerves.
"A-Abby I'm gonna- fuck" Your legs are shaking uncontrollably, the mere thought of her stopping right now almost makes you let out a sob, but she doesn't. Abby is way too focused on how fucking good you look and sound right now to even think about teasing you anymore, not to mention her own inner thighs becoming moist with her wetness with each thrust, close to cumming herself.
"I know, I know baby- Jesus Christ" Abby mutters between gritted teeth, her eyebrows knitted together as her thrusts become more erratic. "Cum for me, c'mon."
If you didn't know any better, you would think the muscular blonde had some kind of remote control to your body because you cum almost immediately after she says it, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you, the feeling almost too much after being denied it so many times. Abby reaches her climax quickly after, her hips involuntarily snapping forward a few more times as her body twitches from the pleasure before she leans over you to catch her breath.
When she comes down from her high, Abby pushes off of you, the silicone sliding out slowly and sending a shiver through your body. Your legs go limp against the bed when she moves, a thin layer of sweat covering your body, eyes threatening to close. Before you get the chance though, you feel a hand tapping against your cheek. It's Ellie. Looking down at you with a shit-eating grin on her face.
"We didn't say you were finished, doll" she says, gently moving you off of her so that she can stand, switching places with Abby. Again.
"I still haven't had my turn, yet"
A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! I barely proofread this so I'm sorry if it reads a little odd. Constructive feedback is appreciated!
2K notes · View notes
lxkeee · 2 months
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TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
-PART EIGHT
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: family trauma/lore
Notes: we love a family that bonds.
PART ONE | PART SEVEN | PART NINE | NAVIGATION
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Xavier was worried, scared even. He's pacing back and forth in his room. Having second thoughts whether he'll go down to hell and look for his beloved mother or just wait for her here.
What he's afraid of is what'll happen if his mother sees his father. His father already caused so much emotional pain to her. Xavier cannot imagine what kind of heartbreaking pain she'll experience once she sees her husband.
Xavier looks outside his window, rays of setting sunlight peaks through the white curtains, giving his room an orange like glow. He runs his hand through his light blond locks in frustration. He can't wait a second longer to look for her.
Xavier wonders if his parents already met down there, the idea makes his blood boil.
The idea of his father suddenly back to their life makes his skin crawl. Xavier knows how much influence his father had on his mother's heart.
He sighs, a long exhale filled with tension and worry. It's already been a few hours now, what could she be possibly doing down there? He thought to himself.
With a small huff, he fixed his uniform. That's it, I'm going down there. He took a deep breath, snapped his fingers together and opened a portal that leads to hell.
He steps inside the portal, summoning his three pairs of wings so he can fly down. Xavier hopes that his mother is alright.
The portal closed and the angel who once stood inside his large magnificently large white room was no more.
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Lucifer returned back to the palace, teleporting back to his bedroom. A sigh of relief escaping his lips as he saw that [Y/n] was still passed out asleep. His eyes softened, sitting at the corner of the bed, in the empty space beside her sleeping form.
He lets out a long exhale, a tired sigh. He gazed down at her sleeping and tired face, his heart ached. Clearly torn between two women. Lilith, his wife of many millennia and [Y/n], his first wife and the angel who stood by his side and supported him despite his neglect.
He regrets it, genuinely. He was young and stupid, he and [Y/n] got married when they were in their 200's. Romance wasn't common back then, nothing to learn from. The only love they were taught was loving heaven and its creator. Romantic love barely existed during those times as every angel was busy with their respective duties.
He loves [Y/n] genuinely and he was wrong for not upholding his vows to her.
He gently swept away some strands of falling hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. A small smile on his face once his eyes landed on his hand, devoid of any rings. He finally let go of his wedding ring, the one he used for Lilith. He didn't wear his wedding ring—the one he used for [Y/n]—as he feels like he doesn't deserve it.
Lucifer remembers that he didn't want to remove his first wedding ring with his first wife but Lilith insisted he should.
Lilith was envious, because after so many years he still wore it and led to some arguments.
He can't just forget about [Y/n], he doesn't have the heart to. Her heartbroken face is forever embedded into his memories, her empty and blank face as she stared at him and Lilith when they were banished.
A look in her face told him that she was tired, tired of waiting for him, tired of his second priority.
He should've been better, he should've treated her better. He should've been her perfect husband just like how she was his perfect wife.
His love for Lilith is slowly disappearing, ever since they've begun arguing. Their beliefs and ideals no longer match with one another.
He accidentally mentioned [Y/n]'s name during their heated arguments, which causes Lilith to be mad at him and eventually left, leaving divorce papers for him to sign on his desk.
He tried so hard to bury his love for [Y/n], he tried so hard to forget her as he knew he wouldn't see her again and most likely didn't want to see him either.
A single tear runs down his rosy red cheek, breath hitching. Emotions are finally spilling forth, his love and heart ache that he bottled up for so many eons finally erupting.
“So this is how it feels,” he sang softly, careful not to wake her up. His voice broke as he sang ever so softly, “To fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”
He made a mistake in his decisions, he admits that. He should've done things better. Choosing Lilith over her was a mistake, “Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with.”
He sighs softly, choking on his words as he sings his unspoken feelings. His hand trembled with emotions, “Sorry for leaving like that, you don't deserve to get caught in my mess.”
He was a troublemaker, he didn't want her to get caught in his mess but whatever silly idea he had, she was always ready to listen and comfort him when the elders rejected it. He gently held her hand, feeling how cold her skin was, he cups it with his hand and blew some warm air to it to warm her hand. He used to do this when they were back in heaven.
He gently laid down her hand back to the bed and back to her side, a small smile on his face before he let out a sad sigh, “Loving me is just so difficult, I don't know how I should tell you that.” he admits softly, he knows how tiring he can be, he knows... He had to deal with himself after all. He sighs, he's been doing so much of it lately.
“I've fallen for somebody else, happened so quickly, I lost myself.” he admitted, he realized years ago that he was only infatuated with Lilith, when the honeymoon phase was over, arguments started.
“A shadow of you drifts along by my window or did I imagine that?” he could remember when he would spend all by himself at the kitchen, drinking after a fight with Lilith and during his drunken delusion, he would often see figures of [Y/n] comforting him.
A shaky breath leaves past his lips, eyes tired and dull. He looks at the sleeping once more, she looked so peaceful.
He wonders if he should transfer her to the hotel, he needs to check up on Charlie and the others too. With a heavy sigh, he gently lifted her up into his arms once more—effortlessly carrying her. A sense of deja vu hits him, a memory of the time he carried her like this after they got married, [Y/n] happily laughing in his arms while he grins at her as he held her. Times were simple back then.
A single tear drop, running down his blemish free pale skin, the droplet running past his rosy red spots of his cheeks.
He took a deep breath, summoning a portal that leads to an empty vacant room of the hotel, he steps in with her still asleep on his arms. The portal closes behind them as the room shifts into one Hazbin Hotel's newest guest rooms.
He gently walked towards the bed, gently laying her down comfortably, making sure to tuck her in.
Finally, he slowly gave distance between them. Standing just a few feet away from the bed, a sad look on his face, “This is how it feels, to fall in love with you, to always think of you, to always dream of you,”
Seeing her after all these years, ignited the fading flame of his love for her. Adding gasoline to a flame.
“Yes, it hurts so much to fall in love with you.” he silently admitted, she doesn't hurt him, he knows it was his fault. He made everything complicated, his decision caused harm to her and their son, to these sinners. He made a reckless decision of abandoning her, giving both of them pain in the process.
He doesn't deserve her. Not after the things he's put her through.
He thought sadly, before turning his back away from her, walking out of the room. He took one last look at her sleeping form before eventually closing the door as he left the room.
The heels of his boots tapped against the dark red tiles of the hallway of the hotel as he walked towards his own room. He needs some time to process everything.
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Charlie wasn't expecting a visitor this soon after the extermination, she certainly didn't expect her visitor to be her half half brother, a frown on his face and a glare on his eyes. She would've mistaken him for her father if he didn't have [e/c] eyes and also if the boy wasn't ridiculously so tall.
Charlie smiled nervously, how could she not? Xavier was looking down on her literally with the same coldness in his eyes.
“Xavier... Hi! I didn't expect you to be here...” Charlie says nervously, waving at him.
Xavier just raised an eyebrow, clearly not interested in small talk, “Where is she?” he asked, voice cold and means business.
Charlie tilted her head, “Who...?” she asked, wondering who the older boy was referring to.
Xavier scoffed, [e/c] eyes narrowing down on the blonde girl as he crosses his arms together on his chest, “My mother,” he answered, a deadpan look on his face, “—She came down here a few hours ago, she should've been back by now.” he added, a worried tone on his voice. Xavier was beyond worried, his poor mother alone in this disgusting place—the realm his blood father ruled. He can't imagine the possibilities that could happen to her.
Charlie's eyes widened in realization, oh, the angel. Why didn't she realize it sooner? Of course he's referring to the passed out angelic woman. Charlie is slightly nervous about telling the older boy, but she has to, “She's resting, she suddenly passed out awhile ago....?” She says, nervously, avoiding Xavier's eyes.
Xavier's eyes widened, ears ringing as everything suddenly went numb. For a brief moment, it felt like he was alone once more, the scared little boy who begged for his mother's attention.
He could remember how close she was to him but for some reason, he couldn't reach her. His mother can barely look at him in the eyes without crying. He felt useless, pathetic for being born this way and caused his beloved mother so much pain. He failed, he failed, he failed, he failed, HE FAILED HER. He couldn't save her again.
Mom...? Where are you? Please... Don't leave me again...
Charlie's eyes widened when she sees a single tear slid down Xavier's cheek despite the boy's unchanging glare, Charlie though could notice how sad his eyes were.
“Xavier...?” She calls out to him, no response.
“Azrael... He looks so much like him... I... I can't... It hurts to look at him.” his mother sobbed on the unknown taller and black haired man's shoulders. Xavier grips his duck plushie, he was somehow fond of the animal. The little boy peaked through the small gap of the door to his mother's room, hoping for some comfort after a nightmare—he didn't expect to see his beloved mom crying about him and that made him freeze on the spot. He was a smart child after all, just like his father.
“[Y/n]... He's just a kid... He needs you...” Xavier heard the man say, he still has trouble saying his name. Was it Azwawel? Or Azrawel? He forgot. Xavier, despite being so young, barely six years old—suddenly felt so numb. He slowly walked away from his mother's room, dragging the duck plushie. It felt heavier than usual, his little arms too weak to hold it.
He felt his chest tighten, he couldn't breathe. Chest heaving up and down as he tries to catch his breath.
Charlie got even more worried as she saw him begin to hyperventilate, “Xavier! Hey, hey... Look at me.” She says softly, holding on to the arms of the shaking boy, the physical contact snapping him out of his trance as he quickly pulled his arms away from the girl.
“Do not touch me.” he hissed, glaring at Charlie, “Tell me where my mother is or I'll destroy this hotel just to find her.” he threatened, making Charlie's eyes widen in fear. She knows she can't fight him, let alone her friends aren't as powerful to fight an angelic being—a Seraphim.
“She's upstairs, resting... Just don't hurt anyone.” She stammers, giving way for the older boy to come inside the hotel. She knew as her father texted her about it.
Vaggie's eyes widened when she saw the angel walks in, she could feel the man's power as he entered the room. Suddenly, the room got colder. Vaggie summoned her spear but she saw Charlie crossing her arms into an 'X' while shaking her head. Vaggie hesitantly lowered her weapon as they all looked at each other, she had to grip Angel Dust's arm to stop the arachnid from doing stupid—thankfully, Angel Dust seemed to get the memo and closed his mouth. Husk had to hold Niffty to stop her from causing chaos again.
Charlie led him up the stairs to the second floor, the others watching as they disappeared from sight.
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Xavier's eyes widened as the door to where his mother was resting was opened, the first thing he saw was his mother's passed out form, lying down on the bed.
Xavier immediately kneeled down to his mother's side, holding her hand affectionately. What happened to her?
He looked angrily at Charlie, dull [e/c] eyes staring at bright red ones, “What did you do to her?” he asked, voice lowering and clearly pissed off. Charlie shakes her head, clearly afraid of him, “We didn't do anything! She suddenly just passed out on her own.” she explained and he just sighs, shaking away his thoughts.
‘They wouldn't just recklessly harm an angel, they couldn't land a hit on her if they tried. She must've overworked again.’ he thought to himself, sighing.
“Just leave us alone please? Now.” he ordered, Charlie flinched in fear but nodded and quickly left the room, making sure to close the door on her way out.
Xavier sighs, his shoulders dropping. It suddenly felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. His mother is his world, after all.
“It's going to be okay, mother. I am here for you, always.” he spoke softly, kissing his mother's hand before lowering it back down to the bed, hovering his hand over her sleeping form and began to heal her.
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Lucifer stood outside the door to where [Y/n] was resting, his hand hovering above the doorknob—shaking. Charlie just told him about the situation. His son is here, the son he didn't know who existed was here.
He took a deep breath, ‘You can do this, Lucifer... This is your chance to ask for forgiveness.’ he thought to himself before knocking first and then slowly twisted the doorknob, pushing it open.
It felt like he was looking at the mirror, it felt like he was looking at a reflection of himself—the reflection glaring at him, sharp [e/c] eyes glaring at him with so much hatred.
“You!” the boy growled, standing up from where he was kneeling.
Lucifer was taken aback from the boy's anger. It felt like he was looking at a past version of him, the past him who despised heaven who treated him so wrongfully.
“What are you doing here? Why do you have so much audacity to come here like you didn't do anything wrong?” the boy asked, his voice filled with so much distaste for his father.
Lucifer's eyes widened, words stuck in his throat. Say something!
With a heavy inhale and exhale, Lucifer looked at the glaring boy, trying to calm him down, “I know what I did and I... Want to apologize... For all the things I've done.” he said softly, stammering slightly. He's trying so hard not to show that he's beyond nervous.
Xavier's glare sharpened, who does this man think he is?! Did he think a mere apology can undo all the damage he has done to him and his mother.
“Who do you think you are?” he asked Lucifer mockingly, a cold look on his face. Lucifer just stood frozen on the spot.
“Just because you're the most beautiful being of all of creation doesn't mean you can have anything you want,” Xavier sneered, a mocking smile on his face, “Your title and power doesn't mean anything to me, how does it feel to be the most beautiful being in all of creation yet you are thoroughly despised by your own flesh and blood?” Xavier asked and suddenly Lucifer couldn't speak, his chest tightening at the harsh words his supposed son had said to him. His breath caught up on his throat.
“This face...?” Xavier says, his hand moving towards his own face, he glared at his birth father, “I despised it so much, it's horrendous.” he says flatly.
“I do not know what my mother sees in you,” he says, looking up and down on his father's frozen form—not moving a muscle, “All I see is an angel who failed to become what he needed to become. A failure, nothing more and nothing less.” he says sharply, [e/c] eyes dull and hollow as he gazes at dull red ones.
Lucifer felt the familiar sting in his eyes, he desperately willed himself not to cry. What a failure of a father he is. First Charlie, now it's.... He doesn't even know the boy's name, he remembered Charlie telling him, but he somehow forgot. Pathetic.
Xavier's lips were formed in a thin line, turning his back away from his supposed blood father. He still doesn't understand why his beloved mother loves his father so much. He's too afraid to ask. Too afraid of making her remember such painful memories. He'll wait for her to open up. They have so much time to heal, he'll wait. He could remember young him who wanted to meet his father so much, the young naive Xavier who admired his father—the father who created the very species he loved so much, ducks. Poor naive Xavier who finally learned the pain his father gave to his mother to point his mother can't look at him, her beloved son in the eyes.
With a shaky breath, finally letting go of the breath he took in. Xavier sighs, “I will be taking my mother back home, thank you for your hospitality.” Xavier murmured, gently lifting his mother into his arms with no effort.
Lucifer's eyes widened from what the boy has said, they're going to leave. He needs to do something, anything to earn their forgiveness.
“Wait..! Please let her recover mor—”
“Haven't you done enough damage already?” Xavier asked, his voice devoid of any emotions as he tilted his head slightly to look at his father, a single stray tear running down his pale cheeks, the single droplet running past the rosy red spot on his cheek.
Lucifer was taken aback once more, the King of Hell can see so much sadness, anger, and longing on the boy's eyes. Lucifer wanted to reach out to the boy, his fatherly instincts kicking in. His hand extending where the boy stood, pausing as he hesitated.
Even after all these years, sweet little Xavier is still somewhere inside him. The sweet naive Xavier who wanted a complete family, who wanted a father.
“I said what I said, she'll be going home and get proper treatment. I doubt hell is a appropriate place to treat an angel like her.” Xavier says flatly, clearly not open for any discussion left. His decision is final. Lucifer can only respect that, he owes it to them. Lucifer finally lowers his hand, regrettably so.
Xavier turned away from Lucifer once more, summoning a portal back to their home in heaven.
A bright golden light formed in thin air as a portal opened, Xavier stepped in with his mother in his arms. He dared not look back. He doesn't have any reason to.
The portal closes in. Lucifer was left alone standing in the guestroom, his first family gone in a blink of an eye.
He cried in anguish inside that room.
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He can hear his bones rattle against his skin as he dragged his body to his mother's bedroom, Xavier is incredibly exhausted. Physically, no. Emotionally and mentally? Yes, absolutely.
He is still carrying his mother in his arms, prioritizing her comfort over his.
Kicking the door open, he walked at the center of the room where his mother's bed was, gently laying her down. Making sure to tuck her in.
[Y/n] snuggled, against her blanket. Xavier smiled, a gentle yet strained smile on his face.
“I'll protect you mom, sleep well and dream well.” he says softly, planting a small kiss on his mother's forehead before eventually leaving the room.
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TAGLIST I:
@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @zc000ter @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyreality @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby
1K notes · View notes
becomingmina · 2 months
Note
thanks for the clarification ♡
so here is the thought I had
hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings
they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)
one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸
Crush - smut w/Hyunjin. 18+ only mdni.
{Mina’s notes: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓}
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You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.
He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.
You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?
You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.
When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.
“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.
“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.
“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.
When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.
“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.
When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”
“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.
“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.
“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.
“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.
“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.
Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.
“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.
“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?
“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.
“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.
“He does—”
You scoffed a little bit too fast.
“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.
Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.
“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.
Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”
“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.
“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.
“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.
“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.
“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.
“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.
Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.
“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”
You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!
“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.
You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.
You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.
“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.
“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”
“Who is we?” You asked confused.
Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.
“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.
“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”
“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”
“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.
“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?
“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.
“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.
“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”
“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.
“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up.  “Han-ji, we’re late!”
It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.
“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.
“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.
“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.
“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.
Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.
“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.
Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.
“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.
“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.
“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.  
“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.
“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.  
“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.   
“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.
“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.
“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.
“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.
“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.
“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.
“There’s no tension between me and—”
“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.
“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"
“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.
“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.
“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.
“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.
“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.
Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.
Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.  
You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.
You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.  
“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.
“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.
“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.
“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.
“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.
“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.
“He’s not my boy.”
“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.
Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.
He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.
“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.
“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.
“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.
“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.
“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.
Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.
He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.
Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.
“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.
“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.
“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.
You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.
“Okay.” You answered softly.
“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?
He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.
Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.
“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.
“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.
You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.
“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.
“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.
“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.
“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.
“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.
“Why does it matter to you anyways—”
“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.
You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?
“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.
His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.
“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?
He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.
Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.
“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.
“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.
“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.
“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.
“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.
“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.
“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.
“You got your answer?”
“Mhmm..” you admit.
“Good.”
“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.
He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”
“Yes.”
“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.
Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.
Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.
As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.
“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.
“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.
You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.
“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.
Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.
“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.
Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.
“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.
He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?
“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.
“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.
You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.
“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.
“You love it,” you teased him.
“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?
“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.
“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.
You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.
“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.
“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.
Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.
“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.
You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.
“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.
“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.
“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.
“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.
“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.
Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.
“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.
You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.
Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.
Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.
“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.
You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.
You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.
“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.
“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.
“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.
“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.
“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.
“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.
“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.
“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.
“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.
The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.
“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.
“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.
“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.
Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”
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tteokdoroki · 7 months
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☆༉ — KATSUKI BAKUGOU. what’s one more?
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about. now that your kids are all grown up, you’ve gotten to thinking about having another baby with bakugou again.
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, suggestive and smutty, fluffy, some dub-con, baby-trapping mention, breeding, unprotected sex mention, reader is a mother, bakugou is getting old hehe, they have three daughters lol, fem!reader, pro hero!bakugou.
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i imagine that when your kids get a little older and start becoming more independent — your eldest in their final year of U.A, the middle starting U.A and the youngest still kicking in middle school….you catch a whiff of baby fever again.
it’s not even that everyone around you is having kids, most of theirs are well into their teenage years and giving your old friends trouble. it’s more that you miss the tiny pitter patter of feet throughout your house, the gummy giggles and scent of baby safe soap. oddly enough, you find yourself yearning for the late night feeds and the laughter shared over the inherent explosive bakugou diaper bombs.
speaking of your husband, you kind of hate how good he is with kids. he’s always treated your daughters like princesses, spoiling them rotten and raising their standards so that no possible crush could ever compare to the way their daddy treats them. but he’s so tender with the littler ones he visits as part of hero work, the tiny fans that ask him to sign his trading cards or their backpacks.
it’s adorable and still warms your heart to this day. to the point where you’re jumping bakugou’s bones every chance you get without actually telling him you want another one of his big headed babies. of course, he’s only a man and he’s not going to question why is wife of nearly two decades keeps presenting to him like a bitch in heat after lights out and the kids are asleep.
perhaps that’s why bakugou doesn’t question (on the one night where you have a child-free house) the way you toss away the condom, the way you take it raw and clench down on his cock like your life depends on it. why you squeal all high-pitched for him to fill you up with tears in your pretty eyes — how could he say no to you?
his pretty little wife, his lover, hot piece of ass to love and fuck to his hearts content.
what good, loving man isn’t going to cum in his wife when she begs and cries for it?
it’s not until your trained and doughy thighs lock around his slender waist to pull him into your frothing sex that bakugou realises. you’re doing this on purpose.
and by the time he does realise, he’s filling you up to the brim, sloppy white leaking out of you while you cum around him just like you always do — taking him so well, smiling up at him like you’re on top of the world.
“you fuckin’ leg locked me!” katsuki pants through amused laughter, collapsing on top of you with a sweaty and heaving chest.
“nuh-uh!” comes your quick reply, angling your hips up so that he slips deeper into you.
katsuki gets up soon after and disappears to the bathroom, not before prying your legs off of him — knowing full well he had the strength to do so earlier. if he really wanted to. “my own wife… you tried to fuckin’ baby trap me!”
“no i didn’t!” you pout defensively, brows furrowed and nose upturned. your expression only softens when your husband gives you a pointed look and moves to wipe the mess drying against your inner thighs. “okay…so what if i did?”
you loop your arms around his neck with a purr, toying with the silvery-blonde baby hairs on the back of katsuki’s neck and looking up at him with vixen eyes like you’re about to devour your prey. “we can not have another baby,” he tells you simply, kissing the crown of your head when you hiss at the sensitivity. “was i too rough?”
there’s a rasp to his voice, the kind that’s only prominent after hours of singing your praises in the bedroom. it makes you smile, close your eyes in content, and shake your head ‘no’. “why not?”
“havin’ a baby isn’t like gettin’ a puppy ‘nd you know that, sweetness,” bakugou hums quietly, soothing over the bruises he’d left on the soft handles on your waist. he thumbs at the stretch marks and tigers stripes, the very markings that show you were a mother to three of his beauties children. “we gotta focus on makin’ sure kasumi gets into a good agency, if not mine, and don’t get me started on the other two—“
“—but we could do it. right? i mean we’ve done it three times before. raised a baby, what’s one more?” you do your best to sound convincing while you sit up and cling to your man, pleading with those puppy dog eyes that got you knocked up the first time almost eighteen years ago. “don’t you want a little boy?”
“three girls are more than enough.” bakugou pushes your face away playfully, forcing you back into the sheets so he can lie on top of you. “we’re not as young—“ he starts, but back tracks after being on the receiving end of your heated glare. “i’m not as young as i was when we had our first. ‘n shit, my back hurts and my eyes are gettin’ bad, and our kids… they’re exhaustin’, babe.”
the both of you share a laugh. upon brushing a hand through his hair, katsuki trills happily at your affection. “you’re still a good dad. you’d be an even better to our next. even if you’re a little achey in the knees, old man.” though you’re teasing, you really do mean every word you say. raising your kids has been trial and error from the start, but bakugou’s been strong the entire way through — wanting nothing but the best for his family and always putting them first. “plus, the kids are with the kirishimas for an entire weekend, and you’re telling me you haven’t thought about fucking me raw again?”
“jesus woman, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, aren’t you?” katsuki twitches against your leg once again, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a hungry, syrupy kiss. “you’re right,” he groans against them, loving the feeling of your tongue on his. “fuck, you’re right. spread your legs, sweetness. wanna fill this pretty pussy with my cum.”
“yes daddy…” you mewl in reply while a winning grin tacks itself to your lips l face between uncoordinated kisses and surprised moans once your husband eases his throbbing cock back inside of your tight heat. mumbling something about how it feels like home.
needless to say, neither of you are surprised when the next pregnancy test you take is positive. now you just have to explain the baby supplies in your Amazon basket to your three teenage girls.
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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bbbbbbbbatman · 8 months
Text
Bruce finally decided it’s time to reveal his identity to Superman and Wonder Woman, so he takes off his mask…and is met with two blank faces. Zero recognition.
Like, Bruce Wayne is in that celebrity category of being famous for being rich and famous and also as a local celebrity, so I like to imagine that outside of Gotham, if you’re not that into celebrity culture, you probably wouldn’t recognize him walking down the street. And yeah, Clark’s a journalist, but the celebrity stuff and charity fluff pieces aren’t really his area and Diana’s never really understood the fascination with celebrities. So yeah, they don’t recognize their coworker sans makeup and expensive clothes, with helmet hair, looking like he hasn’t slept in 48 hours.
So now Bruce has to sit there, trying to figure out the least dickish way to say “don’t you know who I am?” bc he’s just not used to the lack of reaction. So he finally stumbles out with, “do you not recognize me?”
And Clark is feeling the awkwardness now but trying to be polite, “I’m so sorry, have we met as civilians before?”
“N-no, that’s—that’s not what I meant.”
Diana, trying to be helpful, “oh, are you some kind of celebrity?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.”
“Oh,” Diana is excited now, “are you one of those influencers I’ve heard of?”
Bruce thinks a little part of him just died inside. “No, no. I’m…no.”
He’s trying so hard to think of the best way to explain that’s he’s famous for being rich, stupid, and having his parents killed traumatically in front of him but without sounding like that guy, like he’s trying to brag to his coworkers bc he’s not, he’s just used to bigger reactions, okay?
But now Diana and Clark are staring at him all politely and earnestly, wanting to learn about their teammate, meanwhile Bruce is trying to shrink into himself like a turtle bc he’s feeling super embarrassed and he would have played this whole thing differently if he’d known this is how it was going to go
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goldsbitch · 12 days
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can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.
Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻
omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!
This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.
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Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.
You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.
It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.
Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.
"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.
"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.
"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.
"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.
"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."
You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.
The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.
"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.
Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.
//
It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.
In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.
"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.
"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.
"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.
"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.
You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.
"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.
It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.
"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.
Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.
Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."
You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.
Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.
You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.
You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.
"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.
"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."
Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.
"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.
"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.
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s-4pphics · 6 months
Text
where we meet. (e.w.)
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when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys
*silence*
…..
thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle
wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking
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“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 
You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 
The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 
“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”
“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 
She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 
“Now, Miss Hattie— “
“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 
Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 
She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 
You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 
As a dishwasher. 
Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 
Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 
… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.
She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 
“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 
She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 
Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 
Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.
You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 
You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 
You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 
That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 
To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 
Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 
No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 
You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 
“You comin’?”
Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 
“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 
She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “
“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 
“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 
You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 
You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 
You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!
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The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 
You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 
You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 
The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 
Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 
“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 
She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 
Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 
You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 
The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 
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THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—
Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—
You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 
Where were you before this? 
You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 
You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 
The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 
The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 
The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 
All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 
Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 
Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 
You woke up screaming. 
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“Girl…”
“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 
Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 
You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 
You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 
Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 
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“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 
Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 
She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 
Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 
You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 
“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 
Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 
“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 
“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “
“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 
“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.
A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 
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You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 
You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 
Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 
You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 
You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 
Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 
The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 
You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 
Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 
You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 
Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 
Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 
Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 
The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 
Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—
The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 
One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 
But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 
Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 
You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 
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You didn’t sleep at all that night. 
You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 
To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 
Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 
Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 
Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 
Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 
You’re not fucking crazy. 
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Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 
Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 
… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 
You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 
Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 
You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 
You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 
This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 
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Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 
Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 
You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 
You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 
Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 
She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.
You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 
“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 
She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 
“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 
Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 
A heavy exhale left her. 
“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 
Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 
“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 
Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 
“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 
“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 
More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 
“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 
You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 
That was odd. 
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The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 
You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 
You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.
The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 
Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 
But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  
This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 
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“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 
“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 
“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 
Family. You almost broke down. 
When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “
“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 
You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 
Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 
Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 
“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 
The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 
“Can you come pick me up?” 
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“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “
“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 
“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 
“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 
“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 
“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “
“What happened when we were at the club?” 
Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 
“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 
“I… I told you what happened— “
“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 
“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “
Celeste shook her head, “No.” 
Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 
“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 
The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  
“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 
Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 
Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 
The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 
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“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 
You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 
Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”
He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 
He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 
He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 
Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 
“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin
His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “
“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“
His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 
“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.
The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 
“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“
Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 
The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 
Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 
The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 
You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 
Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 
Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 
Everything around you went dark. 
Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 
Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 
Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 
She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 
“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 
Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 
Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?
“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “
Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 
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After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 
You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 
Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 
Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 
You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 
The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 
You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 
You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 
You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 
HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—
You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.
She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.
You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 
Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 
Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 
You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 
You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 
I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 
Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 
Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 
Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 
You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 
Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 
The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 
She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 
Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.
You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 
You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?
You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 
Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 
She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 
You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.
She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 
You love me, Ellie… right? 
Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 
Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 
Ellie… d-do you love me? 
O-Of course I do—
The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?
You were never a rebellious kid. 
Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 
The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 
You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 
You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 
Started drinking. 
Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 
The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 
You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)
You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 
Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 
Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 
Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 
I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 
Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 
You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 
You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 
Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 
See? I can stop whenever I want. 
Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 
The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 
O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 
But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 
When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 
She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 
Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 
Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 
You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 
When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 
Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 
You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 
When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 
Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 
You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 
All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  
Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 
Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 
The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 
Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 
Hm? 
D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 
But you didn’t believe her. 
Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 
The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 
… Are you fucking drunk right now? 
There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 
She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 
Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 
I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 
Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 
The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 
You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 
You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 
Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 
You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 
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PRESENT
You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 
Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 
“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “
The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 
“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 
“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “
“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 
“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “
“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 
“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 
“… W-What?”
The look on her face was enough for you. 
She knows. She knew. 
“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 
Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 
I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 
“Whatever happens t’you…”
“No, nonono!—“
“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 
You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 
“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 
You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 
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The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 
The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 
Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 
The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 
Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 
“Ma’am?” 
You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 
No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 
Some silence passed before you spoke. 
“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 
Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 
You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 
“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 
“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “
“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 
I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—
You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?
The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 
You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 
The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 
It can’t be. 
“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 
No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 
“Look at me! I love you!” 
Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 
“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 
A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  
“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “
“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 
You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 
Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 
A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 
“I love you more.” 
You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 
It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 
But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 
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You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 
Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 
Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 
You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 
Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 
You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 
Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 
The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 
Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 
“E-Ellie?” 
Silence. 
Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 
“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 
That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 
“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 
You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 
“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“
Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 
A dark chuckle left you. 
“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 
You’re awake. And you’re angry. 
You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 
“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “
Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 
A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 
You’re going fucking crazy. 
“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 
“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 
You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 
She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 
“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 
Silence. 
Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 
“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “
“Fuck you.” 
You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?
“… What?” 
“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 
“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 
Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—
The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.
Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 
Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 
Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 
Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 
You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 
The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 
You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—
“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“
A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 
Ellie… Ellie, please… 
Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 
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Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 
You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 
You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 
“Miss me?” 
You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 
“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 
What the fuck, what the fuck—
The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 
Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 
Is… Did she cut you with that? 
Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 
“E-Ellie?” 
She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 
“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 
Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 
What the fuck is going on… 
She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 
Her words were hardly registering. 
“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.
“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 
“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 
She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 
Other side? “… Am I dead?” 
“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 
“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 
“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 
“… I— “
You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—
“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.
“… Why’m I here then?” 
She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 
Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 
“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 
She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 
“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 
Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.
“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 
She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 
The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 
“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 
You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 
“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 
She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 
“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 
You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  
“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 
No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—
“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 
Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—
“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 
“Oh, she’s starving— “
Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 
You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 
“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 
A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 
Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 
… Is… Is she really…?
You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 
“E-Ellie, El— “
Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 
She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 
“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 
You missed her so fucking much. 
Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 
“You wanna watch?” 
No, no no please—
Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 
“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 
She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 
“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.
“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 
“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 
Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 
Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?
Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 
The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 
You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 
Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 
S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—
Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—
Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 
“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “
“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “
Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—
You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 
Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.
The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 
“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “
You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 
Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 
She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 
She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 
“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 
The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 
“So much fun.” 
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You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 
But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 
When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 
Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 
Almost. 
You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 
“You’re a bad kisser.” 
Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”
“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 
“Yes, dear?”
Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 
“Am… Am I…?”
“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 
Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 
“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 
“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 
Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 
She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 
Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 
Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “
“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 
You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—
A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 
The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 
Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.
Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 
Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 
Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?
Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 
Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?
Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 
A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 
Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 
Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 
“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“
Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 
You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 
Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 
Ellie… 
“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 
Ellie… please…
“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 
I’m so sorry… 
“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 
I miss you so much… 
Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 
The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 
She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 
“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 
You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 
I love you… I love you… I love you… 
“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “
Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 
The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 
Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 
I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 
Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 
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JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You’re such a dork!
Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!
The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 
You love me. 
She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—
Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 
You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 
She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 
You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 
You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 
But you spoke first. 
You love me, right? 
More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 
But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 
Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 
Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 
More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 
You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 
Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 
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Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 
You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 
You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”
She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 
“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 
“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 
A sad smile grew on your face. 
“Almost did…” 
Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 
“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 
Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 
Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 
“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 
Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 
The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 
“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 
The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.
“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 
“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 
You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 
Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—
Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 
Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 
I wish I hated you. 
You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 
Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 
She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 
Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.
“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “
You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 
A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 
“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 
“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 
“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 
Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 
A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 
“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 
Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 
She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 
Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 
Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 
Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 
She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 
“Your stamina’s fucked.” 
Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 
The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 
But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 
Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 
Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 
Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 
“What.” 
Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”
“You want something. Say it.” 
You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 
You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 
Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 
A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 
Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 
Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 
You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 
Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 
You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 
It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 
Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 
Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 
You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 
Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 
Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 
Ellie — m’cu—cumming!
You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 
It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 
The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 
As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 
Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 
You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 
She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 
It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 
Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 
You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 
You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 
Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 
Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 
She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 
You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 
Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 
You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 
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When you wake, there’s warmth. 
You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 
You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 
Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 
Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 
‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’
Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 
To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 
Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 
May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 
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idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL
taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :
@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky
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coldfanbou · 3 months
Text
More Than A Bath
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I mixed things up a little with a soapland theme. I hope y'all enjoy
Length 2.7K
Nako x Mreader X Kazuha
You look up at the sign and take a deep breath. There were murmurs that she worked here, but you didn’t think it was true. You click your phone and check the time: 10 pm. The shop is supposed to be open now. You walk up to the door and step inside. The front room was decorated in such a way that it looked like a casino. To your left was a man behind the counter wiping it down. “Welcome! I haven’t seen your face before. Is it your first time here?” 
You nod your head, “It is.”
“Welcome to the Royal Flush. We offer great relaxation for men after a long day's work. We have a few options here, starting at thirty minutes and going up to two hours. That said, you can extend it up to another two hours.” The man motions to a blank board behind him before turning around. “My apologies; I forgot to turn this thing on. Just a moment.” He goes under his desk, flicking a button, causing the screen to light up with pictures of women on playing cards. You couldn’t see anyone who looked like her, though. He motions to the screen. “As you can see, we have many ladies available to help you. You can choose any one of them for your time here. Or if you’re feeling lucky, you can play the roulette.”
“What’s the roulette?” 
“I’m glad you asked, sir. The roulette is a wheel that gives you the chance to get two women for the price of one and even enables some that are usually reserved for special customers. The price to play is a little higher than choosing from the board, but if you hit the jackpot, you get two women for four hours. At worst, you’re paying a little more for our basic thirty-minute service, but at best, you’ll have the best night of your life. All you have to do is predict the space the ball will land in. What would you like, sir?”
You consider the chance the rumors were true, and she was just for special customers. “I choose the roulette.” After taking your money, the man smiles and asks you for a number. You choose the number she had ended up with on the show, six. The screen behind the man changes to a roulette wheel, and he begins the game. The ball on-screen moves around the roulette wheel, and while you don’t have high hopes for getting it right, you hope you’ll at least get something good.
As the ball begins to slow down,  you see it coming up on your number. Time slows down as the ball approaches the number six spot and swings past it one more time before coming around again. The ball loses momentum as it hits one of the ball deflectors, and miraculously, it plops into the six slot. The man smiles at you, “How rare.” He says, a slight amusement in his voice. “Congratulations, sir, you’ve hit the jackpot. You’ll be allowed to choose two women to help you relax and choose from our special menu. That being said, not everyone is in, so you’ll have limited choices.”  The screen behind the man changes again to show different women than before, and immediately, you spot her. Nako was working here. You continue to look at the boar, seeing other idols on it. Some of them greyed out to show they were unavailable. 
“How do you get them to come when they’re so busy with other activities?” 
“They need to relax too. All things considered, they come here pretty often. So who would you like?” You look back at the board, seeing other Japanese idols like Twice’s J-line and members of Le Sserafim. 
“I’d like Nako and Kazuha.” 
“Great choices. Here is your room number. They’ll be there in a moment. You may take the elevator to the top floor.” You give the man a nod and head to your room. Thoughts run through your mind. You never expected to find out that idols would work at some place like this. You hadn’t even considered what you would do now that you were faced with meeting Nako and Kazuha. 
When you get to your room, you tap the card the man gave you and step inside. It was a fully furnished apartment on the inside. You walk further in, seeing the view from your floor. You could see block after block of the city from your room. Wanting to look at the other rooms, you first come across the bathroom; poking your head inside, you see the usual inflatable you had seen in porn and notice the giant bath behind it. The floor was all tile, with a drain in the corner of the room. You check the other side of your room, seeing it was just a bedroom. Checking through the dressers, you notice sex toys and condoms, among other things. 
You hear a small beep from the front and head back to the living room to see Nako and Kazuha standing there. What’s immediately noticeable is their lack of clothing. Both are wearing just their bra and panties, only after you notice their hair being up. You gulp, nervous and unable to say a word. They give you a small smile and wave, obviously used to being seen in their state. Nako takes the lead, walking up to you and wrapping her around your back. “Take good care of us.” She says, her head on your chest. She shines a smile your way before letting you go. 
Kazuha pats the short woman’s bottom, “Would you like to get started, sir?”
“I would.” 
“This way, then.” Kazuha grabs your arm, pressing it against her modest breasts as she leads you to the bath. Nako grabs your other arm. Kazuha turns the water on for the bath, and the pair begin to strip you down, working quickly. 
“Oh, look at this.” Nako teases as she pulls down your pants. Your bulge was obvious to everyone. She runs her small hands along it before kneeling and rubbing her face against it. “Ah, it’s been so long. Kazuha,  aren’t you excited?” She says, looking at the younger woman. She grabs Kazuha’s hand, placing it on your crotch. “It’s big, huh?” Kazuha’s cheeks turn red, and she looks away from you, embarrassed. “Let’s get these off.” Nako tugs at your underwear until it finally comes off, your cock smacking her forehead. She’s stunned for a second but quickly laughs it off. Her small hand struggles to wrap itself around your shaft. “You are big!” She exclaims with a huge smile on her face. You groan as she strokes your shaft. While Nako plays with your cock, Kazuha takes off the little clothing she has, unhooking her bra and tossing it near the door before stepping out of her panties. Your attention quickly returns to Nako as you feel her tongue running back and forth over your cock. 
“Ah, Nako.” You moan, feeling your knees get weak from the sudden pleasure. She giggles before continuing. 
“We should get you in the bath,” Kazuha says as she strips Nako of her bra. “Don’t you think that’s a good idea, Nako?” Nako has a slight frown on her face but agrees, letting you go to remove her panties. Kazuha leads you into the tub, stepping in to test the water. The tub was wide enough to comfortably fit the three of you, with Nako on one side and Kazuha on the other. The shorter woman couldn’t seem to keep her hands off you. She reached for your cock, stroking it slowly as she pressed her tits into your arm. Kazuha sees what Nako is doing and joins in, turning onto her side and cupping your balls as she drags her nipples along your arm. You’re eyes are glued to Nako as she steadily moves her hand along your shaft. She plants her lips on yours and speeds up. You grunt in response, struggling to do much else. Your hand wraps around Nako, squeezing her tit and making her moan. Her devilish smile grows as her grip on your shaft tightens. Kazuha begins to whisper into your ear as you focus on Nako. “You’ve got Nako wrapped around your finger. Did you know she’s on birth control? You can cum inside her all you’d like.” Kazuha’s sensual voice continues, “I’m on birth control too. I wouldn’t mind if you gave me a few creampies either.” 
Your cock begins to twitch in Nako’s hand. “Don’t cum so quickly. We’re just getting started. Kazuha and I still need to wash your body. Maybe we should use the mat. You’d like that, right? It would mean we get to use our entire body.” You nod along and get out of the bath with Nako and Kazuha. They place you on the inflatable mat. Nako grinds on your leg, lightly moaning as she stares at your cock. Kazuha had gathered water and soap to clean your body before seeing Nako enjoying herself. She huffs and puts everything on the floor before getting behind the petite woman. 
“Nako, you’re forgetting your job. We’re supposed to be making the customer feel good.” She says, grabbing Nako’s small breasts and squeezing them. The short woman throws her head back and moans. 
“You don’t mind, do you?” Nako asks as she grinds on your leg. “I just need a little release.”
“Nako, you’re being a slut in front of our customer,” Kazuha responds, digging her fingers into Nako’s skin.
“I’m a slut. I’m a slut,” Nako cries. “I don’t think I can wait any longer.” She breaks free from Kazuha’s grip and moves up to your crotch, rocking against your cock. Nako quickly raises herself and slams herself onto your cock. You fill the room with moans as you cum as soon as you’re buried inside Nako. You’re not the only one, though, as Nako cums with you. Feeling your warm cum flood into her cunt, Nako slowly grinds against you as she moans. Nako moves her fingers along her clit, rubbing it in small circles. “Ah, so full. I feel so hot, Kazuha.” You feel Nako’s cunt milking your cock. She was tight, her walls squeezing you with a lot of force.  Your eyes are glued to Nako, watching as she pleasures herself. You don’t notice Kazuha fingering herself as she watches Nako. She’s groping herself and pushing her fingers deeper into her cunt as Nako begins to move again. Nako leaves just the head inside before swallowing your cock in one movement. You stifle your moan while Nako lets hers fill the room. “You’re so big. Look here.” Nako says, pointing at a bulge. She presses on it; you grunt, realizing the bulge was because of you. Nako begins bouncing on your cock, moving at a steady pace as she gets used to your size. She holds your thighs and throws her head back as she moans, noticing Kazuha standing there. 
“Come on, Kazuha, join us. You’ll be in heaven.” Nako says, humming in bliss as she slams herself down, moving her hips to please both of you. Kazuha gets beside you, taking one of your hands and moving it toward her now aching cunt. “No, Kazuha ride him.” Nako says as she continues to use you. Kazuha looks at you, her face bright red, before nodding. She silently positions herself over your face, trying to lower herself gently. She was taking a little too long for you, and you decided to pull her down. Your tongue pushes past her wet lips, diving inside her. You felt Kazuha squirm on top of you; she placed her hands on your chest as she let a river of moans flow out from her. “It feels good, doesn’t it? Just wait until this is inside you.” Nako tells her coworker as she rubs the bulge. Kazuha's breathing quickens as she feels your tongue lapping at her walls. She struggles to keep herself up. Nako sees her friend struggling and lifts Kazuha’s head before kissing her. “I love seeing you like this.”  Nako seems almost drunk on the pleasure she’s receiving; she plays with Kazuha’s tit, attaching herself to her nipple and swirling her tongue around it.
You dig your hands into Kazuha’s waist, keeping her in place. She began to grind against your face, the pleasure making her go crazy. The pleasure from you and Nako was pushing her toward the edge. She started to whimper as she closed in on her climax. “I don’t want to…I don’t want to cum yet.” She whined as she came. Kazuha’s body twitched as she came, her body rocking uncontrollably. Nako smiled, loving the sight of Kazuha cumming on your face. You lap up her sweet nectar, making the younger woman shiver before she falls to the side. 
“Can you give me a taste?” Nako asks as she leans in. You were more than willing to share, pushing your tongue into her mouth. You sat up and grabbed Nako’s waist. You held her for a moment before moving her up and down your shaft. She began to groan as you took control of her. You rammed every inch into Nako’s small body, enjoying as her cries of pleasure came more often and eventually turned into whines. “I’m going to cum. I’m- I’m cumming!” Nako screamed as you continued to use her. Your cock began to twitch inside her cunt, and you told her to get ready for another creampie. “F-fuck, do it cum in me,” Nako whined as you impaled her on your shaft and shot your cum into her. Nako’s walls clamped down around your cock, rubbing the head and making you want to go deeper. Your cum flooded Nako’s pussy, leaking out of her before you even pulled out. You take a good look at Nako, the blissful expression on her face, the drool running down her cheek as her mind goes. 
Nako collapses on you, her cunt still squeezing your cock long after your orgasm ended. You lift her off and turn to Kazuha. She was face down on the floor, still recovering. Your eyes move down her smooth back until you notice her shapely bottom. You get behind her and stroke your cock, getting yourself ready for another round. 
With your other hand, you grab Kazuha’s waist and lift her ass. You press your cock against her entrance and slowly push yourself inside the young woman. “Ah, you're stretching my pussy,” She groans weakly. Kazuha manages to get her arms under herself and push her face off the floor. She looks over her shoulder to see you pushing yourself inside. Kazuha’s walls welcomed you, snuggly wrapping around your cock as you rested inside her. You were close to cumming, sensitive from your last orgasm. Still, you pushed onward, beginning to thrust into the young woman, your pace picking up. You have to dig your fingers into Kazuha’s waist to keep her from moving. As you’re pounding away at her body, you can’t help but look at Kazuha’s beautiful ass; you pull back your hand and slam it into her soft ass. She yelps from the hit. A handprint begins to form because of the force used, but Kazuha begs you to do it again. 
You drive your hand into her ass again. She moans this time, loving the pain. Nako comes around, lying on the inflatable mattress and looking at Kazuha. Her fingers playing with her clit as she watches. You’re getting turned on by having Nako watch you and begin to move faster, slamming yourself into Kazuha without a second thought. The young woman’s moans become louder, and her walls clamp down around your cock. You were both nearing your climax. You couldn’t hold it any longer and buried yourself inside Kazuha, filling her womb with your cum. Your orgasm triggered hers. As soon as she felt your thick cum fill her, Kazuha arced her back and came on your cock. You could hear Nako teasing Kazuha, but her words were muddled as you focused in on the image of Kazuha’s back.
When you start to regain yourself, you hear Nako’s voice. “We still have three hours, Kazuha. How are you going to last that long?” Nako pinched the younger woman’s cheeks. “Are you going to make me take him the whole time? I don’t mind, but you have to be professional.” Nako turns her attention to you. “Why don’t we head for the bedroom? We can take Kazuha with us. She loves watching.” You nod your head, ready to spend more time with Nako.
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astaroth1357 · 1 year
Text
"MC, Who's Best in Bed??":
*on an average HoL morning, the MC is trying to enjoy a cup of tea in the dining room but there's been nothing but shouting in the House for about an hour now... They’re nearly at their wits end when the seven culprits come marching in the room themselves, glaring at esch other. Before MC can even speak, Asmo takes initiative and slams his hands down onto the table, making their teacup clatter*
Asmo: MC, you have to be the one settle this! Which one of us is best in bed???
*the MC... almost does a spit take*
MC: Excuse me???
Mammon: You heard'em! You outta know by now, so who is it??
*the MC looks at their demons like they've gone mental, but seven pairs of eyes stare back at them expectantly, hell, even determinedly. Seeing that they likely can't weasel out of this, the MC gives in with a sigh*
MC: .... Do you really want to know?
Asmo: Of course!!
Satan: We promise we'll be alright with whoever you choose...
Mammon: But it's gonna be me, right??
Satan: Shut up, Mammon!! 😡
MC: Well... if I have to pick...
MC: It's gotta be Lucifer.
Lucifer: *smiles REAL wide for a guy who's been pretending that this conversation is juvenile and beneath him...*
Lucifer: Well. I think that settles that.
*he walks over and arrogantly kisses the back of MC's hand while his brothers all groan somewhere between irritation and disappointment...*
Mammon: Look what ya did, MC, he's never gonna get over himself now!!
Lucifer: Mammoooon?
Mammon: 😨 Shit!
MC: It is Mammon, actually.
Mammon: Eeh-?? Er, s-SEE I TOLD YA!!
*he tries to act proud, and he is, but it's pretty obvious to everyone that he got caught off guard and is flustered as hell*
Mammon: W-who else could it be but the Great Mammon? Right??? This is why I'm their first!!
*Mammon continues to loudly bluster and gloat as MC gets up from the table, taking their teacup with them*
MC: It sure is~
*they peck him on the cheek, which bluescreens his brain while his brothers scoff in disgust*
Belphie: Geez, at least get a room first guys... 🙄
MC: You won’t believe me, but it's Levi.
*the brother stop, collectively look at each other, and then shake their heads*
All (INCLUDING Levi): We don't believe you.
MC: *shrugs nonchalantly and takes another sip of tea* What'd I tell ya?
Asmo: MC, you can't be serious...
MC: *looks him dead in the eye* Two. Dicks. Need I say more? Because I can! He can also-mph!!
*a confused MC gets a hand clamped over their mouth by a mortified Levi, who's still puttering around to figure out how he should feel*
Levi: M-MC! Please...!! 😣
Satan: So there ARE some things that better left unknown... Fantastic... 😰🤢
MC: It’s actually you, Satan!
Satan: *blinks* Eh? Oh really...?
*already turning his head towards Lucifer with a BIG shit-eating grin*
Satan: What do you know? Looks like we've heard it, haven't we?
Lucifer: *angerily covering up his frustration behind a stone cold poker face* So we have... Not that it matters.
Satan: Hm. Your face says otherwise. 😏
Lucifer: Don't push your luck....
MC: Asmo. It's Asmo, it's obviously Asmo!!
Asmo: THANK YOU!!
Asmo: Honestly, it's like no one understands my job description here!!
Asmo: I can, will, and do fuck better than all of you! You just have to accept that. 😌
Mammon: Ugh! Give it a rest already... 😮‍💨
MC: You know what? It's Beel.
*the brothers stop and collectively look at their absolute UNIT of a sibling.... then breathe a combined sigh of defeat*
Beel: *flustered pink from embarrassment, but still very happy to hear it* Thank you, MC. 😊
MC: You're welcome, Beel! 🙂
MC: Weirdly enough, it's Belphie...
Belphie: What do you mean, "weirdly?"
MC: I mean, if we were just going based off resumes here, I wouldn't exactly put yours on top.
MC: But you're living proof "work smarter, not harder" are words to live by. Your technique is flawless!
Belphie: .... I'm not sure how to feel about this anymore....
Bonus:
MC: *gives a blank, thousand yard stare into the middle distance*
Mammon: Uhhhm.... MC? Still there?
MC: I just realized something... I'm really am going to Hell...
Levi: Huh? But you're already here...?
MC: *gets up from the chair and starts to jog away urgently* I think I need a priest...
Belphie: What? Why?? Is being here a problem to you??? 🤬
MC: *calls out as they skid past the doorway* It is because I'm fucking an angel!!! 😫
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marcsburnerphone · 3 months
Text
And they were roomates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: that captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (very minimal), injury(very minimal), john not knowing how to handle certain situation.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3!! - part 4
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That's when it started, the weird energy that set the scene for every interaction between the two of you. He couldn't help but start to see this so-called “tension” gaz had mentioned fulfill its way into your lives. Not only was it your beauty, it was the domesticity that settled in your relationship. You need that lightbulb in your room replaced, you politely knocked on his door, car troubles? Yeah John should know how to do that. But what scared him the most wasn't the attraction he felt towards you, it was your lack thereof. He never seemed to catch you sparing him any extra glances than were necessary. Unlike him he couldn't help but catch his greedy eyes secretly soaking in every inch of you when given the opportunity. 
But he couldn't be further than wrong 
Because at the opposite end of your home your mind seems to be obsessed with the thought of john. What a man he was. He must’ve been getting some back on base and you couldn't even be jealous, aroused though definitely. He's actually all 6 foot something of fine, absolutely climbable. But god does that man often look like he wants not a thing to do with you. Especially most recently you rarely even see him and when you do he barely speaks or spares you a glance.
—-----------------
“Hey, haven't seen you in awhile.” you surprise him extremely early in the kitchen one morning.
“Oh um good morning, I’m fine just been a bit busy. Why are you up so early?” He lies then quickly changes the topic knowing being awake during these hours of the morning  isn’t your forte.
“Scheduled a client for 6AM instead of 6PM and it's too late to cancel.'' He hums in response, willing himself to say something more but his mind comes up blank as it often does in your presence. 
So he leaves without a word and nothing in hand he just leaves. And you stand there absolutely thrown through the loop at the moment that you two just shared. 
—--------------
“We were doing great as roommates. You know I was comfortable and he seemed comfortable but now I swear that man avoids me like the plague.” you say to the longtime client in your chair.
“Maybe he’s just not social.” She chimes in, you concentrate while trying to part her hair before replying.
“I could see that being the case if he hadn’t been so social the previous two weeks you know, we’ve made meals in the kitchen together, watched television in the living room so I don’t understand what changed.” you say applying product to the sectioned hair.
“What if he doesn’t like you?” your hands pause for a second as you ponder the thought.
“Well I guess he doesn’t have to like me to live with me.” you say with very visibly discontent.
“But you on the other hand strive when people like you.” she replies, reading right through you.
“Well yeah I think anybody would.” you shrug.
“Not a military man who’s probably widely hated.” She's always right and you hate it.
“What's not to like about me?” you genuinely couldn't come up with an answer yourself.
“Are you a messy roommate or do you bother him a lot or do you nag him for his mess?” You can’t think of doing any of those but maybe asking for his help from time to time.
“I might be bothering him but nothing I would consider too much , just some help from time to time.” she laughs from her seat and you unenthusiastically spin the chair she's in to face you.
“Was it in the contract that he'd have to help you from ‘time to time’.'' You give her a quizzical look and she just continues.
“Men like to do the bare minimum and that's it. They hate being bothered. Take it from me. I'm married with three sons and they're all the same. Oh they have to do the dishes, sure, but will they dry them, or put them away? No, because that's not what I asked.” you hum understanding her point but still finding it hard to see john really feeling that way.
“So then I shouldn't ask him for anything and maybe he'll come around?” you ask in an unsure tone.
“yup.” she replies blunt, fast and very sure of herself.
—-----------
So you listened, this whole week you've not asked John for a thing which was pretty easy up until now. Your luck never fails to run out at the worst times. A flat tire in the middle of the road on your way home. You pull off to the side contemplating what to do as the sun is beginning to set and there's really only two options.
One, call John and ruin your streak of leaving him be. Two, call the car service company and pay their ridiculous prices to change the tire out. Of course you go with option two cause calling john seems to make you more nervous.
It takes 3 hours for the mechanic to get to where you are, change the tire, and point out other imperfections about your car that you pay no mind to. When you finally make it home you’re bothered, exhausted and broke.
John doesn't miss the unusualness of your late arrival but also doesn't question it, even though he wants to. Your groans of frustration echo through the hallway and he immediately can tell it was a bad day.
You change out of your work clothes and go into the kitchen for a snack as you do your daily phone call to your sister to tell her about the events of your day. John creeks his office door open to hear a little better but nothing noticeable. 
“He charged me six hundred dollars, I mean how is that even legal?” You complain into the phone that’s balanced between your neck and shoulder. 
“It was just my tire that was flat, nothing else.” you follow up while chewing on an apple. You swear you could cry by repeating that monstrosity.
John can't help but feel a bit confused and upset that you hadn't just called him instead of calling whatever dick that charged you that much for something so simple. Changing a tire is an easy 30 minutes that he definitely had on his hands especially for you. You had not hesitated asking for help before so what's changed now?
—-------------
“Okay, unscrew the old bulb and screw in the new bulb, very simple.” you reassure yourself as you stand on top of the tall ladder to replace the porch light. It’s icy outside and cold sweeps under your layers of clothes making your normally shaky hands shakier.
“Okay okay- damn it.” You drop the bulb that burnt out onto the floor watching the glass scatter.
You screw the new one in and step down, closing the latter with frustrated groan, then going to pick up the bigger shards to toss out before sweeping. You should’ve known that bulb glass was insanely thin and sharp but sometimes your brain leaves out the important stuff.
“Ow, fuck fuck fuck.” You cry out at the shard of glass that forms a long clean cut on your palm. You cry as you run into your home holding the cut tightly. Finding the sink you turn the water on and rinse it clean. Your ears don’t comprehend the loud footsteps that make their way towards the kitchen.
“What happened?” A deep voice sighs out behind you.
“Nothing.” Your hiccups escape involuntarily as it continues to bleed dramatically. You squeeze your eyes shut as it begins to burn more and more.
“Let me see.” He tries to grab at your hand genuinely concerned.
“I’m fine, it’s just a cut.” You resist him by keeping your hand under the water.
“Cut from what?” he's a bit frustrated at your refusal of letting his trained mind and hands help.
“I was changing the light bulb outside and one broke.” you admit quietly.
“Why didn’t you ask me to do it?” once again what is with you no longer asking him for his very available help.
“Cause I can handle myself John.” You’re irritated at the obvious evidence that you cannot. Your non wounded hand rips a paper towel from the roll and you hold it to the cut to go bandage it in your room. 
You leave John standing in the kitchen and don’t even look back as you make your way to your room. He stays in that same spot for a second wondering where your random change in attitude is coming from but in the end he comes up blank and goes out to the porch to clean the rest of the glass up.
—----------
You feel terribly guilty when you wake up the next morning to see the porch swept clean and ladder put away from the previous night. You toughen up and put your big girl pants on to go apologize. You knock on his bedroom door and hear ruffling on the other side before he answers.
“hey john i'm really sorry for-” you stop noticing him dressed from head to toe in his military attire and damn.
“For what?” He takes notice of your pause and one up.
“For um the way I acted last night I know you were only trying to help and um why are you dressed like that?” You can’t help but question it.
“I have to go on base for a little bit, maybe a day or two. It shouldn't be too long but who knows, let me grab my check for you.” He walks back into his awfully clean room and grabs something out of a drawer and hands you a white envelope that consists of his monthly rent.
“Oh okay.” You can’t even hide the blush that laces between your features and although he notices it he can’t pinpoint the reasoning.
“Also don’t be sorry we all have our days and I shouldn’t have overstepped.” You nod in response not really knowing what to say. 
“Okay bye then I guess.” You awkwardly wave at him even though you stand mere inches away from his tall frame. 
“Bye doll.” He says before you walk away entirely thrown over whatever conversation that was.
----------------------
comments and reposts and appreicated <3
thankyou for all the love on this story so far.
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oepionie · 1 year
Text
— "HIS COMPLETE DEVOTION" malleus draconia
SYNOPSIS: "Don't touch me! I have a lover!" - After accidentally getting hit in the head with a powerful spell, Malleus is left delirious and confused. You try to help him but he doesn't seem to recognize you.
Character/s: Malleus Draconia x GN! Reader
Tags: Fluff, Established relationship, Malleus is a loyal dragon, Reader is part of the gargoyle appreciation club, Mentions of nausea, He keeps a locket of you aww
A/N: This prompt/idea was requested by a friend!
WordCount: 800+ | 💌Masterlist | PART II HERE
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Green lightning began to strike and forsake the grey sky. Every student on campus could hear the wind howling through the thick dripping rain, a sinking feeling of dread permanating through the atmosphere.
The aged concrete walls shook from a shrill scream, the anguished cry echoing out through the hundred chambers in the castle.
"YOUNG MASTER!" Sebek drove his fingers into his scalp, screaming as thick tears dribbled down his flushed face. From his reaction, you'd think he was the one who got hurt instead.
Lilia tutted and carefully inspected Malleus' head. The young prince was laying on the ground writhing in pain. Lillia pressed his thumb against the dragon's temple, examining the Fae's reaction.
Sebek and Silver surrounded the two, ensuring that no one could get past them. Malleus was in a vulnerable state right now, he had to be protected at all costs.
"The spell was quite powerful however it's not serious. Other than some temporary mental confusion, he should be fine." Lilia muttered, helping Malleus stand up. The young prince stumbled around for a bit, almost as if he was intoxicated.
"Malleus!" You threw the doors to the dorm open, running over to the group. It's only when you got closer did you notice your lover's spinning eyes, glazed over as he blinks at the blank concrete floors. Worried out of your mind, you rushed over to him.
"Tsunotarou! I heard what happened…are you okay?" The fae appeared a little puzzled. You stood before him and he fixed his gaze on you, confused and...disgusted?
With a hint of hesitance, you reached your hands up to cup his cheeks. Only to gasp when Malleus glowered and grasped onto your wrists, ripping your hands off of his face.
Silence fell over the room as he dropped his grip on your arms, allowing them to hang limply by your sides. Everyone gawked at Malleus as if he had just grown two heads.
Malleus? Malleus rejected your affection? The Malleus who waits outside your dorm an hour before classes just to walk you to school? The Malleus who once caused a week-long storm just because he couldn't sit next to you in class? Your Malleus?
You felt your heart sink. They say drunk words were sober thoughts. Did Malleus secretly despise you?
"Listen here-" Malleus snarled, his unfocused eyes flashing a luminous emerald green. The radiance and illumination hypnotizes you for a while. A kaleidoscope of green and blue swirling around the gems that were his eyes.
"No matter how alluring you look-you can't tempt me. I-" Malleus lurched forward, nearly falling over. You ran to catch him but he pushed you away, stepping back blindly. He raised a finger at you. "I-I already have a lover!"
"Yes-That's…me?" You blinked, confused out of your mind.
Malleus only scoffs at you, shakily taking a few steps towards the entrance. It was clear that his head still shook and ached from the spell's blow. Sebek was quick to stop him, holding Malleus steady. "Young Master! Where are you going?!"
"To my-my treasure. My darling prefect." Malleus slurred, leaning against Sebek for support. He continued his rambling. "It's Thursday- We have a club meeting."
"Tsuno-I mean-Malleus, today is Tuesday." You piped up, pressing a hand against his back. With shaky legs, he pushed Sebek off and turned to glare at you.
"Silence. It is not."
Lilia laughs hysterically, doubling over and grabbing onto his knees. Oh, this was comedy gold for him. Shaking his head at his father, Silver strode up to Malleus and placed his hand on the young prince's shoulder.
"Malleus, you're still delirious. Why don't you sit down."
Both Silver and Sebek started to guide the woozy fae onto the couch. You followed suit, taking a pillow and placing it under his head. He turned to face you, his head spinning, a loopy snarl and glare on his face.
"I...I already told you- I have a lover." He groans into his hands, nausea washing over him like waves.
The fae begins frantically rummaging through his pocket. He yanks out a little locket in the form of a heart, holding it up for you to look at. He hands it to you with an arrogant smirk on his face.
"See?"
"O-Oh?"Gently taking it into your hands, you flipped the metal cover over to see a picture of you inside.
It was a photo from your very first anniversary. You were wearing a flower crown made with roses Malleus grew himself, it was one of the many gifts he gave you that day.
Though only your head and neck could be seen in the picture since his coat had almost completely engulfed you. It was a chilly day and Malleus graciously lent you his coat after you had forgotten to wear one.
You stared at the photo fondly, shutting it close before handing the necklace back to the fae.
"Your partner must be lovely." You whisper softly and Malleus sighs, lolling his head back to stare at the ceiling lovingly.
"Oh. They are much more than that."
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PART II | Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
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