#but to list off the ones that come to mind first

[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

[avatar-anna]

would you ever write about harry and y/n finding out that they’re pregnant again with charlie 🥺

yes!

(for context: in a recent oneshot in this universe, it is revealed that harry and reader have a seventh and final child when they're in their thirties)

It would definitely be that cliche of Y/n and Harry going to some red carpet event, and Harry sees Y/n all dressed up and is just like...

"Fuck, Mama, must be the luckiest man in the world."

Y/n blushed and looked down at the gown she and Harry Lambert picked out some time ago. Being a mother of six, she didn't dress up much, but when she did, she tended to go all out. Perhaps part of her wanted to relive all the proms, homecomings, and formals she never got to go to, but she appreciated the art in a beautiful garment too.

The one she wore now fit her like a glove, the lace, almost handkerchief-like bodice draping over her shoulders beautifully, and the rest of the black-as-night velvet hugging her hips perfectly.

Harry was never one to shy away from paying his wife compliments, but each time he did, she felt it right down to her core. Every sweep of his gaze over her body, every earnest word, every searing touch, it all lit her up from the inside out.

This time was no different, so when Harry tried to unzip Y/n from her dress, she didn't notice at first, too caught up in his touch. Once she did, she tried to make lame attempts to ward him off to at least claim that she tried later on.

It was safe to say they were on each other all night. Whenever he could, Harry pulled Y/n away, desperate to get his mouth on her. It was no easy feat with the considerable length of the dress, but he never seemed to care or mind. All night, they whispered back and forth to each other, toying with jacket lapels and bare arms.

"You need me again, Mama?"

"Where's the zipper on this thing?"

"Quickly, while no one's looking."

"Keep your hands away from my tits, H."

"Don't act like you don't love it."

All night they went back and forth. Teasing and giving into each other and sharing stolen kisses when the cameras weren't pointed in their direction—though the next morning they found out they weren't as discreet as they originally thought, with photos of them in the background kissing and Harry's hands all over Y/n cropping up online.

At some point during the night, a friend even asked where Harry and his wife kept disappearing to, another if that was a hickey on his neck, and both of them stumbled through a lie as they blushed furiously.

So it shouldn't have come as a surprise when Y/n's period was late, but it does. She thought she had put her pregnancy days behind her, so she went to the doctor thinking she had some kind of stomach bug, only to find out that she was pregnant. Y/n wasn't upset by the news, just caught off guard, though she couldn't help but daydream about having a little baby in the house again now that her other babies were growing up.

Harry found out on accident. Y/n missed a phone call from the doctor's office, and they called Harry's number, which was also listed in her information. Thinking someone got hurt, Harry picked up in a panic, only to hear, "Hi there, Mr. Styles! We're trying to get a hold of your wife to reschedule her ultrasound. Will the following week work?"

Harry answered in a daze, agreeing to an appointment time and date without really listening. Part of him knew he should be excited, but all he could think about was why Y/n hadn'told him yet.

"Anything you wanna tell me?" he asked later that night. They were both watching TV, a show they'd been watching every night before bed the last few weeks. He'd been itching to get Y/n alone all day so he could finally ask what the phone call, and after picking up and dropping off at friends' houses and volleyball practice and study groups and one big family dinner, now was finally his chance.

Y/n hadn't caught on yet, so she just shrugged. "Collette is convinced she's going to Paris Fashion Week by herself, and I don't have the heart to tell her she's not going without one of us."

This was news to Harry, but he tabled that conversation for later. "I got a call from the OBGYN's office. They asked to reschedule your ultrasound."

Harry could feel Y/n stiffen beneath him as she sighed deeply. Before she could say anything, though, he asked, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," she promised, kissing away the furrow in her husband's brow. "I wanted to tell you and the kids at the same time. And you know how hard it is to wrangle everyone up. Maeve wasn't even at dinner tonight."

"Oh." Harry had spun a number of different answers Y/n might've come up with, but that hadn't been one of them. "Do you...want to keep it?"

Y/n could tell Harry was asking for her sake, not his. He'd been dying for another baby for years, slowly giving up hope every time she turned him down. Now that they faced the prospect of actually having another baby, though, he didn't want her to feel pressured. He never had, but he wanted to make extra sure.

"Honestly? Yeah, I do," Y/n said, resting her and Harry's hands over her belly. "I'm just...kind of shocked."

"Really?" Harry asked. Now that he'd had time to think about it, about which night in question could've been the one, he wasn't that surprised at all.

"Yeah, I—I guess I thought that part of my life was over. But... I'm glad it isn't. I'm excited about this."

"Me too."

Y/n gave him an amused look as if to say, you finally got your wish. But all she said was, "You just like that I get super horny when I'm pregnant."

Harry gasped dramatically, which made Y/n toss her head back and laugh. "That is not even remotely true. Maybe. Sort of. It's perhaps in the top ten things I'm excited for, but not the first."

"You're ridiculous," Y/n said, shaking her head at her husband. "And I love you."

"I love you too." Harry leaned in to kiss Y/n, the feel of his lips on hers more familiar than anything else in the world. He knew every part of her, every inch of her body and soul, and she knew his. It was comforting, it was home.

"Any chance those hormones have kicked in yet?" Harry murmured jokingly as he kissed her neck.

Y/n held her husband by the back of his hair so she could look him in the eye. "Absolutely not. I love you, and I love the twins, but we're not doing that again."

"What? Come on! We're way past that window," Harry reasoned. "And the doctor said it was rare."

"Yeah, so is getting pregnant at my age, but here we are."

"At your age?" Harry asked incredulously, looking down at Y/n through heavy lidded eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, but her eyes were lit as she watched him, the way they always were when they joked around. He was pretty sure no one amused her more than he did, and that was saying something considering the collective craziness their children engaged in regularly. "You're just winding me up, aren't you? You want me to remind you how young and fun we are."

"I don't know if that's—Harry!"

"Shh!" Harry said as a laugh bubbled out of Y/n as he yanked her down until she was lying flat on the bed, her arms pinned high above her. "Do you want them to hear you, Mama?"

That sobered her up a little, her laughter subsiding. Then, she smiled up at him, her hand reaching up to cup Harry's cheek. "We're having a baby."

Harry's grin was immediate, excitement filling his whole body from those four words alone. "We're having a baby."

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

[daisyblog]

Perfect

Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry and YN’s “first time” together.

Requested by anon.

Warning: swearing, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, mention of body confidence

Harry followed behind YN as they walked through her front door, a pink blush on their cheeks from the breeze that surrounded them on their walk around the Heath. 

YN was mindlessly talking about her never ending list of things she needs to do for the florist, but Harry was lost in her. He couldn’t keep his eyes off the way her eyes went wider as she spoke, or how her hips swayed as she walked or how her jeans held the right amount of curve. 

He was trying his best to listen but his mind wondered to other things. The strain covered by his own trousers were making it harder for him to concentrate. They hadn’t gone any further than the odd touch whilst getting carried away as their lips melted against each other. 

YN lips twitched into a grin, as she held her hands on her hips with sass. “Are you listening to me?”.

“Sorry!”. Harry chucked as he moved towards her, pulling her closer by the loops on her jeans. “You’re just breathtaking and distracting right now.”. 

As his arms snaked around her hips, his hands landed in her back jeans pockets. “Oh really?”. YN’s voice held a suggestive tone, one that told him she was wanting him just as much as he wanted her. Her hands looped around his neck as she pulled him closer so their lips touched. 

They’d shared many steamy kisses and let their hands wonder above clothing, but tonight felt different. The way Harry’s hands wondered underneath the back of her jumper, feeling the warmth of her skin, and the way YN pulled him closer and moved her front against his to earn a deep moan, made it clear that they were both craving more. 

Harry trailed his wet lips down her neck, gently nibbling as the move. YN’s eyes involuntarily closed as she soaked up the moment that she hadn’t felt for years. A soft hum left her lips as Harry nibbled just below her ear. The sound only fed his ego and encouraged his movements. He placed his lips back on hers, their tongues finding each others with ease. 

As they craved more, their lips become messier, sloppily moving with urgency. Harry found her jeans button and popped it open before pushing his hand inside her pink lace underwear, and earning a heavy moan as he rubbed his two fingers against her core. 

“Fuck…you’re all wet for me.” Harry’s fingers continued to move in a rhythm. YN rested her head against his shoulder as she felt his fingers up the pace. Noticing her breathing becoming heavier, he moved his fingers faster against her. “Come for me baby!”. He spoke into her ear, earning a loud moan from her lips. The faster his fingers worked, the more her hips bucked against him. 

“Ohhh f-fuck…I..I..I’m..I’m gonna cum!”. YN closed her eyes as her fingers gripped onto Harry’s t-shirt, her hips buckling as she moved them against his fingers and when the feeling hit, Harry felt her thighs squeeze together as his fingers worked her through the high. 

Harry removed his fingers from inside her underwear, and held her body to him as she breathed heavily against him. He placed a peck to her sweat covered forehead. “Well that was fun!”. He chucked as he broke the silence. 

YN lazily lifted her head to look at him, her eyes still hazed as she tried to catch her breath. “I’ve never come like that before!”. 

“Really!”. Harry could feel his shoulders straighten with pride. Especially when began to leave small pecks down his neck, before making her way down his jaw and kneeing down on the cold kitchen tiles. Harry knew where this was going, as much as he wanted her to, he didn’t want her to feel pressured. “YN..baby..you don’t need to-“. 

As her hands unbuckled his belt, she smiled up at him. “I want to.”. Harry could feel himself get harder against his jeans, but he let out a breath of relief when YN pulled his jeans and boxers down to realise him. 

He looked down and watched as her hand wrapped around him and started to pump slowly on the tip. Harry took small breaths as he felt her hand start to move a little faster down his lengths. After a few more hand strokes, he closed his eyes when he felt her lips around his tip and his length slide down her tongue. 

“Ohh…ohhh….that pretty fucking mouth!”. Harry dared to take a look down at YN, as his length disappeared in and out her mouth causing her lips to swell. Between his thoughts and the feeling of sucking on the tip as she twirled her tongue, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. 

Not wanting to come too soon, he reached down to the side of her neck and gestured her to stand back up. “C’mere!.” He kissed her with force as he reached down to hold the back of thighs, YN taking the hint to jump up into his arms. 

“You’re so beautiful!”. He whispered on her lips as he blindly walked up the stairs, being careful not to fall as he did so. 

“You’re the beautiful one!”: YN spoke back in between kisses. Her hands finding themselves slipping through his curls. 

As they reached YN’s bedroom, Harry gently laid her down on the soft white duvet. He could see a change in YN’s confidence, she wasn’t as eager as she was before. He could see her having a fight with herself. 

“Hey…we don’t have to do this.”. He reached down to press his lips to her for comfort. “You can be honest with me”. 

YN nibbled on her lip as she debated telling him the truth. She could see Harry’s eyebrows frown with worry. “I…I…”. She took a deep breath to calm the nerves. “I just want to prepare you…I haven’t got the perfect body..or…or…perfect skin…I’ve had a baby…I’ve got stretch marks and loose skin and yeah”. 

“And who said that’s not perfect?”. YN was taken back by Harry’s response. She’d expected him to leave and say he wasn’t interested anymore, but his next move made her fall deeper than she already did. “Your body is perfect…your skin is perfect…your body created a life and I want to show you how perfect you are”. 

YN pulled him down to meet her lips half way, their mouths were messy, eager and full of want. Their hands kept themselves busy as they removed the rest of their clothes, leaving them both bare as they were tangled with each other. 

As they continued to move their lips together, like their lives depended on it, Harry checked they were both happy without a condom. YN agreed as she was on birth control.

Harry reached between them and lined himself up with her entrance, sliding it up and down covering it in her arousal and earning a happy groan from YN. After seeing the wetness covering his length, he moved it back to her core. “Ready?”.

YN nodded as she anticipated the uncomfortable ache she was about to feel, after not having sex for so long. She watched as Harry involuntarily closed his eyes as he slowly pushed into her. A grunting moan left his mouth, as she let out a hiss as she felt her muscle tense.

“Breathe…breathe for me baby”. Harry leaned down so their noses were touching. “I won’t move until you’re ready”. He was desperate to move his hips but he stuck to his words.

After a couple of minutes, the ache disappeared and YN gave Harry the go ahead. He gently pulled out, before he moved his hips closer to YN. “Fuck…you’re so big”. Her words shocked Harry but it only turned him on more.

“Ohhh…fuck me!”. Harry didn’t hold back as he felt the build up in his lower stomach. “You feel so good”. His movements were quick as he slid his length in and out, his breath was fast as he felt himself get closer.

YN’s hands scrunched the sheet in her fingers. “Go faster!”. She encouraged his fast thrusts as she felt her own build up. Harry knew he was close so he placed his thumb on her bud and rubbed as he continued to thrust into her. “Ohhh…yeah…right there!”.

“Come for me baby…c’mon come against my fingers again”. YN could feel it in her tummy, the excitement growing with both his thumb moving in circles and his length hitting the spot.

Her hips bucked up, her hips lifting off the bed and Harry let go himself and came at the sight of YN coming against his fingers.

As they both came down from their high, Harry flopped down beside YN on the bed, wrapping his arm around her bare waist as he did. “You alright babe?”.

“I’m fucked!”. YN breathed out as her eyes were still closed and limbs weak. “Quite literally”. She let out a laugh as her own joke.

Harry got up from his place and walked into the en-suite and switched the shower on. YN was still in the same position but now her eyes were open watching his move.

“C’mon…let’s get you showered before bed”. Harry placed his hand under her legs and the other under back as he picked her up in his arms with ease.

“You’re too good to me”. YN held onto his shoulder as he walked them into the now steamy bathroom. Harry let YN down as they both in the shower. The water covering them as they stood underneath. YN eyes screamed tiredness as the water washed down her face.

“C’mon sleepyhead…turn around”. YN followed Harry’s instructions and turned so her back was now facing him. The feeling of his fingers massaging her head surprised her as she felt the shampoo bubble on her hair.

It was the first time they were silent all evening as Harry continued to wash YN’s hair with conditioner. They both shared shy glances as they washed their own bodies, and sweet kisses as they stood under the water.

After their shower, Harry helped YN dress into her pyjamas and he put on a clean pair of boxers. YN sat in awe at how Harry found her hairbrush and hair dryer, and brushed through her wet hair before drying her hair.

They crawled under the duvet, YN was quick to find her new favourite spot on Harry’s chest with his arm wrapped around her. “Thank you”. Her words were quiet as her eyes become heavier.

“For what?”. Harry questioned as he pressed his lips to the top her freshly washed hair.

“Accepting me”. YN’s words were a whisper as she quickly fell asleep with her ear pressed against Harry’s chest.

“I adore you, Golden girl”.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07-blog @sleutherclaw

[justghoulythingz]

i want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you…

a drabble for anonymous taken from this prompt list.

pairing : ghoul/lucy maclean

word count : 846

warnings : some good old fashioned self-loathing, rope to restrain, mentions of sex. 18+, mdni

divider credit

It’s been centuries since Cooper Howard has gotten this involved with anyone.

He’s a bit like a stunted foal: clumsy yet reluctant to admit it; so used to being somewhere dark and grisly and detached that when the sun hitched to Lucy MacLean shines, it burns his irreversibly damaged skin. Gives it a kind of glow that he has to kill every time it threatens to bloom.

Self-inflicted wounds are easier to nurse. What’s the point of watering the dead garden his innards are overgrown with?

He winces when she touches him. That’s why her wrists need to be kept bound when he explores her. So she can’t feel how much she affects him. So she doesn’t get the wrong idea.

This ain’t love. Not that she has much experience with the romantic variety. He’s got plenty to keep close to the chest.

He gave himself to his Barb and she trampled him so far into the dirt that he might has well have been buried that fateful day.

The consequential marks don’t seem to bother Lucy. She’s a curious sort. One of the things Cooper admires about her. In the same breath, however, he doesn’t mind if for once she’d give it a proper fucking rest.

She moves too fast for him. He’s not entirely certain he wanted to budge in the first place.

Here she is with his face entombed in her neck, kissing and licking and nibbling as she opens herself to him. Thinking about how he would drag his nose along the slopes and valleys that comprise her if he could. How she deserves a man who’s whole and not whatever husk was violently spat out.

He can plainly see she yearns to reciprocate. Restless energy makes her grit her teeth and clench her thighs, squirming about as he gets to roam free. A low, long-winded hiss manages to escape between the soft, swollen lips he’s already branded.

“Tell me what y’want, angel wings. Use your big girl words. Y’had no trouble up t’this point.” He smiles against her throat, keeping her body caged. His voice cuts through like a saw hacking down a tree. Chop chop chop. Devastation as it crashes to the ground.

She sighs heavily and attempts to fix her posture. He’s very skilled at distracting. It’s not lost on her that he does so on purpose.

“Can you look at me first, Cooper?” she asks, chest heaving. He wonders how their hearts would feel galloping together. He doesn’t take his clothes off for her.

Some days, he wants to.

“Alright,” he begins, angling himself backward and resting one palm on the wall above her head. He can humor her. “I’m lookin’.”

And boy does he look. How can one not, with those doe eyes, large and all-encompassing like a lush forest of green and brown and gold?

His expression takes on that of a predator’s honing in on its prey. Except she’s taken hold of his hide and shredded it until it’s all mangled and indistinguishable. He feigns he has the upper hand. He feigns many things.

Lucy utilizes a few more moments to compose herself. Logic has been replaced with emotion. That requires a different type of effort to navigate.

Normally he would hurry her along, he don’t got all day. But really, he does. Why not spend it admiring a work of unabashed art that spawned from, according to him, the depths of hell?

“As much as I enjoy you getting your excess of me, I feel…” She exhales, shaky. “I feel like that excess has snatched away my enjoyment of you. I, I feel incomplete. It’s not as satisfactory as I know it could be.”

The old, tattered cowboy doesn’t answer. It’s difficult to swallow. She is expectant, but she’s also learned to lower said expectations when it comes to him. So she carries on of her own accord.

“What I want, Cooper, is you. All of you. I’m not satisfied with this half-baked sex we’ve been having. I want to pleasure you. Have you gasping for air and unable to think clearly.”

If she only knew.

“I want you to orgasm in my vagina and mouth and hand and, and wherever else, I don’t care! Except that’s really not true. I do care. I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you. And I want you in all the ways you haven’t let me have you. That’s what I want.”

She’s so technical sometimes that it usually makes him roll his eyes or laugh. Now, he doesn’t do either.

Instead, he grasps her chin and tilts it upward. He shoots her one last isolated once-over and seals their fate with a fervent kiss. The hand once above her travels below and deftly releases her from her binds. The rope falls to the dusty floor with a resounding thud.

“Best get t’work then,” Cooper murmurs against her cushioned mouth. Like a warm, forgiving blanket waiting to surround him, even after being away from home for months, years.

“‘Fore I change my mind.”

[komorezuki]

Time for crack theories. Has anyone already supposed that Metatron can be really the God themselves?

Disclaimer: no one hecked my English spelling today so there must be many mistakes. I 'd appreciate it if you point out my mistakes in dm. (￣▽￣人)

Where are your arguments Kmrzk, you can ask. Well, first, I thought about his nature and I think he is not an archon, he is something other. Let's look at his nature again: he was never a human, he is above all angels and is still missing in the employee database. He is the Voice of God. "To speak to me is to speak to God. I am the voice of the Almighty."

Ok it's curious but not enough. What if I can give some assumptions about his actions? What if it was Almighty's actions?

Final fiftheen

I don't believe he is evil. Can we assume that his conversation with Azicrow was a testing of them all? Almighty definitely knows all they both did, because this is, you know, ALMIGHTY. What does She like to do? TESTING. She is testing Her children, and She has the ineffable plan blablablabla. She gives free will to people to see what they will choose. The same is about Azicrow. She is just looking at what they will choose.

The trial

Metatron's conversation during the trial. Seems he is the boss there (he really is). I always thought why Gabriel cant decide, and I think he can and he knows it. I am the only First Order archangel,  I'm the only one in this department who has a degree in ass-kicking, I went to Ass-Kicking University and something something. Angels are testing him trying to frighten by the Fall, and he is like ok drop me and what's next? i am still saying nah. Even the threat of memory erasing can't make him change his mind. Testing is passed, I guess. Gabriel is free, and he will not be pursued.

Michael/Uriel

PROBABLY Almighty/Metatron (i will say "A/M" about they both in the future) also tests Michael and Uriel. At least their hunger of power. They fight for being in charge. And Michael treats Azi. Then A/M arrives and says "fuck you michael an fuck you uriel too you can't even do anything".

Of course, as an angel, Uriel worries about doing Good and Right Things. And A/M is like "we will see. Fuck off you all and by the way I am going to make this soft principality your boss, so deal with it. Let's look at what you will do". Archangel's testing goes on, and I am wondered if they will pass it.

Muriel

They are really an open-minded angel. All that you need is giving them knowledge. And that's what A/M does.

Conclusion

My opinion: M is either God's incarnation or an executor of God's will. He is associated with Sunday from the book "The Man Who Was Thursday" (@kayleefansposts thank you for this). Anyway, Almighty and M are on the same side, and M knows what he does. I think that the final goal of A/M's testing is pushing to the realization of the free will and making their own plans and decisions. That's what Gab did, that's what Azi has to do. That's what other angels can (or can't) do.

But where are demons here???

As you see, I didn't include demons in A/M's to-do list, and that's for the reason. Demons have already made their own decision and fall for that. They passed this test by default, and A/M literally says this about Crowley. Also notice that Saraqael isn't tested. Another argument in favor of my demon!Saraqael theory.

BONUS

M ingested things in his time, but he wasn't a human. What if we consider M as God's avatar? That happened at once, you know, there was a guy who said like "love each other" and so on. By the way, he promised to come back. And that's what M is preparing. The Second Coming is started by Jesus 2.0. Do what you want with it.

[roseghoul26]

Chapter 9: ...And Now I'm Covered In You

Synopsis: A fic based off the song “ivy” by Taylor Swift. After a startling introduction to the man, Arthur Morgan became the most important part of your life. Married at a young age to an older, wealthy man to help your family, you were trapped in a loveless marriage, your only sense of escape with the rugged cowboy. Will you be able to keep your affair hidden, or will your husband find out, and destroy the last thing that made you happy? Tags: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Strangers To Lovers, Infidelity, Fem!Reader, She/Her Pronouns Used For Reader, Period Typical Misogyny, Emotional Manipulative Relationship (not with Arthur), Mostly Follows Timeline of Game, High Honor Arthur Morgan, Not Beta Read, Slow Burn, First Kiss, Arthur Is Bad At Emotions, Confessions, First Time Together, Cunnilingus, Missionary, Doggy Style, Handjobs, Mirrors, Tags Updated Per Chapter Author's Note: lots of dialogue because i can’t make them stfu :) also smut in the first half, in case you don’t want to read it Taglist: @lokiofasgard12 @ultraporcelainpig @that-one-beannnn @morethantheycansay @nn-hh192 Chapter List

To say you were surprised when you woke up with your face buried in the chest of Arthur Morgan would be an understatement.

When you woke, the realization made you gasp, almost immediately regretting it when Arthur began to stir. Luckily your outburst had been quiet enough that he fell right back asleep, his arms pulling you closer. 

The events of the night, and morning, came back to you then. Flashes passed through your mind; the way his hands had felt, the way his lips had covered your body, the way he stretched you so deliciously. It was all a blur, ending sometime in the early morning. You knew because you heard the birds singing as you fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms. 

The aches in your body made sense, then, and why you felt like you hadn’t slept a minute. Every muscle felt like it had been pushed to the maximum, and if you were able to move you were certain it would hurt. But you were stuck, unable to get out of the embrace Arthur held you in. Even his legs had you in a lock, tangled with yours underneath the sheets. You were stuck. 

You were just able to look up at him with weary eyes. Sunlight illuminated him, and you could see details about him that you hadn’t been able to before. His eyelashes were quite long, resting on his cheeks as he slept. You noticed some beauty marks that dotted his face, even lighter than the few that you knew of, and you swore you even saw some freckles. 

There were also some light scars that had faded over time. One stretched across his nose bridge, no doubt from the injury that made it crooked in the first place. Another nicked his eyebrow, barely messing with the hair there, and you’d have never seen it if you weren’t this close. In his beard, you were just able to see the scar tissue there. You’d always assumed that the small patch there just never grew hair, but you now knew that it was a scar. 

You then examined the features that you knew so well, the ones you’d come to love dearly. His soft hair, mused and ruffled from hours of your hands in it. The arch of his brow, the creases of his eyes, the slope of his crooked nose. His lips, so plush and soft, the ones that had been all over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you stretched, barely able to brush his lips with your own. 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d do that.”

Arthur’s voice made you jump out of your skin, your aforementioned weariness dissipating as adrenaline kicked in. “Arthur,” you gasped out, unable to hide a small smile. “How long have you been awake for?”

“Long enough to know you’ve been starin’ at me.” His voice was gravely with sleep, even more rougher than normal. It made you shiver. 

“How could I not?” You sighed, staring at him with obvious adoration. 

A dusting of pink colored his cheeks, smiling broadly at you. “How you can stand to even look at this mug is beyond me. And to enjoy lookin’ at it?” He shook his head, and you felt one of his arms unwrap from around you. You melted when he rested his now free hand on your cheek, fingers weaving into your hair. “I don’t deserve you.”

Before you could argue that he did indeed deserve you, he was pulling you in, kissing you properly. It was short, but it conveyed something that made your heart thud rapidly. His hand remained on your cheek even when he pulled away, thumb caressing the skin slowly. Now that you weren’t so startled, you felt tired once again, and the soft way he was holding you certainly wasn’t helping, and neither was the heat from his body. 

You must’ve yawned, because Arthur was chuckling gently with a fond look on his face. “Few more minutes?” He asked, and you nodded. He pressed a final kiss to the top of your head, making you relax even more, before returning his arm to where it had been a few moments prior. “A few more minutes, then.”

It didn’t take long for you to fall back into a content slumber.

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

The two of you definitely slept in longer than a few minutes.

You weren’t sure how long exactly, but you knew a significant chunk of time had passed. 

It was hunger that woke you now. Your stomach grumbled and twisted, and you tried to ignore it, shuffling deeper into the mattress.

But it wasn’t the hunger pangs that made you jolt upright. It was the lack of Arthur’s body next to yours, no longer holding you. 

Setting a hand to where he had been, you were weirdly relieved when you found it to still be warm, and you heard the sound of running water from the ensuite bathroom. 

Now sitting upright, you were now regretting getting up so quickly, your muscles complaining. Rubbing at your neck, you were surprised to find that it was more tender than anticipated, but only in certain spots. In fact, as you rubbed at the weary muscles, you found more spots like that: along your breasts, in between your thighs, across your stomach. There weren’t a lot, but it was enough to be a tad bit alarming.

Pulling off the sheet that covered it, you couldn’t help the small gasp that left you as you saw the various marks peppering your body. There weren’t even more than ten, not including the ones you now presumed to be on your neck. The sight made you reel, enjoying it far more than you thought you would. 

After a bit of pain, you managed to get out of bed, but standing was a whole different story. Your knees practically gave out when you took the first step, and you had to hold onto the bed to support. You were grateful that Arthur was currently in the bathroom, unable to see what he’d done to you.

It took longer than it should’ve, but you eventually made your way to the vanity and mirror tucked into the corner of the room. You never used this one, opting for the one in the bathroom or closet, but you highly doubt you’d be able to make it to the closet. And the other one was preoccupied, and you highly doubt that Arthur would mind if you barged in, but you still wanted to give him privacy.

You gasped again when you saw your reflection, but you’d be a liar if you said the sight wasn’t erotic. Your neck had seen the worst of it, darkened hickeys lining both sides, and you ran a tentative finger over them, which made you fight back a small hiss of pain. 

You heard the sound of the bathroom door opening, and when you turned your head you were met with the glorious sight that was a completely bare Arthur. He hadn’t caught your eye yet, running his hands through his hair, smoothing it out as best he could. When he realized the bed was empty, though, he looked around, and then his eyes finally fell to where you were standing. 

A series of emotions passed over his face as he regarded you; surprise, appreciation, then thinly veiled desire. You couldn’t look away as he began to saunter over, a playful smirk on his face, and you focused hard on keeping your gaze at an appropriate level. Arthur seemed to have no qualms with checking you out, his eyes flicking over every part of you, making you feel warm. 

“Good morning, Arthur.” Your voice didn’t like that you tried to talk louder than a whisper, and it sounded scratchy and airy. 

“Good afternoon, darlin’.” When he finally reached you, he stood behind you, arms wrapping around your body and pulling you into him. His head rested on your shoulder, the stubble of his beard pressing into your skin. After making sure any hair was out of the way, you felt as he pressed a gentle kiss against your neck, and you felt yourself go completely lax in his arms.

He met your eyes in the mirror as he held you, rocking your body slightly. “Gorgeous,” you heard him murmur, and you tore your gaze away, your cheeks burning. “None of that, now,” he laughed lightly, drawing your attention back to him. “There you are.”

He was staring at you hungrily, shaking off any remnants of sleep in your body. He was insatiable, but you were loving it. You’d never felt this desired, this craved, and it made you feel good. 

Keeping one arm slung around your waist to keep you pressed close to him, you felt as he began to brush his fingers over the marks around your neck, much lighter than you had. Still, it elicited a small noise of complaint from you. “M’Sorry,” you heard him murmur, and you shook your head in response. 

“Does it seem like I’m complainin’?” You chuckled lightly, but there was still a hint of guilt on his features. “Just, no more. I don’t know how I’m coverin’ these, let alone more.”

“So you are complainin’.”

You dramatically rolled your eyes, much to the amusement of Arthur. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He just hummed noncommittally, eyes never leaving your body in the mirror. It was quite a nice sight, you wrapped up in Arthur’s arms, the evidence of the night's escapades littering your body. “Hell of a sight to walk out and see,” he murmured, taking on a raspy tone that you’d come to know quite well over the past day. 

“Not a bad sight yourself.” Your already unsteady legs grew weaker when you felt him begin to drag his fingers down. “Arthur…”

“Want me to stop?”

“You better not.”

A breathy laugh left Arthur. “Understood, darlin’.” As you asked, he continued, making you shiver and press into him. His chest was practically flush with your back, and you could feel it begin to rise more rapidly with barely contained excitement. When he grazed your breasts, the responding noise you made made him grin, and you could feel him half-hard against your back. 

You tried to reach behind and touch him, but he lightly redirected you. “Later. Lemme make you feel good.” You expected to feel him grope at your breasts, so you jumped a bit when you felt his touch continue below them, traveling down and down. It was like he had one goal on his mind.

He had to lean over slightly in order to reach comfortably between your legs. Your eyes fluttered close when you felt him there, but a gentle nudge had you opening them back up. “Keep your eyes open,” he instructed. “I want you to see yourself fall apart.” His words, along with the just-woken-up gruff tone in his voice, made you shiver. 

You could do nothing but nod, forcing your eyes to stay open as you felt him brush between your folds, fingers barely grazing your clit. But he didn’t tease you, his touch returning to that spot and focusing in on it. Your light gasps turned to moans as he worked you, muttering praises in your ear, his head still resting on your shoulder. 

Blue eyes were locked onto you in the mirror, mesmerized by the way your features contorted in pleasure, your mouth agape as noises left you. One of your hands rested on the one between your thighs, the other reaching up and around, tangling your fingers into his hair. He was practically holding you up at this point, your legs long since turned boneless. 

“Look how beautiful you are,” he murmured, catching your gaze. The slow but persistent movement of his fingers had slowly started to build up the tension in you. 

“Arthur…” Your eyes threatened to close. 

“You gettin’ close, darlin’?”

You mumbled something in response, but it was enough for him. “Just let go,” his teeth nip at your ear. “Wach how beautiful you are when you cum.”

And you did. You watched the way a breathless sigh caught in your throat, your lips a perfect ‘o’ shape. You watched how your cheeks flushed, your eyes rolled back, the fingers in his hair turning deadly as a gentle orgasm washed over you. It left like a caress of a gentle wave over your body, not hitting you like it did last night, but that didn’t make it any less satisfactory. 

He helped you ride through your high, and you pushed away his hand when it became too much. Your eyes were still locked onto both of your reflections, his glistening fingers retracting themselves. Blindly, you reached behind you, hearing him let out a choked noise when your hand wrapped around him, now fully erect against your back.

But you found the angle too awkward, and so twisting in his arms you finally faced him. Pressing kisses against his collarbones, you began to stroke him slowly, quickly picking up speed when you felt him press himself into your hand. His breathing was already labored, and you realized how worked up he had gotten from pleasuring you, being already this close. 

“Arthur,” you sighed against his neck, running your free hand up his chest. Your nails scrapped lightly, running through the hair on his chest. He groaned out your name in response, head resting against yours, his breathing hot and heavy. 

It only took a few more strokes before, with a shuddering breath, he came. His spend coated your stomach

“Let’s get washed up before we spend the whole day in here,” you chucked lightly, still catching your breath.

“That doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

“I don’t think I’ve got the stamina-”

“Who said anythin’ about sex, darlin’? I could be content just holidn’ you in my arms all day.”

For a moment, you seriously considered his argument, the bed looking quite inviting from where it sat behind Arthur. But before you could answer, your hungry stomach decided to answer for you, interrupting the silence. Embarrassed, you groaned, head resting on Arthur’s chest, and you felt it rumble as he laughed. “Guess that answers that, then.”

Tugging you to the bathroom, Arthur helped wash your skin, before letting you go to the closet to get dressed. But before you did, you snuck him a kiss, laughing when he chased after your lips. Donning a high-neck blouse, which rubbed uncomfortably against your neck, as well as a skirt, you felt the ache in your muscles as you dressed, making you wince and grin.

Finished, you headed downstairs as Arthur got washed up… again. There was a newfound energy in your step as you descended the stairs, your nerves still buzzing pleasantly. You chuckled when you saw Arthur’s hat discarded on the ground, and so after heading over and picking it up, you put it on one of the couches, easy for him to grab. 

Your grumbling stomach led you to the kitchen, where you got to work on making breakfast, which consisted of oatmeal and fruits. It was when you were making his bowl when you saw him enter, the bottom half of him covered in clothes. His button-up was on, sure, but was left completely open, giving you a perfect view as he approached. You tried not to look too disappointed when he buttoned it up halfway.

“What’s all this?” He asked, his hands returning to where they had been when he first held you in front of the mirror. 

“Breakfast, although I suppose it’s a bit late for that,” you laughed. “And you better watch those hands, Arthur.” His hands had begun to travel southward with a mischievous look.

Caught, he stopped his exploration, but he continued to hold you. His smile was infectious as you felt it press against your skin, and you bit back a laugh at the way his beard tickled you. No matter how many times you felt it, you’d never get used to it. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“It’s nothin’. I was hungry, and I figured it be rude to make you watch me eat.” He chuckled. “Bowl on the right’s yours.”

He hummed in thanks but was apprehensive about removing his hands, opting to hold you for a few moments longer. He eventually did, though, then made his way to the table with you following behind. Like the person he was, he pulled the chair out for you, leaning down and sneaking a kiss in while pushing the chair in. It made you chuckle, and your heart felt warm as you watched him sit next to you.

As the two of you began to eat in comfortable silence, you couldn’t help but marvel at how right it all felt. Waking up in his arms, him joining you in the kitchen, even eating breakfast together. It all felt like it was meant to happen, meant to be. And when you glanced up from your bowl and saw Arthur’s eyes on you, you knew he felt the same.

But you’d never pictured Arthur as a domestic man. He was an outlaw, a person not tied down by anything, be it rules or people. What that meant for your future together, you weren’t quite sure, but for now, you were content to just ignore it. It had been a great day so far; you didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about the future. 

Sliding your arm toward him, you took one of his hands, and he squeezed gently in response. Even though he’d had his hands over your entire body last night, something that would normally make you want to crawl out of your skin if it was any other person, this touch felt somehow more intimate, more personal. 

You hadn’t even realized you’d been laughing lightly until he raised a brow at you, a smile curling the corners of his lips. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.” And it was true, there wasn’t actually anything funny with the situation. Well, it certainly was a bit funny, as you were currently in love with the man who had tried to break into your house all those weeks ago. You were just so damn happy that you couldn’t keep it contained any longer. “Nothin’ at all.”

“You’re a strange woman,” he mumbled in jest, the same words he had uttered to you in Rhodes when you first met properly. 

“And I’ll still take that as a compliment, Arthur.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Did you ever think this would happen?” You asked after a moment of silence. “Me, you, this?” You shook his hand lightly. “What’d you think was gonna happen when we first met?”

“Certainly not this. When I first met ya, in Rhodes,” he added when you began laughing again, “I thought you were gonna be another high-society person that I’d crossed, and I fully expected ya to send the law after me for what I did. But when that didn’t happen, well, I just had to talk to ya. You were, are, less… uptight than I thought you’d be. I’d never thought you’d been raised wealthy by the way you acted. And I mean that in the best way possible.”

“I guess we both surprised each other, then. Your appearance deceives you.”

“It’s supposed to,” Arthur sighed. “My life’d be much harder if it didn’t.”

“If only they knew how much of a softie you were,” you teased. 

“Soft?” He repeated, almost offended. 

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, you know.”

“I… I suppose not,” he relented. “Just don’t let the others back at camp know,” he added with a chuckle, but there was the slightest hint of alarm in his eyes. “They’d never let me hear the end of it.”

“Your secret is safe with me. And your reputation.”

“Much appreciated, darlin’.”

“How is camp, by the way?” You were genuinely curious. “How is everyone?”

“I’m not gonna lie, things have been… tense lately. John’s son, Jack, was taken, but we got him back. Angelo Bronte, over in Saint Denis, had him.” You knew that name. Everyone in the area knew who Angelo Bronte was. You also knew that only the foolish tried to work with him. In the back of your mind, you wondered if Hans had dealings with him. 

“Bronte? You got him to listen to you?”

“Had to do a job for him, but yes. You know him?”

“Not personally, but I’ve been to his house plenty of times. If you got money or somethin’ to offer him, then you’ve been to his parties.”

“Dutch somehow managed to weasel us onto the guestlist for one happenin’ in a couple of days. Thinks we could get some good leads there.”

“Well, Dutch is right ‘bout that. Secrets are spilled there like it’s nothin’, even more so after drinks are had. Are you goin’?”

“Don’t have much choice in the matter.”

“Me neither. But, depending on when he gets back, I might just see you there.”

That seemed to cheer Arthur up over the prospect of having to rub elbows with high-society. “You’re goin’ to?”

You shrugged. “Like I said, it all depends. He usually likes to go, and it’s comin’ up around the time he usually comes back. But no promises.”

“Well, now I’m excited, maybe seein’ you in a party dress.” And you were excited at possibly seeing Arthur in a tux. 

“Gonna have to be a high-neck dress,” you grumbled, making Arthur laugh. “But other than that, things are… good? As good as they can be?”

“We had to relocate to an abandoned plantation house, Shady Belle. It’s a good spot, ‘cept for the gators. But we shouldn’t be bothered by law for a while.”

“I dunno if Javier told you, but I offered you all my house if you ever need a place to stay. Not just you, but everyone.”

“Oh, he told us alright. Dutch debated sendin’ Jack and Abigail, his mom, over to ya to keep him from gettin’ taken again. But John wanted ‘em to stay in camp.”

“Is John his father?”

“As much as he tries to fight it, yes.” It seemed like a sore spot, so you didn’t press it.

“Well, if they ever change their minds, my door is usually open. And even if he’s home, I’m sure I could figure somethin’ out.”

“I’d hate to-”

“You don’t gotta decide anythin’ now. Just know the offers on the table.” Arthur looked away, biting back words. His brow was furrowed, and you could see the strain in his jaw. “Arthur?”

“You’re too kind.”

“It’s really not a bother-”

“No, you’re too kind.” His worried eyes locked onto yours. “This world is vicious, the life I live is vicious. It ruins people like you, good people. I’m… I’m afraid of you gettin’ caught up in all this. All the runnin’, the distrust, the bloodshed. I don’t wanna see it change you. I don’t wanna change you.”

“I know this world is viscous. I may not see it first-hand like you do, but I know. But isn’t that why I shouldn’t try to be kind, as naive as I might sound to say? And sure, it might come back to bite me, but isn’t it rewarding just to try?” You took a breath. “This world has already tried its hardest to change me, Arthur. It has tried to make me cold, to make me cruel, to make me uncaring. But I simply won’t let it, which I know is easier said than done. But every time I think it might just be easier to turn a cold shoulder, to ignore the problems of others, I remind myself that if I were in their shoes, I’d want someone to extend a hand out to me.”

Arthur was silent for a good while, mulling over your words. “I try to help when I can,” he began. “I really do try. But it seems like for every good deed I do, ten bad ones take its place. Every good thing I do pales in comparison to all the robbin’, the stealin’, the killin’. And it tears me up inside, the… the guilt.”

“Then why do you continue to do it?” You asked, no judgment in your voice. 

“‘Cause it’s the only thing I know how to do. It’s the only way I know to provide a life for those I care ‘bout. Acts of kindness don’t pay nearly as well as a robbery.”

“As much as I hate to agree, you’re not wrong. You’ve gotta do what you gotta to survive, and I don’t think anyone can fault you for that. And you shouldn’t feel too guilty; you steal from people who deserve it, right?”

“We’re gonna be stealin’ from you, darlin’. Are you sayin’ you deserve it?”

“Maybe not me, but Hans sure as hell does.”

“Damn right,” Arthur muttered, almost too low for you to catch. But there was still an inkling of guilt on his face.

“Besides, we’ve got so much money, so much that I don’t know what to do with it. It’s like I said before, as long as he doesn’t stop helpin’ my family, you can get as much as you can from him.”

“Have you written to them? Your family?” Arthur asked, wanting to shift the conversation away from him. You’d let him, for now. 

“I sent them a letter yesterday. But I realize now that I’ve got no way of receivin’ their letters.”

“You send it in your name?” You nodded. “I’ll try to stop by, grab ‘em for ya.”

“Aren’t you wanted in Rhodes?” 

Arthur shrugged. “It’ll die down over the next week or so, which should be enough time.”

“You’re gonna do it no matter what I say, ain’t you.” The responding grin told you all that you needed to know. “Thank you, Arthur.”

He waved off your thanks, and the two of you continued your breakfast before it turned colder. You tried to stand and grab both of your bowls when you finished, but Arthur was having none of it. Ushering you back down, he took the bowls into the kitchen himself, even go so far as to wash them for you. Unsure of what to do with yourself now, you made your way to the living room, sitting on one of the couches as you waited for him to return. 

You spotted his hat out of the corner of your eye, and before you could stop yourself you picked it up, examining it in your hands. It hadn’t changed much since the first time you saw it or the time after that. Maybe there was a new scratch or nick here and there, but you didn’t see them. All you saw was a well-loved hat with more stories than you could imagine. 

You glanced up when you saw Arthur approaching, and you flashed him a grateful look. There was a regretful look on his face, and you knew exactly what was about to happen next. “You have to go, don’t you.”

“I’m sorry-”

“None of that, Arthur,” you shook your head, smiling lightly. “As much as I’d love for you to spend the rest of the day here, you’ve got responsibilities, and you’ve got people who need you. I get it.” You stood now, making your way over to him, his hat still in your hands. “Just come back, alright?”

“I’ll come back, darlin’.”

“You better mean it this time.”

“I promise.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I will get Javier or someone to drag you back.”

Two hands gently grasped the sides of your face, drawing all your attention to him. “I swear,” he rested his head against yours, sighing deeply. 

You’re not sure who moved first, your lips colliding in a gentle kiss that sealed the promise he just uttered. You hoped that would be enough to push the thoughts from his brain that fed him the misconceptions that drove him away. 

“I’ll see you soon, either here or at the party,” you said when you broke apart. 

“I’ll see you soon,” he repeated, his hands dropping from your face. Before he could take a step back, you planted his hat on his head, pressing one last kiss to his cheek. With a fond look, he backed up to the entranceway, slipping on his boots with visible apprehension, not wanting this visit to end either. 

You followed him out the door, but before he descended the stairs he hesitated, looking back at you. Before you could even register he was in front of you, kissing you deeply. You let out a surprised noise, before melting into his embrace, your hands grasping his still partially unbuttoned shirt. 

But then he was leaving again, with an almost hurried gait, as if he feared if he lingered he’d never leave. You stood on the porch, slightly stunned as Arthur whistled for Bear, who came trotting out of the woods looking quite irritated at his owner. That irritation melted when he heard you call out his name, his ear flickering happily. Arthur had to stop him from coming over to you, an amused smile on his face when he turned to you. “I swear, he likes ya more than me.”

You chuckled as Arthur got atop Bear, and it took no encouragement to bring Bear closer to you. It took a little bit of stretching, but you managed to stroke his snout lightly, earning a nicker in response. After petting him for a few moments, you glanced up at his rider, a soft smile on his face. 

Words hung on the tip of your tongue, the ones you’d let slip so freely last night. Would it be too soon for you to say it again? Would it make him uncomfortable? Would it hurt you, saying them, knowing he couldn’t say it back?

Arthur watched you, almost expectantly, and you couldn’t help yourself from uttering the words. You just needed him to hear it again. 

You swore you saw something like relief on his face, only there for a fraction of a second. With slightly rose-tinged cheeks, he ducked his head, his hat covering his face from you.

“Now, get outta here Arthur,” you teased, breaking the tension. It seemed to do the trick, and you watched as Arthur began to back up. “Goodbye, for now.”

“Goodbye, for now,” he repeated with the same infliction. With one final glance, he was gone, the trees almost curling around him as he went up the trail leading to the main road. With a thumping heart, you made your way back inside, ungracefully flopping down on the couch, a sigh of disbelief leaving you.

That sigh turned into light chuckling, which turned into giddy laughter, the sore muscles in your body complaining as you laughed. Like before, you were just so happy that it threatened to overwhelm you, and you needed some way to let it out. It only took a few seconds until it died down, and you let yourself just relax, a new thought making a bittersweet smile appear. 

You’d missed what being truly happy felt like. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

It had taken some time, but you eventually peeled yourself off the couch. You had almost gone straight upstairs, but the newspaper on the kitchen table made you stop. You realized that Hans probably had no idea about Arthur’s involvement in Rhodes, and if the job with him was to go smoothly, then he needed to remain unaware.

Taking the paper upstairs, it rolled it up and tucked it into the lockbox, the thing barely fitting in there. Eventually, though, you were able to get it tucked back under the bed.

The room felt a lot more dead now that Arthur wasn’t around. The sheets were cold and lonesome, and as you laid down on the bed you could still smell him, all gunpowder and tobacco and leather. As sad as it made you, you also realized now that you probably needed to clean said bedsheets before Hans got home. 

Before letting yourself get lulled into a doze by the familiar smell, you got up, opening the two windows in the room to try and air it out. It took a bit of time, but you eventually gathered up all the sheets, pillowcases, and blankets on the bed, as well as the washcloths from the 

Your body hated the exertion, and it took an hour or two, but you eventually had everything on the clothesline. It did go by quickly, though, with your memories still flooded with the man that had occupied those sheets hours ago, a light smile on your face as you worked.  

Going into it, you knew that it was going to take over a day for everything to dry completely, but you were fine with that. That night, you grabbed a spare blanket from the closet, and you slept on the couch. It was uncomfortable and just irritated your sore muscles more, but you couldn’t bring yourself to lay in the bed, the other side barren. 

It was going to be hard to try and sleep without Arthur.

[chaostroberry1]

Yandere!apollo

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5 stages of obssession

• Honestly, you were just a nobody to him. Just another admirer who worshipped the ground he walked on.

• He never payed you any mind. For some reason, he was always so grossed out by you.

• it could be for little things like maybe some pimples, or blackheads on your face. If you had hairy legs or just hairy in general, he'd take note of that. If you had weird teeth, he'd see that too. If you had bad breath or maybe your body was odd, he'd list these as things that gave him the ick. (💀)

• All those little things slowly piled up to him, making him aware that you just weren't who he liked approaching, and you knew that the hard way.

• He'd just glance at you when you happily talked to him, and he'd ignore you, the moment you finish speaking he'd immediately go back to talking to the other fellow nymphs who he thinks deserve his time more.

• you understood, judging from how whenever you tried approaching him or complementing him, he'd always have a resting b*tch face(no offence), only staring then darting his eyes somewhere else to avoid looking at you. Responding with a "yeah...is that all...?"

• It broke your heart to see the difference between the way he treated you, and others, which led you to accept it and stayed as the odd one out.

• throughout your time with him, you'd always notice how differently you were treated. Whenever he had something to offer the ladies, you'd often be left with nothing, given the excuse that there wasn't enough for everybody. Odd, seeing everyone else had received something from him.

• You decided to let go. And finally stopped approaching him. Rather, you started treating him like a normal person.

Stage 1

• He did eventually start noticing this, he's not that blind. hed notice the nymphs would be lacking someone. Though the man had a big ego, he still subconsciously memorizes his admirers without realizing it.

• And as I've said, he payed no mind. He still has other people waiting in line for him. You weren't anything special.

• But slowly enough, the random thoughts of you would randomly pop up in his head whenever he's speaking with the others around him, and he just couldn't understand why.

• At first, he'd just shake them off. But now, whenever there's a big crowd of admirers surrounding him and drooling over him, the god couldn't help but scan the crowd, to see if you were there.

• these little acts and thoughts were harmless at first, but they started getting weirder for him.

• Whenever he spotted you, his eyes would always remain where they were. If you noticed him, you'd smile and wave, and it would strike an arrow to his heart.

• What feeling was this?

• He really really started looking forward to seeing you, the littlest interactions he'd have with you would repeat in his head over and over again for the rest of the day.

• It didn't take long before he realized it was love that he felt....

A sick type of love.

• After coming to that realization, his thoughts would start taking over him and his body, controlling every thought in process.

________________________________________

Stage 2

• He'd sometimes be stuck thinking about pounding your helpless little pussy the whole day.

• Never fails to have blood rush down in his cock just from thinking about you. And it had him desperate.

• He'd often pick out nymphs who had small resemblances to you, for him to sleep with.

• A nymph with your hair? On the bed. Your eyes? Count him in. Your skin color? Up in the sheets. He was so so desperate for you.

• All of the women or men he met were not even close to being as good as you. To him at least.

• That's why whenever he sleeps with anyone, he'd just imagine it was you that he layed with.

• You can absolutely bet that this man would have his eyes all over you. That's probably the reason you always feel shivers whenever you do something.

• He'll slowly walk back into your life, and force himself inside your head.

• He will, and I mean absolutely WILL take you back for himself. There won't be anyone to stop him since most of the gods there would rather mind their own business than get involved.

Stage 3

• Deffo flirts with you at any given moment.

• He takes every chance to touch you, or get in your personal space. It could be by resting his chin on your shoulder, touching leg to leg with you, anything.

• I just know his cock is always left throbbing whenever he finishes an artpiece of you. He loves staring at all of them.

"My pretty darling.."

• He gets incredibly pissed when someone gives you something, or interacts with you.

"who do you have there, darling?"

• He fantasizes a lot of just breeding you and fucking you dumb. Pumping cum inside you and starting a small little family with you.

• He wanted to make those thoughts a reality.

• Which is why he'd start spending more time with you, and getting to know you a bit better.

• If you ever have any close friends, don't go on wondering why they've disappeared all of a sudden, just leave things to him. You don't need your friends anyway...you only need him.

• He really wants you back in the crowd, so that his eyes have something nice to look at whenever he's getting bored.

"Darling, why didn't you come see me with the other ladies? I was really looking forward to seeing you there."

• If you are somewhere near him and there's still admirers surrounding him, he'd wink at you or blow a kiss? (Things charmers do idk) It sucks to admit, but it never fails to leave you a little flustered.

• He likes to drag you with him to baths, saying that it was just a 'friendly' hangout since he didn't get to see you often. Plus, who even are you to deny a god?

• This man has absolutely no shame in just getting up from the water, letting you see that thing in between his legs.

• He he found it cute when you'd cover your eyes in respect. Soon...he can show you without you covering your eyes anymore...but he has to wait.

• He will absolutely buddy-buddy with you, or that's what you'd rather call it. In the bath, he always has his arm around you, talking about his day, sometimes, he likes to get incredibly touchy.

• Really loves letting you feel his body, as said before, man has no shame. Your hands would be forced into touching his bare chest, or his hands would be caressing you in some way.

_______________________________________

Stage 4

• Once he finally earns your trust, he'll have you as his. Forever...and he doesn't plan on letting you go.

• He always brings you with him as if you were his pet, and gets irritated when you refuse.

• he has upset you multiple times, but he does know how to make up for it. This man is known as a charmer after all.

"Come on sweetheart, look at me...don't you see how much I love you?"

_______________________________________

Stage 5

• He's very possessive and expects you to put him first as number one priority.

• No more friends or family if you have any, because you are all his.

• If you do have friends and family, he will immediately go and introduce himself as your lover.

• Since he knows how to capture the hearts of others, your friends or family will absolutely adore him.

• He knows how to manipulate them into becoming potential allies. By making sure they hear him speak about how much he loved you and everything he's done for you.

• Of course all of that is true, but why not spread the word?

• He will slowly isolate you from other people, not a glance, or conversation with you unless he allows it.

• He really likes to fuck you, any moment of the day he'd get really touchy and clingy, which tells that he wants to breed as soon as possible.

• You have ran away once and went into hiding, which got him into a frenzy, but sadly for you. Someone had snitched and told him.

• You stayed hidden for a few days, before someone knocked on your door. Turns out it was apollo.

• Really showed you punishment after that.

"don't go off making me worry like that, darling. I won't let it slide next time..okay?"

• Gifts and all, he will absolutely give them to you.

•If you ever returned his love, he'd be love-struck. He's all yours.

• He is incredibly passionate and sweet whenever it comes to you, as long as you don't test his patience.

• So it'll be fine, he's a good lover if you just agree to what he wants.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

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I KNOW ITS NOT THE BEST OK 🙃

But like I really needed to get this off my system cus I've has this stuck in my drsfts after writing this at around 3 am☠️☠️ I was gonna go for a yandere apollo/hades/poseidon cheater, but I think I'll do that later.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed!!

● ●●●●●●●●●●☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆●●●●●●●●●●● ●

[sparklingblu]

Atonement

Giselle x Male Reader

TW: blood, choking(not the hot kind), death, self harm, a lot of dark stuff

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth"

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

The moment these sinful word leaves Giselle's lips, you realize you have fallen right into her trap. And without a doubt, Giselle is aware of it. You can see it from the way the corner of her lips twitch like she's trying desperately not to mock at your loss for words, the way her eyes bore into yours as if challenging you to give the answer that have been on your mind for far too long. She tilts her head, urging you to response.

But even if you don't, she would have already known the answer. Anyone would. Giselle, the perfect example of teenage royalty. Giselle, who can make any men bow down before her with a flick of her finger. Giselle, who always act like she owns the world. And that's not so far from the truth. The world doesn't revolve around Giselle. The entire solar system does.

And she has every right to act that way. Money? Popularity? Charisma? There isn't anything Giselle can't check off on that list. Her parents being the main contributor to the university's funds, she's practically untouchable here. A goddess, you may even say. That's not a metaphor, because metaphors are a figure of speech. And Giselle is a long way off from it.

She has the type of aura that can turn heads wherever she lays her feet on. A vixen. A siren who pulls men in to their deepest, darkest fantasies they have never even realize existed till they have seen her. The worst thing? She takes pleasure in it. The thought that these men will fantasize about her, giving in to their carnal desires that she has awakened just by being in their presence. The amount of sperm that will be wasted on thoughts of her and her only before they are even given life. All those reminds her that she's Giselle. The untouchable. The unbothered.

If you start thinking you can beat Giselle in at least some aspect, think again. Because that will be your last thought before she shows you she's on the top of the food chain. What you are good at, she does it better. If not, she will make sure you are no longer good at it. Because she's Giselle.

People might ask, if she is that ruthless, wouldn't she be hated? Wouldn't she be an outcast? It's the total opposite. Her twisted and cryptic demeanor is what lures people into her dungeon, hoping to find a way through, hoping to get to her core, to get even the slightest idea of who she really is beneath these layers of her indifference, only to end up as another victim that has fallen to her arctic charm.

No one would be stupid enough not to recognize her deadly allure. The poisoned apple. The evidences lie all around them. Men, who would trade their soul just to have a chance with her. Women, who would die to be her. And in some cases, to be both. Yet, they follow the footsteps of those before them. Because she's that irresistible. A living embodiment of lust and pride. Tempting and tempting until you give in and take a bite of that forbidden fruit.

And you are not so far off from becoming one of them. With every passing second, it gets harder not to lay your eyes on Giselle. She has your undivided attention like an insect caught in a spiderweb.

You try averting your eyes to the far far wall, anywhere you will be freed of Giselle's pull, only to be greeted by the maniacal smile of the human skull, grinning like crazy, as if saying "You can't escape from her. Not now, not then"

You shouldn't have even come to this Halloween party in the first place. This whole night have been nothing but a mistake. You should have stayed in your room and finished up your assignment like you first intended to. Halloween is nothing but an excuse for people to get wasted and imitated things they aren't without the judgement from society for one single night. It should have dawned on you back then. You don't even have a costume. What do you want to dress as? You have no idea. A mummy? A wizard? A vampire? A fucking vampire. Out of all the cheesy options of pop culture icons, you have to choose the cheesiest one. With a trench coat a friend of yours borrowed, your swept back hair and your fake fangs, you looked like a handed down Edward Cullen.

Nevertheless, your desperation to fit in: to talk to real people rather than strangers online, ultimately lead you to your despair. Saying the party is lively would be an understatement. It has surpassed liveliness, it has a life of its own. People poured into Giselle's dorm, The Coven, from every direction. The eerie tunes of Halloween carols and artificial screams filled the air, which are farther complemented by the paper bats that hang from the ceiling an the fog machines hissing in the corner. On the dance floor, students move in hypnotic synchrony, their costume ranging from classic monsters to familiar icons you see everywhere. Bodies entwining and intertwining beneath the luminous glow of the string lights that scatter the ceiling.

Being the loner you are, the first thing you do when you arrive is look for someone you know. Anyone who can help you in the quest not to be the odd one out. You sigh in relief when you see one of the familiar face near a drink table, which is exceptional just like everything in this party. A champagne tower stands on the far end, which you are surprised someone wasted has not knocked it down yet. All across the length of the table lies buckets holding different type of bottles, a different kind of magic in each one. And if you are not a drinker, worry not because an ice bucket full of every known fizzy drink known to man is just up for grabs in one corner. Everything is designed to fit anyone's need. Only a fool would not give a second glance to this playground for taste buds.

And you are no fool, so you grab a glass of champagne and head to where your friend is, if you can call someone a friend after talking to them once during a lecture. He's cosplaying Pennywise but with his crumpled jumpsuit and the white makeup which is horribly done, he looks more like a circuit clown who just got fired. You don't expect him to recognize you but much to your surprise, he does. Offering a hand to shake, he says his formal greetings.

"This party is probably the best one I have ever been to" he says in awe. "I heard Giselle organize all of this, must be nice to have your parents paying your bill"

Hinting the envy and jealousy in his voice, you don't blame him. Because it's Giselle you are talking about. There's no one else here who can turn a party into a masterpiece. You should be thankful you got to be a part of it regardless if her parents pay for this or not.

So, you just nod in agreement and change the topic. After a while, you realize listening to a heartbroken guy/clown talking about his exes is not exactly the best thing to do at a party like this. This is not a chance you get everyday and you are not going to let it go to waste by tragedies.

"Excuse me for a moment" you cut him off, chug down rest of your champagne and wander farther. If the party was lively before, now it's on full swing. The dancing has escalated to make out sessions among some of the couples, fueled by the heat of the moment. Much to your disgust, a pool of vomit litters a spot on the floor, the work of someone who have had too much to drink. As you tear through the sea of people, either horny or drunk, you start to wonder if the whole university have been confined into one large mass of bodies here tonight. You bump into Frankenstein, nearly get knocked out by a drunk Darth Vader and hear a curse (not that kind of curse) from a Harry Potter , who's probably high.

You have already failed your initial plan to socialize, there's no way you can make conversation with these people who have transcended to the peak of bliss. Dancing is an option, if it isn't for the fact that you are a horrible dancer and your moves will be worse than those drunkards wilding without a care in the world.

Part of you want to leave, this place is starting to suffocate you with the stench of bodies that cover every inch of this hall, the euphoric faces that appear and disappear with each flash of the lights overhead and the worst of all, the make out sessions happening at any spot you lay your eyes on.

It's such an absurd idea to feel disturbed by the sight of lips against lips, tongues entwined with tongues. Afterall, it's just one of the many ways humans express their desires, the need to touch, to be touched. Yet, combined with this vague atmosphere of the party, the act becomes unbearably explicit.

You feel like a fool for seeing it this way but whatever this party is composed of, it's starting to affect you. What seems like a glamorous spree looks like a maze of skin and more skins to you now. The music, once perfectly fitted with the event, sounds like a broken symphony.

What you should do is indulge yourself in this moment. Just become one of the bodies that make up this sea of bodies. But regardless, you have to turn the whole thing into an illusion of madness and badness. Just to make an excuse to leave this damn place. Just because you don't want to admit you are never mean to be at social events.

And you would have lied to yourself and leave, if it isn't for the music that suddenly dies and the lights that dissolve into shadows. Apart from a few gasps that slip out, the entire room goes dead silent, save for the white noise of a humming fan in the background.

Your impulsive thoughts take this as a sign to re enter your mind. Is that it? Has the party ended? Maybe something went wrong with the electronics? Just more excuse to make yourself believe you don't leave this party because you wanted to. It has to be something else.

Thankfully, you are too caught in the abrupt halt that you are more curious to see what will happen next rather than act on your impulses. For a few seconds, the room remain still, swallowed by darkness. It seems to go on forever until light showered on a spot at the top of the spiral staircase, descending from one corner of the hall. Another glow pierce the gloom then another, until the whole staircase has been light up.

With the radiance that contrast the staircase and the rest of the room, it looks like a stairway straight from heaven, materializing only for the divine. But the one who descends from those steps is anything but divine. Depraved is too weak of a word to describe her.

Down from the stairs comes the queen herself, Giselle, with the faintest clue of a smile on her lips and her eyes, scanning the crowd the way a queen would do to her subjects. No one complains because everyone here is in debt to her. If it's not for Giselle, they will never achieve the felicity of this night, that they have happily surrendered to, unknowingly becoming just one of Giselle's pawns. And you are not excluded.

Giselle isn't wearing a costume, she's just in a different layer of skin. Why would she try to be someone else when she's already Giselle? If the darkness has been eliminated by the light, it is soon going to be reabsorbed by Giselle, whose entire frame is coated in a layer of black sheath dress. The long sleeves of her attire leave no room for skin except the opening at her collar bones, displaying her radiant milky skin. A stygian veil loom over her long hair that falls on either side, as if she's an Oracle going to mutter a prophecy at any moment. Nothing about the outfit makes Giselle stand out more. At a glance, another pretty girl of your fantasies. However, her eyes tell a different story. These pools of cerulean blue that pull anyone who dare to stare right into them like a tide, gripping their core, leaving them breathless.

She's too pretty to be human, you think. Maybe she isn't. Maybe she's send from the higher powers to test the homo sapiens of their real nature, to expose their deepest desires. If that's the case, everyone had already failed ,evident by the way their eyes follow her with each step she takes.

Giselle stops right in the middle step, regarding the horde of flesh stunned by her appearance.

"I'm sure you are having a blast" Giselle speaks, though her voice isn't thundering, it cuts through the crowd like ripples.

Everyone cheers, a cluster of voices competing to be heard. When the silence returns, Giselle speaks again.

"Let go of your worries tonight! Drink! Dance! Get wasted! Party like there's no tomorrow!"

Anther roar erupt from the crowd. A handful of people start dancing without music, overwhelmed with bliss. This time the noise don't cease, chatters of conversation amplify until the whole room is bustling with activity again, even with the lights gone.

A shrill like nail scratching on metal shrieked from the sound boxes, causing everyone to cover their ears, shutting their mouth. When the crowd is silent again, Giselle's voice appears once more.

"I'm glad to see you all are enjoying yourself but there's one last event of the night to top this entire party. I promised you have never ever experienced anything like this"

The crowd remains hushed, eager to hear the next words Giselle will say. Excited to be even more euphoric than they already are. Giselle, who seems to notice it, smiles with satisfaction. And that's the first time you have seen her truly smile.

The corner of her lips will twitch from time to time but they never bloom into a pure smile, quickly ceased before it's given life. But when she does, you become even more sure that she's not human. When people smile, they mean it as a way to show or act like they are glad, content or happy. But Giselle's smile contains neither of these emotions. It's like a work of art, superficially it's nothing but a bent in the line of her lips. But when it is studied closely, you realize she's not smiling out of pure bliss, but rather the joy she gets from seeing how the others cower before her. How easy it is for her to bend their wills without even trying.

However, your astonishment is short lived as Giselle's face returns back to her neutral expression again to continue her speech.

"Unfortunately, only a chosen few will be given the chance to experience this event. And to give everyone a fair chance, I decide to leave things to luck. Are you ready?"

The crowd agree in unison, anxious with anticipation. A shriek comes out from a girl concerning with someone spilling drink on her dress. But everyone is too focused on what comes next to care.

Giselle reached into her cleavage and pulls out five black roses, how she manages to fit all of them in there, you have no idea. Nevertheless, she raises her hand so that everyone can see the flowers.

"I will throw these roses into the crowd and the five person who manage to acquire them will join me in the event. However, there are rules. No one is allowed to move, shove or try to steal it from the ones who caught it. If anyone breaks these rules, they will be banned from this party. Get it?"

Everyone nods in agreement, though you notice some people secretly trying to shove the person in front of them to be closer to the front. One even acts like they trip just to claim that few extra inches.

"Ready? Here they go"

Giselle launches the roses into the air, which spirals into the crowd, admiring the sight with unblinking eyes. Your position isn't the best. You are not at the far back but you are not in the front either. You are in the center , where the bodies are the most compressing. You barely have any room to move.

But much to your surprise, a rose lands right on your hair and the horde around you turn to you, the envy and spite unfiltered on their faces. That should have been me, they would be thinking. You snatch the rose from your hair, twirling it from the stem.

You are still dazed by what had happened. Getting chosen for an exclusive event of Giselle? You must have used up your whole year of luck. Cheers erupt from the other four who share your fate. The rest of the crowd groan and murmur in disappointment.

"Seems like we have our winners!" Giselle announces, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "For the rest of you, the party will carry on. Enjoy yourself. The chosen ones, follow me up the stairs"

The light flood the hall again. Music starts blasting from the speakers. The party has returned back to its full swing. People departs heading back to carry on what they were doing. Drink, dance or get wasted, like Giselle had quoted.

You look up to the staircase and see Giselle already climbing back up, the other four following her steps. You are amazed to see that the Pennywise guy you talked to earlier is one of them. The other three are females. One dressed like Harley Quinn, the other a hybrid between Ariel and Aquaman, holding a trident and the last one looks like she just cuts up holes in an old blouse and put it on, hoping to look like someone.

Not wanting to be left out, you follow them. The stairway curves into a single door, which surprises you because you expect it to open up onto the upper floor. On the door, a strange symbol is curved. A thin upside down heart, almost identical to a tear drop, but this one have two bumps. Maybe another creepy Halloween decoration.

Without giving it much thought, you follow Giselle inside, who pushes the door open. You are left breathless by the sight before you. There isn't a room beyond the door. It's a whole chamber. A circular space encircled by shelves of books, vials and items you have never seen before. A small creature that looks like a fusion between a snake and a butterfly floats in a flask of green liquid. The other holds the skull of a cat, or so you think. Nearby, a strange liquid bubbles in a cauldron. The mixed smell of wood and rotten meat doesn't help. The one single window have been closed shut so that the only light source is the lamp on a nearby desk. If Giselle set all this up for tonight, she has gone way over the top.

"Welcome to my chamber!" Giselle says, her voice dripping with glee. Her blue eyes seem to hint the oncoming of something big. "Tonight, we are gonna play a special game. And trust me, you have never ever played it before"

From a drawer, Giselle pulls out a thin bottle, identical to the ones that hold wine. But it isn't an ordinary bottle. On the surface, strange symbols are curved, shapes and words of languages you don't understand. Another Halloween prop?

"We are going to play 'Spin the Bottle'!"

Giselle announces but no one replies. This is the special game? A party game every high schooler knows. Maybe the only difference being it's a Halloween themed bottle.

"Oh, I know what you are thinking" Giselle raises an eyebrow. "It's a game everyone knows, right? What's so special about it? Well, you will see"

She reaches into the drawer again and this time, she pulls out two decks of card. One looks freshly bought and the other worn out, the card corners bent. Giselle extend her arms, displaying the decks to the others.

"This is what makes it so special. I'll show you. Sit"

Giselle points to the floor. Seriously? But no one argue and take their places. You sit down, the Pennywise guy on your right and Harley Quinn on your left. Giselle sits right in front of you, Aquaman(or woman) taking her right and Ms. Tattered Clothes on her left. A circle is formed.

"Ehmm.... can you put that away?" Giselle asks Aquawoman, who's still holding her plastic trident. The girl's face lights up with a blush.

"Oh, sorry" she apologizes, quickly shoving her weapon onto a desk.

"Now, I will show you how to play" Giselle sets the bottle earlier in the middle space, putting each of the decks on either side. Everyone's eyes follow her moves intently, dying to know what makes everything so special. "It's very similar to a normal Spin the Bottle. Someone spins the bottle, and when it points to a certain person, they have to kiss, or choose one, Truth or Dare. But there's no kissing here. It's either Truth or Dare. Unlike the original game, you can't just ask or dare someone whatever you want. You have to pick a card" Giselle points to the new batch of cards. "This is the deck of Truth, if someone chooses to be honest, the spinner have to choose a card from here and ask them the question on the card" She points to the other worn out deck. "This is the deck of Fate, the deck for Dare, you can say. Choose a card from here if someone is feeling adventurous" Giselle looks each of you carefully. "Got it?"

You still doubt this game is anything but special. It's still Spin the Bottle with a couple extra items thrown in. There isn't anything that makes it stand out. Still, Giselle seems to think otherwise.

"Why no kissing?" Mr. Pennywise asks, the grin on his face makes him look even more abominable. You are thankful you are beside him so that you won't see his face constantly.

"Because I say so" Giselle says firmly. Again, showing everyone who's in charge.

"Oh...alright" Pennywise replies, disappointed. And you somehow feel glad to see him that way.

"Ok, let's begin. I will start first" Without a warning, Giselle spins the bottle. It rotates and rotates until it finally points at Mr. Pennywise. He grins again and you feel like throwing up.

"Man....if there was only kissing" he groans in disappointment. Giselle's expression remains unwavered.

"Truth or Dare?" she asks, tilting her head.

"I'm shy so...Truth!" he strains his voice on purpose and it's not funny, not at all.

"Very well" Giselle takes the top card on the deck. She raises it to read and you notice a symbol of a scale on the back, representing justice, or in this case, the truth.

"What's your greatest insecurity?" Giselle asks, looking at the guy straight into his eyes.

"Ehm....that's.." Pennywise scratches his head, seemingly baffled by the question. The whole points of insecurities is that you keep them to yourself. No one would spill it in a party game. Or would they?

"I...don't know" he tries for an awkward smile. "I'm always happy with myself so...."

"Is that so?" Giselle's voice is smug, as if she knows he's lying. "What do you think guys?" she asks the others. No one answers except the girl in the torn blouse. "Maybe....?"

"We will see soon" Giselle puts the card back into the deck, shuffling it. "Is your answer final?"

"Yeah, why not?" Pennywise answers, though he looks uneasy. "You are really hyping up this Halloween vibe, huh?"

"Oh, you flatter me. But you should have put your words to good use elsewhere" Giselle sounds almost delighted and the rest of the people in the room shifts uneasily, including you.

For a moment everything was silent. You could have heard your heartbeat if it's not for the popping sounds the boiling cauldron is making. Then it happens. Pennywise starts making sounds like someone have stuffed his throat with a rock. He clutches his neck, trying to scream. But the only sounds that come out are muffled whines like a deer getting run on by a truck, again and again. His eyes start to bulge as if they are going to jump out at any moment. His face white as a sheet of paper.

Everyone stares in shock, yet no one tries to help, too shocked by the scene before them. No one makes a sound except Giselle, who makes a note. "See? That happens when you are not honest"

"Make it stop! He's going to die" Harley Quinn cries, her eyes wide with terror.

"Oh, I'm not doing anything to him. He's being punished for his own mistake, being dishonest" Giselle muses lightly as if someone isn't dying before her.

Pennywise falls to the ground with a loud thud and his body goes limp. Aquawoman and Ms. Tattered Clothes screams. Your breath hitches. You hate this guy but you don't want him to die. Not like this.

"What have you done?" Harley Quinn screams in horror, covering her mouth with her hands.

"Nothing. He dug his own grave" Giselle says with indifference. Her face shows no sign of remorse.

"This game has gone too far! I'm leaving" Harley Quinn screams and stands up, trying to walk away. However, she falls back as if an invisible barrier has been put up. "Let me go!" she cries, tears already flowing down her face.

"Now now" Giselle looks at the girl. "No need to be afraid. You just have to be truthful if you don't want to end up like him. It's that easy. Once the game is over, you can leave"

"Let me go, please...." Harley Quinn pleads but Giselle's eyes are no longer on her. When her begging goes unanswered, the girl sits up, sniffling. The others silent as they were.

All this time, you are staring at the lifeless face of Pennywise. His mouth hangs open in an unfinished scream. The terrors in his eyes accentuating his pale lifeless face that you have no idea how it gets even whiter over his clown makeup. His fingers crooked, trying to cling on something. Anything that will keep him alive.

He's dead, you think. He's really dead. This is no longer another Halloween prop. It's a real corpse. Is Giselle the one who did it? She didn't even lift a finger but isn't she the one who starts this game? Maybe it's the cards. Maybe they are magic.

The sense of pride and joy you had had earlier is gone. This is one deadly game. All you want to do is get out of here as soon as possible. But Harley Quinn had already proved it's not a choice. You must stay here.

"Shall we continue?" Giselle asked, handing the bottle to Harley Quinn, maybe out of pity, if she even feels pitiful.

The girl takes the bottle with shaking hands and before she spins it, Giselle raises a hand. "Oh, wait. We have an inactive member"

You instantly realizes she's talking about the lifeless body beside you. She points to it and asks. "You, Mr. Vampire. Can you shove that body somewhere?" she asks it the way someone would ask for a pencil, without a trace of loath in her voice. Like she's asking you to get rid of a dead fly.

"Yeah..sure" you complies. After seeing what happens to Pennywise and Harley Quinn, you are not feeling rebellious. Giselle isn't the one to mess with. You hold the body up by the arms and drag it to a nearby shelf, propping it.

Suddenly, a thought enters your mind. You are away from Giselle. There's no invisible barrier when you stood up. This is the chance to get away. To get out of this mess that has just begun once and for all. You cast a glance to the door and instantly, Giselle's voice flows through your ears. "Don't even think about it"

Without further words, you return to your initial space, now between Harley Quinn and Aquawoman, who had took the vacant spot.

"Let's begin" Giselle orders and Harley Quinn spins the bottle without hesitation. It whirls and whirls, finally slowing down before you.......no, it's Aquawoman.

"Truth or...Dare?" Harley Quinn asks, her voice still shaky from crying earlier. For a moment, Aquawoman is silent. Then she makes her choice. "Dare"

"Oh...this one is feeling adventurous" Giselle compliments. Her eyes fixed on the girl so intently it looks like she's going to burn a hole through her.

Harley Queen picks up the card from the old deck. The symbol on the back of this card is a scythe, a symbol for punishment? Not really a good idea. She gulps after seeing what's written on the card. "You....you have to..." she stutters.

"Say it dear" Giselle urges. "Say the words"

"You have to paint your name....with your....your...blood..." Her words thin to a whisper at the end.

Aquawoman looks like all the blood in her body have been sucked out. "What..?" she asks, although there isn't a need. The instructions are clear.

"You heard her, dear. You have to write your name in your own blood. Doesn't it sound fun?" Giselle asks. If she's trying to be funny, now is not the time.

"I can't......please ask me to do anything. Not this...please, I beg you" Aquawoman begs but Giselle simply shrugs her shoulders.

"You have to do what yo are asked. Or else, you see what happened to Mr. no insecurities. You want to follow him?" Giselle's words seem to snap the girl back to her senses, though nothing about this makes sense.

"How do I do it?" she asks. Her voice so small you have to focus on every words.

"Simple" Giselle stands, takes a dagger from a drawer and hands it to her. "Paint it on the floor right in front of you. By the way what's your name?"

The girl swallows. "Penelope" Not a good time to have an eight letter names, you think. You wonder if her blood is enough. There are nearly six liters of blood in a human body but even if less than half of it is lost....You shut your train of thoughts. Not another corpse. It can't happen.

Aquawoman takes the dagger with trembling hands and sits down, staring at it as if it's a foreign object. Slowly, she pulls up the sleeve, raising it to her forearm, setting the edge on her flesh. It sinks in and a trail of blood starts to pour from the opening. Grimacing, she collects it with her forefinger and writes the first letter on the floor, P. But it isn't enough as half of the letter only formed.

The girl sinks the blade deeper, her lips pursed, trying to seal away a scream. More blood pours. The first letter is completed. You watch the gruesome scene as the girl paints her name. E, then N, after that L. Halfway but she's already trembling. Her whole arm is soaked with blood.

Giselle watches it with a hint of amusement in her eyes. Now you know what's beneath that cold face everyone tries to decipher. It's a sick, twisted mind. Ruined beyond repair. And she likes it that way.

"I can't do this anymore..." Aquawoman mutters in a hoarse voice, setting the dagger down. "It hurt so much"

"Just use your other arm" Giselle advices. "You are nearly there"

"But...." the girl reconsiders and takes the dagger with her bloody hand, raising it to cut another opening in her other arms. She slices and more blood flows. More paint.

The girl continues painting, her temples beaded with sweat. If her eyes can speak, they are screaming for help. The name gets completed one word after another. O, P, then she stops.

"Please......it...it hurts....I'm nearly done, please...can I.." she pleads and begs. Her hands trembling, both covered in red.

"One last letter" Giselle muses. "Complete it"

"I can't....please...?" she asks for mercy. But Giselle isn't known for being merciful.

"Are you saying you can't do it?" Giselle insists.

"No...no....but I can't-" She drops her dagger and stumbles forward, propping herself on her palms. She has lost too much blood.

"Very well then" Giselle says, her expression solemn.

"I...I don't want to.." The girl can no longer speaks. Not because she is choking. But because blood starts to pour from her eyes. A waterfall of blood, enough to write her names a hundred times. You back away in disgust, a few drops staining your coat. The other two cover their eyes, unable to comprehend the horror of the scene. Gisell watches the never ending flow of blood with interest. Not even caring the droplets hitting her dress.

"What a pity, she was so promising" Giselle sighs as the body lands on the floor with a loud thud. "Another one eliminated. Mr. Vampire, would you be so kind to..?" She points it a the corpse. Damn this, why does everyone around you have to die? Without complaint, you grab her from the waist, the only part unstained with her blood and put her next to Pennywise.

Two down. Two corpses. Who's next? You should have left when you had the chance. You should have continue being the loner you are. Stay in your room and spend Halloween watching Dracula. At least it won't be real. At least you won't die. Your desperation have lead you to your demise. There's no way out of here.

Regardless, this game that's nothing but sick must go on. Because Giselle says so. All of you are nothing but pawns on her chessboard. Disposable. Weak.

You expect Giselle to take the spot next to you but instead, Harley Quinn takes it. Giselle is still right in front of you. Those pools of blue still piercing into your soul, inch by inch. Now the circle, or rather a rhombus, consists only of four.

No one complains. They have already seen two examples. No one's eager to become another. The bottle is now in the hands of Ms. Tattered clothes, who stares at it like it's an explosive. You have no idea about the order the bottle is being passed. But it just one of the many thing that doesn't make any sense.

The bottle spins, pointing directly across from the spinner, at Harley Quinn.

"Truth or Dare?" This question, these words that have reaped two souls.

"Truth" Harley Queen makes her choice, at least she won't be cutting her vessels open. That's not exactly a reassuring thought. You have no idea about the other questions in that deck.

A card is pulled. The question is read.

"If someone here is to die, who do you wish it is?"

A simple question, yet the answer a double pointed sword. You know her answer because you would have answered the same. It's 'Giselle'. If she's dead, you all can leave. You all can stop playing this deadly game. But if the truth is spoken, who knows what Giselle will do?

"It's..eh..." Harley Queen stutters, debating with herself. Tell the truth, she risks facing Giselle's wrath. Lie, she dies. Neither's a good choice.

"It's ok dear, speak your mind" Giselle encourages. She pulls her veil farther below and the shadows it cast pale the blue of her eyes. Yet, they are as intent as ever.

"You" Harley Quinn makes her decision. She lowers her head like she's scared of what comes next.

"Eh....honest..." Giselle muses, a faint smile forming on her lips, the exotic kind. "Your courage is admirable, dear. The truth is good. But sometimes, it must be twisted to fit the situation. Afterall, the Truth is bitter"

Giselle smiles and again you are baffled by its arcane amidst the chaos. You would have forgotten you are on the verge of dying had she not sheathed it.

"I'm sorry dear. Such honesty should be rewarded but this time the stakes are high" Giselle sighs, blowing air.

"This is unfair! I spoke the truth! I'm going to die either way, why are you doing this?" Harley Quinn bellows in rage. Her face so red you think it's going to explode.

"You are correct. Lie or Truth, both leads to the same end. But I'm doing this because I find it fun. Because I can" Giselle admits and you have no doubt that she is ,in fact, enjoying this. Her smile had said it all.

"You can't do this! If others know..." her words are cut short by the flames that engulf her. You back away in shock. Thankfully, you don't get to move another corpse as the flames consumes everything in one swift blast. Ash, the remnants of what was once human rain to the floor.

"She talked too much. It's a good thing she went quick" Giselle says lazily. This dead seems to be the least interesting to her.

The nature of the game has become obvious. Truth or Dare, you die either way. It's inevitable. Everyone here must meet their end to satisfy Giselle's hunger. But of course, the game must go on.

"Your turn, pretty boy" Giselle says, handing you the bottle. You take it. Even before spinning, you already know who it's gonna land on. And of course, it does. The deadly little container point rights towards Ms. Tattered Clothes. Another vicitm. The second last.

"Truth or Dare?" You say the three deadly words.

The girl is silent, seemingly struggling to say the right words. Except that there isn't one. Her whole face is frozen in fear, staring into space.

"Hurry up, dear" Giselle says. "We don't have all night"

The girl raises her head to look at Giselle, pleading with her eyes.

"I don't want to die. Please....I will do anything..." she cowers before Giselle, begging for her life. Giselle seeems amused at the fragile creature bowing before her. The idea of having someone's life to do as she wishes filling her with delight.

"Now, don't be scared. Nothing lasts forever afterall. The least you can do is make a choice. Truth or Dare?" Giselle repeats your question.

"I...I'm..." The girl sits back up, realizing there's no way to escape. "Truth"

Giselle looks at you and you pull a card from the deck of Truth. You flip the card to the other side, only to be greeted by a strange sight. The other side of the card is blank. No letters or questions, just a white space.

"What's the meaning of this?" you asks, showing the card to Giselle.

"Oh dear, I'm really sorry" Giselle says with false compassion. "Seems like you have landed on the empty card, which means there's no questions for you to answer"

"What do you...mean?" the girl insists. "This must be a mistake, maybe he can pull another card"

"That would be against the rules" Giselle set the card down in front of the girl. "And I like to follow them"

"So what? If I didn't answer, I wouldn't be lying right? That means I won't be punished" The girl insists once more. And in a sense, what she says make sense. How could she lie if there isn't even a question?

"You are not wrong" Giselle replies. "But it also means you wouldn't be telling the truth either. And that would be lying"

"That makes no fucking sense!" The girl screams, letting her anger gets the best of her. "You are just finding an excuse to kill people!"

"I thought you already know" Giselle sighs. "You are a slow one"

The girl turns to you. "Please, help me. You are going to die too, you know that right? Maybe if both of us can-"

And then she is no more. Her whole body dissolves into a whirlwind of colors which gets sucked in to the blank page of the card like a vortex.

"A shame" Giselle puts the card back into the deck. "Seems like it's just us now"

You have never thought much thought to what happens after death. But now, you start wondering if you have done enough good to get into Heaven. You surely haven't done anything catastrophic but you haven't accomplished anything remarkable either. You just have to hope the good outweights the bad. Because soon, you will be nothing more than another soul reaped for Giselle's amusement.

What was left of Giselle's facade as the perfect human being has gone. She's anything but that. A demon that indulges herself in the suffering of others. Plucking a life after another like fruits.

Giselle takes the bottle. "My turn" she muses, her voice eager to conclude the act. You being the one to close it out.

The bottle doesn't need to be spinned. The result is clear as day. Giselle does it anyway. The compass of death spins and spins, inevitably pointing towards you.

"Truth or Dare?" The last question for this night, the last question you will hear.

"Truth" you reply, surprised at yourself for how quick your respone is. Have you accepted your end?

"If you have the choice to fuck anyone in this room, who would it be?"

Giselle asks, not pulling a card from the deck. Doesn't it break the rules? No, Giselle makes the rules.

The question seems so odd compared to the others you have heard tonight. The other ones are designed either to force you to lie or mix you up so thoroughly you can't answer. But this question? The answer is simple but not without risk. Giselle, the only other human being here, the sole female, that's the answer, the truth. But you don't want to go up in flames like Harley Quinn did nor you want to choke to death like Pennywise. There isn't a way out. You accept your fate.

"You" you answer. "I would do it with you"

Giselle's face shows no emotion. Her eyes staring into yours, unblinking. You start repenting the sins you might have done. Sooner or later, you would end in a horrible way.

"I think so" Giselle finally speaks. She pulls down her veil to let her hair fall freely around her shoulder. Without it, she looks even more sinister. A wolf in sheep skin.

"End me already" you requests. "Let's finish this"

Giselle chuckles. The voice that comes out is frozen, like she hasn't laughed in a millennia and she's just trying again right now.

"What a brave man" Giselle praises. "But you won't escape me that easily. What you will face is worse than death"

You curse under your breath. Death is not the ideal option but at least it will release you. Now, that chance has went up in smoke.

"Lie down" Giselle orders.

"Why?" You questions. If you are not going to die, at least you want to know what you will be facing.

"Lie down" she repeats. Knowing there's no point in defying her, you obliges. Giselle walks up to you, setting a foot on your chest, looming over you. She smirks and that's when you get a crazy thought. The others were lucky. At least they escape this in a way. You wouldn't.

"Good boy" she compliments. You feel a sense of joy despite the state you are in. It feels so wrong. "Lose your fangs, I don't want you to bite"

You pull of the fake fangs from your mouth. Though you still looks like a sleep deprived vampire with the rest of your attire.

Giselle pulls back her leg, regarding you with her blue eyes like a predator ready to pounce. If she starts skinning you alive, you wouldn't be surprised. However, what she proceeds to do is the exact opposite.

She kneels beside you, her fingers trailing along your chest. The touch left you craving for more. With each movement, she sends a shiver down your spine. At this moment, the only god you will worship is Giselle. You will devote your soul to her if it means she will keep doing this.

Her fingers trail across your chest, down to your waist and then land right on your crotch. She squeezes your clothed mamba, which is already rock hard from her gratifying touch. A smile forms on her lips once more. This time from the joy of seeing how badly you need her.

"Oh, you are already so hard" Giselle mocks and squeezes your dick over the fabric once more. The agony from her harsh grip merges with pleasure and you can no longer distinguish which is which. All you know is you want her to keep doing this. Keep hurting you because with pain, there's pleasure.

"Are you enjoying this?" Giselle gives one final squeeze and let go, leaving you throbbing. You could have cummed from her hands alone if she repeats the motion one more time. Nonetheless, you want her to keep going. To find comfort in the hands of your reaper. The very thought shames you but it gets clouded by a stronger emotion, lust.

Giselle presses her upper body against your chest and you would have put your hands on her waist if it isn't for the fact that she could kill you in a heartbeat. Her black hair streaked with blonde sprawled out on your torso, a curtain of silk. If it isn't enough to drive you wild, the rosy smell of her perfume mixed with the faintest scent of her sweat does the job. Diamond is no longer the hardest material on earth because your cock is already pushing through your pants, trying to escape its boundaries.

Giselle moves further up, lining her face with yours. Under the glow of the lamp, you get the full view of her boobs, which are pushed upward with how hard she's pressing into you. The trench of her cleavage is a dark pit without a bottom, which you will eagerly jump into. Just to get more of her. To indulge in her.

Her fingers move along your ribs, your neck, ending on your face, cupping it, holding it like something tender. "Vampire doesn't suit you, you know?" she asks. Just a simple remark but it deprives you of your common sense. All you feel now is regret. Regret for cosplaying as this stupid creature. Regret for not being good enough for Giselle. "But outfits can be removed, hmm?" Giselle starts unbuttoning your shirt and in this case, literally unbutton. She pulls off the first button. Then the other. Then the other.

A fire has been lit inside you and with each button you lose, the flames rose higher. Giselle's touch is electric and even if it's deadly, you will happily surrender. Because you crave for it too much to care.

Giselle spread open your shirt, the sides parting to reveal your bare chest. She lays a finger and trace it down to your stomach. Her eyes lit up with thrill when they land on your bulge. "Oh, nearly forgot him" Giselle grabs you waistband and pulls it down. Your cock springs up, finally escaping its confinement, throbbing with anticipation.

Giselle holds it from the base and gives it one single pump. And you realize that is all you have needed in life. Your mind is screaming 'Keep going. Don't stop' but you don't utter a single word. Either you are paralyzed from her touch or you don't need to. Because Giselle already knows.

"Look at you, all pumped up. Do I turn you on that much?" She doesn't need to ask. The evident is before her eyes. Another pump. A groan escapes your lips. She smiles. "But it would be unfair if you get your release so quick after everything you went through, hmm?" You want to scream. Tell her to let you cum. In any way. Even her hands are enough. Just let you out of this beautiful prison.

She stands and your dick aches, yearning for her touch again. Giselle stands right above your face, her feet set on either sides of you. You get a glimpse of her pussy. And you swear it's the most perfect thing you have seen.

"How's the view down there?" Giselle asks. "Do you like my pussy?" Yes, you would have answered. Absolutely. But as usual, your vocal cords lose their ability.

"You wanna taste it?" Giselle lifts up the hem of her dress, just enough to expose her full round ass. Skin snowy white just like the rest of her body. "I don't hear an answer"

"Yes..." You manage to utter one single word through the invisible chokehold.

"Very well.." Giselle lowers her ass, taking her rightful throne right on your face. No sooner you feel the pressure than you start licking her pink cavern like there's no tomorrow. Your nose is squashed between her buttocks, cutting off your supply of oxygen. But you don't care. Because this is all you have ever wanted.

"Mhmm yes....just like that" Giselle words encourage you to continue your service to her, treating her like the goddess she is. There is only one goal in you mind at the moment. Make her cum. So that she will praises you. Just one single word would be enough.

So you channel everything you have into your tongue. Slurping her pussy, eating her out. Each time your tongue runs across her velvety flesh, you extract a moan from her. You twirl your tongue on her clit and Giselle tense up, another impure sound betraying her lips.

"God, yes....don't stop..." You don't plan to. Your face is drenched in the juice already spilling out of her and your own spit. This is just a small price to pay to taste the delicacy between her legs. The taste can only be described as otherworldly. Because you are sure there isn't anything that taste like this on earth.

Giselle starts rocking her hips, making your tongue catches up with her pace. She's fucking herself on your tongue, just another object to appease her. Your flesh and blood, all hers. And she will use it as she sees fit.

You hold onto her thighs for support. You are drowning in her elixir, the juice that's suffocating you yet empowers you to keep going. Giselle had said this is worse than death. But maybe it isn't so bad afterall.

However, being deprived of oxygen for so long have its consequences as you start feeling your consciousness slowly drift away, although your tongues move as vigorously as ever. Giselle is still rocking on your face, feeding you the nectar you crave so bad. You are starting to think this is how you will die when a waterfall of the clear liquid pour out of Giselle's cavern, soaking your face whole.

You gasp, your lungs filled with air again after Giselle stop using you as a meat chair. One last drop of her juice falls onto your lips. Instinctively, you lick it up.

" You did well, pretty boy" Giselle praises, her voice hoarse. "You deserve a reward" Those were the sweetest word you have ever heard. She walks slowly back to where your legs lay sprawled on the floor. Sitting down, a hand of hers wrap around the base of your stiff cock. "Miss me?" she asked, giving it a pump. Your body tense from her lethal touch. Giselle takes this as a sign to keep going.

She starts moving her hand up and down, stroking every inch of you. The fire in you burn brighter than ever. Waves after waves of pleasure course through your veins and you drown in them happily. With the other hand, Giselle fondle your balls, giving each one a gentle squeeze. "Look how full they are. Is it because of me, hmm?" Not wanting her to stop, you answer briskly. "Yes, yes...." "I think so" Giselle move her remaining hand from your balls to your shaft, now pumping it with both her hands. There isn't a single inch she misses and from time to time, she would rub your tip with her thumb, delivering extra fatal blows.

All you can do is take in the feeling. But you don't close your eyes because it would be stupid to miss the sight of a goddess giving you a handjob. All it exists in the world for now are Giselle's hands, your cock and the flames inside you that dance wild.

"Are you feeling good? You like my hands, huh?" Giselle asks, picking up the pace even more. This time you are too lost in bliss to answer. Not daring to miss the feeling of one single pump because it could be the last. Giselle is giving you a handjob not because she wants you to feel good. Just like everything else in her world, your dick exists to entertain you. She's rejoicing in the sense of superiority, the ability to deliver or deny you pleasure.

She's being generous at least. Her hands don't seem to be stopping time soon. However, your end is near. The flame inside you have turned into a volcano, ready to erupt at any moment. The tingling sensation starts to grow into an amalgam of throbs and pulses. Giselle, who undoubtedly feel it, smiles. "Are you going to cum?" Another unnecessary question. "Cum, cum all over my hands"

And that's all you need to hear before you erupts, spewing globs after globs of cum. Some land on Giselle's dress, the others spill down her fingers. She keeps pumping you until your climax finally subside.

"That's a lot. It would be a shame to let it go to waste" Giselle licks your cum off her fingers and the sight alone is enough to get you hard again. She sucks the last drop off her middle finger and her eyes rest on yours. "We are just getting started. I hope you have a lot more"

You nod and that's not a lie because your dick is already up again like a spear. But this spear will impale something else.

"I want that cock stuffing me full, now" Giselle orders. "Come on, you have been on the ground for so long" You stands up and follow Giselle's lead, who bends over on a desk and spreads open her lips to reveal her pink insides. An invitation. "Just fuck me already"

Instantly, you shove your pole into her wet folds. Giselle lets out a gutteral moan, her back arching. "Oh, yes.....stuff me with that huge cock" If her hands had felt phenomenal to you, her wet cunt feels a thousand times more. You thrusts into her wet hole again and again, already lubed up by her juices earlier.

"Oh god, yes....just like that" Giselle moans and you gives her ass a slap, unable to resist the sight of it rippling each time your cervix meets her buttocks. More juice flows and Giselle moans louder. You knead the soft flesh of her ass, the touch of her skin like cotton in your grasp.

"Harder! Fuck me harder!" You are already putting every ounce of your strength but if Giselle orders, who are you not to oblige? You slam your hips harder. Your cock is already soaking from her juice and the friction no longer matters. It moves with the speed you desire.

Right at that moment, your eyes fall on the two corpses you have lined up against the shlef. Pennywise, with his bulging eyes and midway scream seems to be telling you "Is this what we die for? So that she can fuck you?" The other one, Aquawoman, with her blood soaked body seems to ask the same thing.

But the sickest thing is you wanna answer 'Yes, this is what you die for, so that I can fuck her' How corrupted have you become to put your animalistic desire above the life of others? But it no longer matters because the feeling of Giselle's cunt on your cock is the only thing you need.

Your attention reverts back from the lifeless bodies as Giselle's walls clench you hard. She was tight before. Now she's even tighter. You give your all to penetrate her tight folds but after going for so long, your strength is starting to waver. Giselle, however, is as energetic as ever. She pushes her ass back to meet your thrusts halfway, impatient to wait even for a split second.

You can only take so much as the second spiral of tingles start working their way down to your pelvis. "Fuck, Giselle, I'm gonna cum.." you warn. "Give it all to me, babe. Fill up my cunt. Yesssss..." Giselle hisses as her tight hole get pumped with the next torrent of baby batter exiting your shaft. Despite cumming earlier, the second orgasm hits you with the same euphoric wave, you start seeing the stars.

A steady drip of cum pours out of Giselle's pussy as you pull out. You are panting and all your limbs feel like jelly. Giselle has sucked out every bit of strength left in you. Pushing a finger into her pulsing hole, Giselle scoops out some of your cum, tasting it. "Mhmm...creamy.." She mutters as though she's testing out a new dessert. Maybe to her, it is.

"Are you already tired? Awwww....poor boy. But you know you can't stop until I'm satisfied right?" Giselle's words wash over you like a tide. Suddenly, you start believing you can go again. Afterall, your sole purpose is to entertain her.

You nod and you no longer knows if it's you or whatever is possessing you in this moment. All you can think is how you want to serve Giselle. Even if someone try to give you the escape you have been seeking desperately earlier, you would have refused it. Because now, you are Giselle's.

"Good boy" These words. How you crave them. You would do anything just to hear these words. "Sit" Giselle points to a wingback chair nearby, red just like the blood flowing from the corpse. You obeys. Giselle stands right in front of you, her arms folded. "Here's a little treat for you" Giselle pulls off her dress from the hem, making herself bare. Her body is a work of art, sculpted by the creator himself. Your masculine urges lead your eye right to her tits, which is as perfect as the rest of her body. The round globes that you can suck on for the rest of your life. "You like my tits?" Just one of the many redundant questions of the night. "Yes..." You mutter dreamily. "Taste them" Giselle grips the arms of the chair and leans in, her milkbags only an inch from your face. Instantly, you rises to put your lips on her tits, the other hand kneading the supple flesh of the other. You suck on her nipples ad even an infant can't rival your hunger. You need this.

"Do you like them that much?" With your mouth stuffed with her nipple, you can't answer. You don't need to. You move the attention of your lips to her other tit, switching positions with the first one. As you slurp and lick her tits, blood start to flow to your dick again. Not as hard as earlier but enough to do the job.

Suddenly, Giselle moves back and you are greeted by the emptiness. Sensing your disappointment, she chuckles. "Oh, babe. Don't be so upset, we have better things to do" She kneels, the shadow of your fully erected cock darkening her features. "I wonder how you taste" Giselle licks the underside of your shaft. One single movement but nonetheless, you bask in the sensation. "Not bad.." Another lick. This time on your tip. She twirls her tongue, collecting the remnants of cum from the earlier session. "Delicious...." And just like that, she swallows your shaft all the way down to the base. Her nose presses against your plevis but her eyes remain focused on yours.

You throw your head back. The walls of her throat are no less talented than her pussy walls. Gag reflex seems to be a joke to her as she impale herself on your cock over and over, barely making a sound except the occasional gurgle of spits flowing from the corner of her lips. Her plump lips seal around you perfectly, tracing every vein with each bob. Giselle ways to use you doesn't seem to be running out anytime soon and you like it that way. You want her to keep using you until you are no longer human but a vessel for her pleasure.

And her eyes. If her mouth is sucking the physical strength out of you, they are draining your willpower. There is no present or future. There's only Giselle.

Giselle releases your cock from her mouth with a pop, her hands now stroking your cock, drenched in her spit. "I must say...I'm impressed. No one have last that long" Is she talking about 'lasting' as in not dying yet? You couldn't care less. Her fingers glide over your pole smoothly with the lube her spit provides. She twists her fingers, cockscrewing you. The hunger in her eyes never dim and it never will. She will never be satisfied. Not by you, not by anyone else. You are just another toy, thrown away when it gets boring.

Another spiral of twists and turns, her hands work like magic. Not a single second goes to waste because there's nothing else that can cut off your attention. You moan and you hate yourself for it. But if Giselle likes it, your emotions can be thrown away.

"How cute. You are whining" Her movements turn swift, determined to milk you of every last drop. "Are you gonna cum again? Hmm? It's ok, cum on my tits. You have been a good boy. You deserve this" Words have powers and you believe it. As soon as her lips stop moving, your body jerks, spraying spurt after spurt of cum on her tits. Most of it find their way to the canvas of her boobs but a few land on her face. "Yes, babe...let it all out" Giselle hands leave your shaft.

Once again gripping the chair arms, she leans in, this time to your face. "Goodbye" She presses her lips to yours. A sense of calm flows through your core. Her lips that just sucks you off press harder and harder. Her tongue enters your mouth and you return the action, a ballad of muscles with the symphony of breaths. You can't stop. She won't stop.

Suddenly, you realize. You can't breathe. Air wouldn't enter your lungs. Does it matter? Breathing, is it as important as Giselle? No, it isn't. You are well aware you have gone insane. Ever seen a mad man and wonder what's going on in their minds? Don't. They know themselves more than you ever will. So you don't need to be questioned. You have accepted your fate. If it's a curse, you will gladly embrace it because all you can think of is Giselle, Giselle and Giselle until your last breath.

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

(I have never written something this crazy before. But who isn't for Giselle?)

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Finn's sleep deprivation comes to bite him in the ass. The issue is technically not solved but hey it's angst so :P. Word count: 3031

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Break

The exam results were out. Finally, after weeks of waiting, the fates of every student of Night Raven College were stamped onto a large board, strung up within the hall of mirrors for everyone to see.

Finn stood amongst the crowd of students clamouring to see their results, wincing at the noise. Azul had wandered off to speak to Riddle, greeting the Heartslabyul dorm leader with a grin and an endless string of compliments, and the twins were nowhere to be found.

Finn didn't mind. He was rather occupied with searching for his own position on the board with heavy, tired eyes. Last term, he had been thirteenth in the grade, but he was no longer there, and he couldn't find-

There. Nineteen. He was still in the top twenty but... he dropped six places.

Finn bit his lip and linked his hands together nervously.

No... no, he studied so hard, he went through so much work dozens of times, he asked Azul to quizz him, he... he...

The noise around Finn faded into a haze, and he stared at the board blankly, his mind running wild with a hundred different thoughts. He barely noticed the students brushing past him and snapping at him to move. He just stood there and stared.

Six places. He dropped six places.

"Finn, the bell went. We need to get to class."

Finn turned his head to find Azul looking at him, then turned back to the board. "...Okay."

Azul frowned and followed his gaze, reading through the list until he got to Finn's name and he started.

"Ah. The... potion didn't work, then?"

Finn nodded, and Azul sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me-"

"We're going to be late." Finn abruptly cut him off and began speedwalking down the hallway to the alchemy lab before Azul could protest.

He had a practical now. Not for marks, but a joint class test run for next term. It seemed Crewel had a desire to make his students suffer one last time before the holidays.

No matter. It was fine. Finn was good at alchemy. Well, he was good at getting the ingredients correct, at least. But he was partnered with Riddle. It would be fine.

He was right. Everything was fine at first. Riddle was already there with the cauldron ready, unsurprisingly, reading carefully through the ingredients with his brows furrowed in concentration.

They exchanged greetings and settled into mutual silence, working in a slow, steady tandem.

Finn enjoyed working with Riddle. There was no hesitation, no umming and awing or trying to make small talk. Riddle worked quickly and precisely, without stupid mistakes, and if Finn were to cut something too large or stir too fast, the redhead would correct him and carry on.

Things were going well. The potion was looking perfect, and they were further ahead than most of their classmates.

There were a few times when Finn's vision doubled, and his hands started to shake, but it wasn't anything to worry about.

Finn winced. His head... felt fuzzy. He wasn't dizzy, but he didn't have a headache either. He wasn't an idiot. He knew it had something to do with his lack of sleep the past few weeks.

It wasn't his fault. Ghostly blank stares and the distant sound of high-pitched wailing wasn't something he could magic away.

Still. It wasn't detrimental. He still had dreamless nights, though those were getting rare, and he made up for it during the day. It didn't affect his work. That was much was obvious by the potion's progress. All it needed was a garlic clove and-

The mixture turned dark red instead of golden brown, and Finn blinked.

He heard Riddle gasp and a pit formed in his stomach.

"Finn, you're not supposed to put garlic cloves in a healing potion-!"

Riddle was turning red but trying to calm himself down through sharp, fast-paced breaths.

"You- the whole potion's ruined, I-"

Finn didn't answer him. He stared blankly at the oily surface of the ruined mixture, stupefied. His own reflection stared back at him, sleep deprived eyes and all, and then... five more.

He caught sight of those empty black sockets, and a sharp spike of fear shot through him. He jumped back with a poorly contained yelp, nearly knocking into the person behind him.

Riddle's nostrils flared, and he took off his safety goggles to pinch the bridge of his nose and draw in a deep breath. He put his goggles on the table next to him and stared at Finn with large grey that shone in a mix of anger, frustration, and... concern?

"Finn, you never get ingredients wrong. Are you alright?"

Finn was too surprised to answer at first, but after a moment or two of staring at Riddle, he shook his head. "I'm fine. I misread the ingredients. I apologise."

Riddle furrowed his brows and crossed his arms, unsatisfied with the answer.

Finn suddenly felt very wrong and uncomfortable because this was not what they should be doing, this was not how things went. They can't sit here chatting. They need to restart, to try again. Why was Riddle looking at him like that? Like he cared about him and not the ruined potion? Like he was worried?

"You never make mistakes like that." Riddle insisted. "That's why I like having you as a partner. You look tired, have you been getting enough sleep?"

The question triggered a hundred different memories of the same sequence at once. Get ready for bed, take a dreamless potion, go to sleep, wake up crying, screaming, or thrashing, spend the rest of the night wide awake and too terrified to look at any reflections, rinse and repeat.

"Plenty." Finn said, sounding calmer than he felt. "Empty the cauldron. We'll start again."

Riddle didn't press further, and with their combined efforts, they just barely managed to finish in time for the bell. The potion was rushed and imperfect, but at least it was finished.

Finn apologised to Riddle once again for his mistake and promised to make it up to him, then shuffled off to take off his lab wear.

"Mister Clearcove, pay attention."

Finn's eyes flew open at the sudden voice, and he looked up to see his ancient curses professor giving him a stern look. Wait. Ancient curses? He didn't even remember coming into the classroom. He was just taking off his lab wear, wasn't he?

Did he fall asleep during class? No, he couldn't have. No matter how exhausted he was, he never allowed himself to fall asleep. ...It seemed he had failed this time.

Finn had to fight to stay awake throughout the rest of the day. Every time his eyelids slid shut, they would stay that way until he forced them open again.

The only things that woke him up properly were the brief glimpses of them in the windows, but even those shots of adrenaline were quick to fade, leaving him exhausted yet again.

Finn usually looked forward to clubs, as it was a quiet, pleasant time for him, but now... it was just another obstacle in between him and the end of the day.

Malleus was talking about... something. The history of gothic architecture and its impact, Finn was pretty sure. It was difficult to concentrate on his words.

"Finn." Malleus said, and Finn blinked at him. "You not listening again."

Finn could see the irritated furrow of Malleus' brows, the way his mouth dipped into an expression far too pouty for that of a prince.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, not for the first time. He sent Malleus a tight-lipped smile. "Please, continue. I'll be sure to pay close attention."

By the time his astrology class rolled around, Finn felt like he'd been run over by a train and then wrung out like a cloth.

Peering through the telescope provided by the school made his eyes ache even more, and trying to concentrate on the constellations above them made his head pound.

The stars kept blurring. He couldn't focus on them. His fingers trembled as he tried to sketch with his free hand.

"Your positions are a little off, Clearcove."

Finn clenched his teeth to stop himself from saying something rather foul and raised his head to send Professor Da Costa a smile.

"Thank you, Professor. I'll correct that immediately."

He began erasing his work with furrowed brows, blinking away another brief moment of double vision.

"Are you alright, Clearcove?"

Professor Da Costa was still peering at him, concern flickering in his dark blue eyes. He was always concerned for the well-being of his students, but really, did he have to pry like Riddle?

"I'm fine, professor." Finn said, gnawing in his lip in an attempt to keep the irritation out of his tone.

The professor raised an eyebrow at him but simply nodded his head. "Take care of yourself, Clearcove." He said, smiling a little, then carried on towards the other students.

Finn huffed and went back to peering through the telescope.

By the time his school day officially ended, Finn was bumping into corners and nearly tripping over himself on the way to his room in Octavinelle.

He collapsed onto his bed as if he'd spent all day running with a relieved sigh, pressing his face into his pillow. He was glad to have a room to himself, for once, with no noisy roommates to bother him.

Finn would have fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow if it weren't for the nagging reminder of his shift at Mostro Lounge in the back of his head.

He peeled himself from his bed and rifled through his bedside drawers for the key to his cupboard. He passed by his dressing table, glad he had thrown a sheet over the mirror the night before. But looking at it now made him realise he would have to deal with the reflective surfaces of bottles, glasses, the glass wall, and more.

Thousands of reflections. Thousands of eyes.

Maybe... maybe he should ask Azul if he could take the night off.

'Don't be stupid,' said a little voice in the back of his head. His voice. 'Just because you're together doesn't mean you should expect special treatment. You're not special. You need to pull your weight.'

But he felt so tired.

'Everyone's tired. They don't even hurt you. They just give you bad dreams. What's next, running home crying to Papa?'

Finn growled something crude and pulled his dorm uniform out of the cupboard. He stared at it, at the suit jacket and bow tie and suspenders that promised relentless noise and too many reflections.

He sighed. This was going to be a long night.

Usually, Mostro Lounge was an odd sort of comfort for him. It reminded him of Azul, Jade, and Floyd, and it was peaceful when it was closed.

Now, though, everything Finn could possibly dislike about it was amplified. The lights were so bright it made his eyes water and his head hurt. The hubbub of voices and people eating was pounding inside his head. There were too many reflections.

The polished floor, the glasses, the bottles, the plates... too many things were just reflective enough for Finn to want to blindfold himself.

His eyes were heavy and sore, and Finn was yet again considering asking Azul if he could just... stop. Hang on, he couldn't think about that right now. He was busy.

...What was he doing again? Drinks, right. That was his job. Make drinks, listen for information. Except he couldn't really hear anything very well. Everything around him was just a blur of noise.

Someone ordered... something. That Pomefiore student, yes, he wanted Azul's new special drink.

Finn sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly. He hadn't felt this exhausted in a long time. The dreams had gotten worse recently. He didn't know why. Did they want something? Were they bored of his fear and decided to bring it up a notch?

The sound of glass breaking pulled Finn back into reality. He blinked once. Twice. Tired eyes drifted in the direction of the sound, which was... right at his feet.

Glass shards lay scattered across the once pristine floor, blue and pink liquid slowly forming a small puddle.

A thousand warped reflections of himself gazed at him, a thousand pairs of eyes, and he raised his hand to cover his face, only to find his gloves stained red.

Finn's vision began to blur, and a sudden high pitch ringing began echoing through his ears, and Finn took a step back.

Staff and students alike stared him before slowly turning back to their tasks when his eyes met theirs, a low chatter starting up again.

"I-" Finn turned to look at the second year the drink was for and swallowed. "I apologise. I'll fix that right away."

He went to clear up the mess, silently hoping he didn't look as embarrassed as he felt.

The blurry shape of a cane came into view, hitting the ground with a sharp thud. Finn wondered if he should just crawl into the ground and fade away.

"Finn," Azul's voice was stern. "That's coming out of your pay. You clearly aren't fit to work tonight. You can make up your shift next week."

Finn picked himself off the ground, glass shards in hand, and stared at Azul. "But-"

Azul gripped his arm and led him to a quieter corner, away from the eyes and ears of their fellow students.

To others, it would seem like the Octavinelle dorm leader, strict as he was suave, was pulling Finn aside with a grip strong enough to bruise to deal a punishment.

But for Finn, Azul's grip was tight but not painful. His voice barely filament-thin whisper only Finn could hear, was both serious and... worried.

"Do you want to stay in my room tonight? Or the twins'?"

Finn shook his head. "No, thank you. That won't be necessary."

Azul's grip tightened a little bit. "You're not sleeping-"

"I'll be fine." Finn said, suppressing the urge to just... hold Azul's hand. "I haven't seen them much today."

Azul stared at him for a while before reluctantly releasing his grip. "Tell us if you need something." He said, then walked away.

Floyd and Jade... weren't there. No, they were in the kitchen. Finn wondered if he should tell them he was leaving. ...No, they could figure that out themselves.

Finn left the lounge in a daze, clutching his bleeding hand to his chest.

'Idiot,' hissed that little voice when he shut his bedroom door behind him and sat at his desk and pulled off his gloves. 'You made him angry. Dropping a glass, really now-'

'It was an accident,' Finn's brows furrowed, and he began carefully removing the tiny shards of bloodied glass from his palm. 'I was tired. I blacked out.'

'And broke an expensive glass that only comes in sets. You think he'll accept that pathetic excuse? '

Finn's fingers curled tightly.

'It's always some problem with you. Too tired, too afraid, too overwhelmed. Nightmares, panic attacks, hyperventilating... do you do anything but make the others stress and worry? They probably question if it was worth choosing you.'

"Be quiet." Finn snarled, slamming the tweezer onto the table with a loud bang. The voice went silent.

Finn began rummaging through his drawers to find his makeup remover. It was always a pain trying to get everything off by himself without using a mirror, but he'd rather have sore eyes than look at them.

Getting ready for bed was... difficult. Finn was used to clothes now, but his exhaustion had him struggling to put his pyjamas on like an idiot.

He made the mistake of glancing out the window to see how late it was. It was pitch black outside, so he locked eyes with his own reflection and caught sight of his personal apparitions yet again.

Finn sucked in a breath and stared at the wall instead, undoing his bun and letting his hair fall to his shoulders.

They were still reflected in the window when he finished getting ready, which just irritated and scared him more because this stupid dorm could install an entire restaurant underwater but not a curtain rail for the dorm rooms.

Finn climbed into bed and turned away from the window, stiff and uncomfortable. His eyes, although sore and heavy, refused to shut. Finn felt the dread crawling up his spine, and he kept turning around to check the window. Just in case.

In case of what?

He struggled with keeping his eyes open all day, and now that he could finally sleep, he was wide awake? What a load of bullshit.

Finn threw off his covers and got out of bed. He pulled open his drawer, grabbed two keys, then left.

The twins' room wasn't far from his. In fact, they were on the opposite side of the hall, two doors over. Finn wasn't entirely sure why he was going there.

Finn found himself rummaging through their cupcoards, feeling a little bit pathetic.

Jade's extra scarf was wrapped around his neck, and one of Floyd's jerseys was pulled on quickly, though it was much too big for him.

He wasn't cold, but the warmth he felt then was nice. He felt better. A little more comforted. The twins weren't actually there, but this was close enough.

He exited the twins' room and quickly made his way to Azul's. It was at the very end of the hall, the only door at the dead end wall.

The next thing Finn knew, he was collapsed on Azul's bed, buried under the covers. He felt warm, and he felt safe. He could smell Azul, and he could smell Jade and Floyd. Azul, Jade, and Floyd meant safe.

Finb wrapped his arms tightly around himself, gripping Jade's scarf as if he feared it would run away. His brain seemed satisfied with this setup, even if his siblings were also reflected in Azul's window.

Finally, he felt himself relax and heavy, tired eyes slid shut at last.

-End

...........................................

A/N: Sorry if the ending is a little off I didn't know how to end it 🥲

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @am0nline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts

[overlysarcasticpolls]

Favorite OSP video?

How could you do this to me.

You'll be lucky if I can narrow it down to five.

In no particular order-

Alcibiades, The Ptolmies, Hades and Persephone, Pope Fights, the Rome Re-Summarized videos. Also the Cleo Cameo.

[c6jpg]

GENSHIN IMPACT - zero’s character roster

[doodles-with-noodles]

Story ideas that won’t leave my head so I just write them down on here (It gets continually longer):

-Post-apocalyptic setting. The main character reaches a scrappy town whose only supply way has been blocked by enemies. Helping each other ensues because I am a sucker for „the inherent goodness of humanity“ storylines. Everyone is batshit crazy and it’s fun.

-Rich heir of a cruiseship starts seeing ghosts on said cruiseship. With no way to escape they start solving their murders/deaths to get them to leave them in peace + have to deal with lotsa own family drama. Probably post-war sometime and quite serious/more gritty than stuff I usually write, so I think while it’s a fun concept it wouldn’t quite fit my style (I alternate fluidly between funsie stuff and grittiness).

-The main character, a girl named Jules enters into the absolute chaos that is the job to protect society from ancient Egyptian mythology and has to decide if her quest for justice or her new team are more important. I really love the characters for this one, they’re very cool but take constant Ls. They’re also super interesting to explore, and despite me having a lot of story I adore having very much personality and character in my writing.

-A group of very much morally gray characters are offered something they truly want- in exchange, they have to steal/alter someone’s memory with cool future midtech stuff. Problem is that

1. never before has there been an attempt to directly influence a person’s mind

2. who knew? Totally stable seeming person has a fucked up mind and

3. If someone dreams they absolutely will be present in their own consciousness.

So now they’re not only dragging their subject (their dreaming subjects projection through their own consciousness? Idk) with them on a weird and wildly illegal journey trying to find the memory but also grappling with the moral implications because peak enemies to friends is happening. Plus facing the problem that you can’t just remove a memory because it is so deeply entwined with who the person is. But they cannot stop because their employer holds something against all of them. Came from a random line that popped into my head „bold of you to assume I can control my own mind.“ Also, once again very character and their dynamics focused. Idk if it has a good ending because if they remove the memory the subject will forget and that would be shitty but at the moment the only possible solution I could think of. Definetly has the vibes of old-fashioned slow music laid over violent slow fight scenes I don’t make the rules.

[mattodore]

📩Random simblr question of the day: If you could be remade into another simblr’s sim style, who would you choose?

my favorite sim style on here!!!! is absolutely without a doubt @spurgees' style. i could spot a moss spurgees sim from a mile away! i trust my sim would be in good hands with them ☝️

[yeonban]

Soma's bushido summed up:

[blurrymango]

Consumed by thoughts of Evil Morty and Rick Prime in love.

Which is. Well that is literally the most delusional pairing I have.

I mean like.

Well uh. Let's see how about Outlast and what I ship in that. Weddie. At least one half of that ship has an obsessive violent "love" for the other. It's one-sided yeah. But it's full of potential for "what if's" and GUILT. Waylon, the idea of not being able to save Eddie from the insanity that was inflicted haunting him every night. Eddie, the idea of him surviving and all the shit that comes from the guilt of knowing what he did to so many people that night and constantly wondering about the one that got away. A groom who's mind is muddled and twisted and a reluctant bride who sealed his fate. They could have been beautiful together, you know.

And my most recent of 2doc. Stockholm syndrome in a nutshell, basically just an idiot who keeps getting back together with a terrible abusive ex. Murdoc put 2D into that damn coma, but also got him out of it. Damn satanist putting his "blue haired black eyed god" through constant physical and mental agony and yet. 2D still loves him. Even after the events of Plastic Beach and Murdoc being locked up for long enough for 2D to taste freedom from that agony. They still save eachother. They still love eachother. Murdoc has said his favorite colors are blue and green. Blue and goddamn green.

And 15 seasons of Supernatural for- Wincest. Well c'mon man. Literal canonical soulmates who died for eachother countless times. That damn quote about them being irrationally emotionally erotically co-dependent on each other or what the ffuck ever. The vessels of good and evil who go against fate time and time again because they choose each other. Even when they'd be objectively living better lives apart, they wouldn't be happy like that. Because ever since John put baby Sammy in Dean's arms that fateful night and told him to protect him or whatever it has always been the two of them. Sam and Dean. Even in the face of certain doom, it's the two of them. Heaven is an open road for them to drive down.

Homestuck is gay and cringe but y'know what isn't. GamKar. Knight of Blood and Bard of Rage. Tropic of Cancer and Tropic of Capricorn. Moirails made in shite circumstances. Fear and uncertainty and anger and longing. Miraculous blood and insanity. Sopor pies the color of lime the color of what Karkat was mutated from. Tragedy and comedy and red and green swirling together into madness. Mirthful Messiahs and Signless Sufferers and clowns and crabs. Royalty of Prospit. Doomed and retconned timelines leaving us with only crumbs of what could have been. Karkat's purple recuperacoon to go Gamzee's red.

And well. Of course. Rick and Morty. Rick and Morty, forever and forever, a hundred years Rick and Morty! It's Rick and Morty against the everything. Complementary brainwaves be damned y'know, cosmic destiny be damned. That's not even his "real" Rick. But it is. Dimensions left behind and lies upon lies because admitting the truth is emotionally vulnerable but love is shown through actions and they have proven to each other that the love they have is legit. Yes, it's far from perfect, downright toxic at times. But it's strong. It's persistent and true and unbreakable despite their doubts.

But for. *checks nonexistent notes* The ffuck do you mean it's almost 5 AM that's not real. Anyway. Evil Morty wants nothing to do with Ricks of any kind. His main goal has always been escaping that bullshit. And Rick Prime well. He's a ffucking careless psycho. Why does he do the shit he does? Ffuck if I remember. He doesn't give a shit about a Morty and that's obvious. Plus with the events of season 7 y'know. It does not make sense at all. That pairing.

But you know how it is with spaghetti.

[gacorley]

There’s some common threads I see in the anti-voting posts going around, and I feel like I need to discuss some of them. Let’s start with the biggest one:

Voting to punish evil. I see lots of variations of this. Biden is supporting Israel, therefore we can’t vote for him. Is there any viable candidate who would stop the genocide? I don’t think the anti voting crowd actually cares. They are appealing to moral feelings rather than political strategy, because strategically, you have to realize that voting is not going to change foreign policy, and that change has to be pushed by other means. It’ll probably be something in the long haul.

Democrats should run someone else. First of all, this is a shit strategy. You don’t primary your president in the second term unless your party is falling apart. This may come from people from countries where replacing the head of government is easier, but the POTUS is the de facto party head. Also, going to the lack of thought to the goal — do you know someone willing to primary Biden and able to win who would do the things you want?

Biden hasn’t done anything anyway. This is just a way to bat away pro arguments. There’s plenty of lists of progress on lots of things. Student loans, insulin price caps, regulations, anti-trust.

Putting the entire Palestinian genocide on Biden. I’m not saying there’s not culpability there, but understand that the entire US government is in support of Israel, on both sides. It was a miracle we got a handful of Senators to call for investigations. We should cut off aid, absolutely. Who’s running to do that? And keep in mind that Israel chose to engage. US officials would have liked a more limited response, not out of care for Palestinians, but because they know from experience that it will come back to bite Israel in the form of newly radicalized Hamas recruits.

Liberals just have no hope for change. This is a new one. Just some idea that people are stuck in a rut and that’s the reason the two party system exists. The two party system is a mathematical consequence of the way we vote. There is reason to hope for change. The change, though, whatever means you choose, will take decades. Keep working at it. The hope is not that this election will fundamentally change things. The hope is that many small political actions over the years will push things forward.

Funnily enough, I haven’t seen a whole lot of third party promotion, just lots of this rhetoric aiming to punish. When voting, ask yourself:

Is this problem I have with this candidate something that the other candidate would be better on?

Are there other political actions I can take that will help?

What things can change with a different President or Congress, and what needs to be pursued by other means?

Withholding your vote as a punishment isn’t really going to help. Biden doesn’t know who you are or why you are not voting for him, and there is no one with a chance of winning that will do everything you want. But you have other means. Protest, organize, donate, build up alternatives, advocate for a different system.

Vote to give yourself space and get a little bit. Do other things to keep things moving.