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evilgwrl · 16 days ago

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Neighbour!Simon Riley x Reader

Girl Next Door (Ten)

CW: PIV (no protection, use it irl), cream pies, angst, brief description of oral (f receiving), drama time!!!

P.S. this is kinda dooky my bad

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Everything was white-hot, a strum of fulfilment working through every muscle, scorching blood pumping through your veins, constricting your breath with every knock against your cervix. Teeth indented your neck, crescent moons scarring the flesh with every breath that rang against your throat.

Simon was everywhere.

Whether it was hands gripping at your ass, kneading the flesh between over-worked palms, or his tongue licking at your neck, cleaning the peppered wounds he flourished into your skin, he was there.

Black face paint stained your chest, stygian stains tearing down your breasts with every drop of water, his eyes seizing all colour as his pupils dilated, lapping in the sight of you with every dip of his crusted lashes. He was almost feral, grunting with every deep thrust, enjoying the way you drew him in with every suck of your creamy cunt, every stutter of a breath that whispered against his ear, every splutter of your lungs that filled with water as your mouth held open over the spurting faucet.

His chest was swollen with pride, a sick sense of satisfaction running through him at your expression, your body docile against his grip as your eyes squeezed into crinkled slits. You were utterly fucked on his sheath, his hips pistoling into yours like it was his duty to pleasure you, to bring you to that high he was desperately chasing to feel.

Dark curls brushed against your crotch with every drive of his cock, your tender nipples against his aggravated skin, the skin that was torn from his preposterous labour. His fingers were cruel, toying at your clit with ease as you dug your fingernails into the chisel of his back, coarse muscles reacting to the touch.

You felt fuzzy; your mouth jutted open with a whine as your body succumbed to him, torturous rolls of pressure building in your stomach.

“I’ve missed feeling you around me,” he rasped, his voice splintered with frustration. Frustration that he hadn’t had a proper release since his departure, frustration that he was away from you, frustration that the man was catching feelings faster than he believed he should.

“Missed you,” you mewled, squeezing him coherently with your words, a guttural groan sounding from the man.

Your bodies melted into the water, colliding with each other’s limbs as Simon came inside you, hot spurts of come plugging your cunt with a grunt as he pulled out, a stutter of a breath sounding from you as your legs wobbled onto the ground, muscles spasming in retaliation.

Simon’s fingers were gentle, working the loofah over your relaxed state as your neck cocked. You were so supine around him. Why? Don’t you know what kind of person he is? How many people he’s killed?

“Simon?”

The Lieutenant cleared his throat, staring at you as you pushed his hand away from the same spot he had been rubbing for the last minute.

“Sorry, got lost in thought.”

You offered him a polite smile, pressing a kiss on the corner of his mouth before sudsing the sponge back up, your touch delicate as you ran over his bruises. Simon’s eyes slacked, consumed by nothing as he drifted into thought, enthralled in his work.

Gunpowder skinned his nose, staining his nostrils with the thickness of burnt flesh and stolen lives, the sound of begging and retaliation engorging his brain as he shoved you away, a harsh grunt leaving his lips as he shook off his head, stepping out of the steam.

“Simon? What – are you ok?”

“I have to go, Y/N.”

Autumn had consumed your garden, the green rotting into a moulded brown, a dead stream of leaves scattered like a path to your front door. The air was thick with wet dirt and burnt coffee, a flurry of frogs making a home in one of your unused watering cans. The sky was angrier, often lashing out on the planet in the form of rain and thunder.

Time was going by quicker, the end of September reaching up to you as you crossed an ‘X�� over your calendar. It had been almost 3 weeks since you had spoken to Simon.

You had tried.

It began as chasing him out of the shower in nothing but a towel, your head dripping wet, which turned to you knocking on his door a day later with cookies again, availed by no answer. That turned into you sitting outside the front more in hopes of seeing him.

You didn’t.

You were confused at first, your heart aching slightly at the sudden switch between the man. You had taken it out on your garden, aggravated fists pummelling at the soil like a child throwing a tantrum. It wasn’t long until you summed it down to him not wanting anything serious and left it at that.

You were disappointed, hushing yourself to sleep on your satin pillow as you attempted to listen to any sound of him on the other side. You were also a big girl.

If he was that easy to lose, you never had him in the first place.

The fall air was heavy with familiarity as you piled into the busy parking lot, a swarm of pine trees greeting you, their leaves a vibrant display of orange and yellow, pointed outwards with desperation.

It was a little tradition you had kept for yourself: carving pumpkins.

Everything was crisp. There was an over-ripe stench of cinnamon consuming you from passing cider stalls with the sound of families bustling around with candied apples and hot drinks.

You spotted Tamara in the distance, her boyfriend Max next to her, hugging himself in an attempt for warmth as she tapped him on the shoulder, her hand waving frantically at you.

“Hello!” She cooed, pulling you into a needed hug. She smelt like pumpkin and vanilla, almost gagging you at how much she had drowned herself in perfume. Her hair matched the Autumn air, an earthy red catching your attention as you ran your fingers through the heated curls.

“New hair?” You asked, smiling brightly as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.

“Needed a change,” she said, wrapping her arm into Max’s, who began rambling about how he was going to make the best Jack-o-Lantern.

“Oh! I forgot to tell you; Louis is coming. Is that ok?”

The pit in your stomach coiled for a minute, a remembrance of the last time you saw him in that café with Simon before you nodded.

“Of course!”

Louis stepped out of his car, the bristle of a chill in the air reminding him of where he grew up as he tugged at his cashmere jumper, the blue colour leading him to stand out like a sore thumb until he saw you, a familiar shade adorning you.

His voice was soft as he greeted you, Max and Tamara immediately walking off to pick out their pumpkins.

“How have you been?”

“I’ve been well,” you say, gazing at the row of orange surrounding you, children running in between passing couples as you pointed to the fattest vegetables surrounding you.

“I didn’t mean to intrude when you were out with your boyfriend-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct, taking in how harsh your tone was before placing your hand on his shoulder, “You didn’t intrude on anything. I would – I would love to go out with you.”

It felt wrong to get all dolled up for someone else. Red stained your lips, and your teeth, as you rubbed at them aggressively in the mirror, a black silk dress falling from your skin elegantly. Your eyes were shaded with a fine liner, a smoky hue of brown on your lash line as you spritz your more expensive perfume for the occasion.

Louis was different, fancier, you suppose. His Jaguar skidded against the gravel, an irritated scowl on his face before he watched you peek through the window, an amused look on your face as you opened the front door.

“You look beautiful,” the man said, holding a bouquet of red roses in his hand, tied with a pearl string. You shared dinner over a bottle of Cabernet and ended it with his hand on your thigh, his engine roaring down your cul-de-sac with glee as you kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you for tonight, I enjoyed it.”

It should have ended there. But it didn’t.

It felt wrong to get undressed for someone else. It felt wrong to feel someone else kiss against your pudgy clit and lap at your slick. It felt wrong to buck your hips to meet his, your chest groped with a layer of sweat from another man’s mouth.

Could he hear you? Did he care?

He did.

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jasperthehatchet · 5 months ago

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my bag 🌿⛓️🌻⚙️ more details in the image ID and more pics below

I found a small plain black leather backpack at the thrift store for $6 and made it my own :) I used silver sharpie for the swirls and made the buttons all myself with the exception of the metal ones

[Image ID: a small black leather backpack covered in patches, buttons, safety pins, studs and silver and metalic green spirals in the spaces with no patches. There are four patches on the front, an orange patch with a white trans rights symbol sewn on with white thread, and a circular green patch with a simplistic sun and moon drawin on it in black (a mirrormask patch) sewn on with black thread. And on the front pocket on the bottom, theres a dark green band patch with white lettering that says "she past away" sewn on with white thread and a black patch next to it with a red anarchy symbol sewn on the bag with red thread. There are silver spike studs lining the edges of the bag along the zipper and on the front pocket as well as soda tabs sewn onto the front pocket flap with off-white thread. And on both sides of the pocket there are safety pins decorating the empty space next to it. There are four pins on the side of the bag, a light green and white spiral pin, a light green and white "eat the rich" pin, and a metal fairy pin on the top half, and theres a metal frog with an umbrella pin on the front pocket in-between the two patches. Theres also a small orange carabiner on the pocket zipper.

On the left side of the bag, there is a patch on the bottom where a side pocket would normally be. An off-white band patch that says "bauhaus" in black lettering and it's sewn on with black thread, and there are silver spirals around it filling the space. There are some areas I left blank to make the swirls/spirals look like they're hanging down or growing up the bag like vines. There's a horizontal seam above all this that makes the area look like a pocket, and above this seam there's a metal pin with a sun, moon and stars on it.

The right side of the bag, there's no patch where a pocket should be, I instead filled this space with some spirals and more handmade bottle cap buttons. Two buttons, a larger type o negative band button that's black with white thorny vines, and a smaller red band button that says "doom scroll" on it in off-white lettering. Above the seam on this side I drew a bunch of silver spirals that look like they are growing out from behind the seam.

All thread mentioned in this post is embroidery thread, and some groups of spirals drawn on the bag are metallic green. End ID]

Here's the top of the bag as well as the straps that hang down

[Image ID: the bag has a rounded arch shape, and across the top of the leather I drew a cluster of green spirals in between the silver spirals I drew on the sides. There are some blank spots to avoid making the bag look busier than it already is. The loop at the top for hanging the bag is embroidered with a green leafy vine pattern. The same pattern is embroidered on the right strap that hangs down from the bottom of the bag, and on the right one, a gray barbed wire pattern is embroidered. I plan on sewing some more soda tabs onto the top of the bag at some point for the sake of adding more shiny things and also fill up some of that space I mentioned because while I don't want the bag to be too busy, I think the blank space i left on the top is a little too much blank space. End ID]

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isuckatwritingsobenice · 8 months ago

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Infernal Shadows 04.

Synopsis: Being one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, you like to keep up with colonies and overlord plans. Recently with the new extermination date out, you hold your annual gala sooner than usual. You hadn’t expected to get in the middle of the already heated feud between the Radio Demon and the head of Vox Tech.

Warnings: She/Her pronouns used for the reader, mentions of blood, voodoo?, Angel Dust being a horn-bag, Reader is referred too as Madame to the public. Vox and Alastor feud because I live for it, last part was a cliffhanger but here we are surviving :) Some background on Madame and I pray you guys get the reference with the name of the exorcist

A/N: I AM BACK FROM THE DEAD!!!! I finally got this out and I added to it so this is a longer chapter than anticipated. I’m so horribly sorry for taking forever to get this out, I had like so many reports to do for my job and this was just calling to me. I hope you guys didn’t forget this and if you did I totally don’t blame you. Not to fret though, I have big plans coming soon, and I’m pushing for longer chapters to keep you people fed. I love you all so so so much! Happy reading and thank you for being so patient and for all the kind messages I got! As for the taglist, I’m afraid it’s closed as of right now, just because I physically cannot tag anymore people on these posts, so I’ll try to figure something out with that!

Tags: @dollops-of-delusion @nebusokuxp @scrunchss @rosedasy @valluvz @chesstras @pishybowl @iaaeav @forgotten-blues @22carolina08 @roboticsuccubus83 @doflamingadonquixote @froggyferrets @frompeach @absurd-ash @sillysillyxinnabun @urdariingdoll @delectableworm @immahuman @justaproudslytherpuff @local-mr-frog @angeli-fucking-cat @coldsweetsenthusiast @jadekomaeda @coffeethoughtsandanxiety @lunalixya @lemonrolls @asimplikeallyall @only-cherry-blossom @sockgoblin @nxrdamp @1-800-no-users-left @l0ca1ax010t1 @inutheangel @reader-of-worlds @writing-fanics @random-person07 @ghostdoodlen @elaemae @fantasy-angelo @tanjirosworld @patchesofdreams @sunnyslug @reineurynome @scoliobean @arrozyfrijoles23 @kimmikreates @lqmons @amarokofficial @mangobango69

Word count: 5694

Navigation!! // Masterlist!! // Serendipity writes (event)!! // Part three // part five

Charlie had almost jumped out of her seat upon seeing the excorsist by your side. The water spout collapsing quickly, water violently splashing all around. A crowd of ‘ooh’s and ah’s could be heard from the crowd as you finally revealed the exorcist to everyone, allowing the sinners around to get a better look at the pet with you. The exorcist next to you was a woman, who looked fairly young. Her wings were large, white feathers with a sheer hint of gold. Her skin was ghostly white, and her eyes were equally as pale, almost a ghost. she looked around quickly, turning in her spot on the ground next to you, where she was kneeling. Her wrists were bound by chains and she stood quickly, wings flaring out. Yet, amid the spectacle, Charlotte couldn't help but notice a flicker of sorrow in the exorcist's pale eyes.

You stood next to her calmly, playing the violin as she stood, flying off the ground and up the middle of the coliseum, flying as quickly as she good. Her long hair, white with golden streaks, flowing as she flew up. Before she could get out however, a long black chain appeared around her neck, pulling her backward quickly, choking her. Her eyes went wide, hand reaching out to the sky above, a silent reach for heaven, before her angelic body was pulled back into the floor of the coliseum, body hitting the hard ground with a loud thud, the floor cracking beneath her upon the impact. Black chains began to hold onto her legs, her chest and neck as she fought against it, the chains lifting her high enough in the air for the crowd to see, making a mockery out of her, out of the exorcists above.

Charlotte's eyes widened, mirroring the shock and disbelief etched across her face as she witnessed the angelic exorcist's dramatic entrance. Alastor, usually composed, betrayed a subtle flicker of concern, his stoic demeanor momentarily shaken.

As the exorcist's wings unfurled, the sheer beauty of her appearance contrasted sharply with the ominous chains that bound her. The crowd's collective gasp echoed, drowning out the earlier applause.

Alastor's grip on his opera glasses tightened, a silent acknowledgment of the unforeseen depth this performance had taken. The music continued, but now there was an undertone of tension, each note echoing the internal struggle of the exorcist. Just the way you had intended.

The audience's gasps turned into uneasy whispers. Charlotte glanced at Alastor, finding a mix of fascination and unease in his expression. His smile looked almost painful, like a touch to him would have him shatter on the spot. She was not used to seeing him this way. Something was oddly unsettling about having him next to her in this way.

“Should we be watching this?” Velvet leans over to ask Vox, sketch book long discarded. He says nothing, eyes blown wide as he takes in the sight before him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t ever seen an exorcist, but this sight was different in itself. You were basically manhandling an exorcist right in front of everyone. This was holy power you were messing with. Tauntingly, making a fool out of this poor innocent girl. Vox wasn’t sure if he was supposed to run away, tail between his legs, or sit and watch the way you had wanted. To obey or disobey, like a dog.

The song was finally at its peak, the angels wings spread to its full length as she fought to get away, thrashing about as she fought again the chains. Charlotte feels her own throat tighten, her heart feeling heavy.

“I can’t watch.” Charlotte said, standing and moving to take her leave, but a large shadow blocked her path.

“Madame requests that you stay here.” The shadow spoke. Charlotte was silent and though she wanted to argue, decided against it.

Amidst the tension, the atmosphere in the coliseum grew heavier, the ethereal music now echoing a dissonant melody. As the angelic exorcist continued her struggle, a figure emerged from the shadows – a mysterious character, their presence felt more than seen.

This enigmatic figure, shrouded in darkness, approached Charlotte with a whispered urgency. "You hold the key to her liberation," the voice murmured, barely audible over the haunting notes of the violin. "Will you break the chains or become a spectator to her demise?"

Charlotte, conflicted and sensing a greater responsibility, looked at the shadowy figure, determination flickering in her eyes. With a newfound resolve, she turned towards the restrained exorcist, seeking a way to intervene and unravel the unsettling performance that had taken a dark turn. The coliseum, once a mere stage for entertainment, now stood witness to a moral crossroads where choices weighed heavily on the hearts of those present, and it was definitely making Charlotte contemplate her whole reason for being here.

Alastor's sharp warning reverberates through the air, his stern tone emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "Interruption during Madame's performance is ill-advised, my dear. It is best not to meddle in affairs beyond your understanding." he cautions, a hint of a threat underlying his words.

Rosie, with a more nurturing but firm approach, guides Charlotte back to her seat. "It's not the time, hon. Madame's got her ways, and we don't want trouble. Just watch and let it play out," Rosie advises, her gaze mirroring a subtle concern for Charlotte's safety.

As Charlotte reluctantly takes her seat, the tension in the coliseum persists, the haunting music and the struggling exorcist creating an eerie symphony that held everyone in a state of suspense. The shadowy figure lingers, observing the unfolding drama with a watchful gaze, leaving an air of mystery and uncertainty in its wake.

The resounding crash echoes through the coliseum as the angelic exorcist succumbs to the relentless chains, her divine form colliding with the unforgiving ground. The spectators, now silent witnesses to the spectacle's unsettling conclusion, feel the vibrations of the impact reverberate through the arena.

The once-beautiful performance has transformed into a scene of somber defeat, the ethereal music now hauntingly melancholic. The shadows that enshrouded the coliseum seem to deepen, casting an eerie gloom over the aftermath.

The mysterious figure in the shadows maintains a watchful presence, its intentions still unclear as the audience processes the unsettling turn of events. The coliseum, leaving an indelible mark on the collective psyche of those who bore witness. As the ethereal music slowly fades to silence, the chains metamorphose into spectral figures, gracefully carrying the defeated angel away. The abrupt stillness in the coliseum feels eerie, the aftermath of the performance leaving the guests, including Charlotte, in a state of uneasy reflection.

The band, once vivid and lively, dissipates like wisps of smoke, leaving an empty stage behind. Madame, now standing alone in the center of the coliseum, is joined by the largest shadow, a looming presence beside her. The shadowy figure addresses the hushed audience, explaining that they will be escorted back to Madame's home for dinner. "Ladies and gentlemen, the next act awaits within the walls of Madame's mansion. Your journey through her realm has only just begun.”

The guests, still processing the unsettling performance, are ushered towards their tables with a sense of quiet trepidation. The coliseum, now devoid of the vibrant spectacle, transforms into a place of anticipation as the guests prepare for the next act in Madame's enigmatic domain. Charlotte, visibly shaken, moves among the disquieted crowd. Zestial stands out, his calm demeanor contrasting with the collective unease. His eyes reveal a depth of understanding, leaving Charlotte to wonder what he really thought of the performance. As they return to Madame's home, the charged atmosphere persists, leaving everyone to ponder what awaits them in the next act of this mysterious and haunting night.

The shadows lead those seated privately with Madame through a mysterious portal, transporting them to a large, black room. The windows, tinted black from floor to ceiling, create an otherworldly aura. Bowls of floating fire cast dancing shadows around the room, adding an element of mystique. In the center stands an impressive dining table, crafted from black wood with matching black chairs adorned with white cushions.

White plates with a gold lining are meticulously arranged, each bearing a name card. The order mirrors the sequence in which the guests were initially invited: Alastor, Vox, Charlie, Velvet, Zestial, Carmilla, and Rosie. Three empty seats capture attention, the most prominent being the grand and ornate chair at the head of the table – undoubtedly Madame's seat.

However, two other unoccupied chairs add a layer of intrigue. One is positioned across from Madame, and the other is to her right. Vox, leaning casually against the black dining table, raises an eyebrow as he scans the unoccupied chairs. "So, did Madame forget to send out a couple more invites, or did she just not bother finding anyone else worth inviting?" His tone, dripping with casual disdain, prompts an involuntary eye twitch from Alastor and a scoff from Carmilla. The room is momentarily tense as the guests settle into their seats, the air thick with unspoken tension and the promise of an unconventional dining.

The large shadow materializes behind Madame's chair the moment everyone takes their seats. It speaks with a commanding presence,

"Madame will be joining you shortly, ensuring the guests are properly situated in the main dining hall. For now, you may all start with the drink of your choice."

As the shadow's words linger, the room is filled with the appearance of various drinks, each guest's preference seemingly anticipated. The other shadows swiftly deliver the beverages before seamlessly vanishing from view. In their place, a small orchestra emerges from the darkest corners of the room, ready to weave a musical tapestry that will accompany the unfolding feast.

The atmosphere in the black room remains charged with a sense of anticipation, the guests left to wonder about the mysteries that await in Madame's unconventional and enigmatic domain.

The anticipation peaks as the celestial display unfolds outside the tinted windows. Stars twinkle in the vast darkness, and constellations take shape, transforming the black room into a cosmic spectacle. The guests, mesmerized by the celestial scene, exchange awed glances.

”Oh this is so beautiful.” Charlotte says, glancing around at the stars.

In the midst of this ethereal backdrop, Madame makes her grand entrance. A sweeping gust of shadow accompanies her, like a cloak billowing in an unseen breeze. She moves gracefully, her silhouette weaving through the darkness, and steps into the room with an air of an almost royal confidence.

Madame wears an elaborate gown that seems to absorb and reflect the celestial light. Its deep, dark hues shimmer with a glow, adorned with intricate patterns that evoke the mysteries of the night sky, certainly fitting her specticle. Her presence commands attention, and a hushed silence falls over the room as the guests turn their gaze towards her.

A soft, melodic hum emanates from Madame, resonating with the orchestral tunes. The shadows, now at her command, align to form a fleeting silhouette of wings that unfurl and then disappear into the darkness. She takes her seat at the grand table, her eyes gleaming with a haunting form of excitement.

As Madame takes her seat, the celestial display beyond the windows intensifies, casting a glow over the dining room. The shadows, now intricately woven into ethereal patterns, dance along the walls, adding to the surreal atmosphere. With a graceful gesture, Madame signals the waitstaff shadows to present the first course. Exquisite dishes are unveiled, each a culinary masterpiece designed to tantalize the senses. Alastor’s eyes light up as his favorite dish is revealed — Jambalaya. Rich and spicy, it perfectly captures his love for bold and vibrant flavors.

Vox, always one for extravagance, is presented with Sushi. Delicate sushi rolls arranged like musical notes create a visual and auditory delight, harmonizing with each flavorful bite. Meanwhile, Velvet savors the spicy noodles on her plate, a cosmic array of ingredients adorning handmade noodles, reflecting her love for adventurous flavors.

Charlotte’s palate is delighted with the Harmony of Garden Greens, a vibrant salad showcasing fresh and wholesome ingredients. Zestial’s preference for refined flavors is indulged with a nice tender steak. Carmilla indulges in an enchanting dark Chocolate Fondue, a decadent dessert that mirrors her taste for the luxurious. Rosie, captivated by sweetness and charm, enjoys a stellar Strawberry Shortcake, a heavenly creation adorned with edible flowers. Rosie was grateful Madame hadn’t served her limbs this evening, though the craving was very much there.

As the guests savor their feast, Vox, unable to resist his penchant for stirring conversation, attempts to broach the topic of the enigmatic exorcist from Madame's previous performance. "Madame, that exorcist bit was quite the show, don't you think? Who was she, and why the dramatics?" Vox inquires with his signature flair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Though Alastor would never admit it, he was silently appreciative Vox was the one to voice the question. He knew Madame would have his head if he dared to ask. A large grin is displayed as he awaits Madame’s response. Knowing she is intolerant of being questioned on her decisions.

Madame, however, responds with a stern and unwavering gaze. "Vox, some matters are not for idle chatter. Rest assured, when the time is right, I will provide the explanation that is due." Her tone, though firm, carries a sense of ancient wisdom that tempers Vox's usual audacity. Alastor just grins to himself, happy she did not disappoint.

Carmilla, sensitive to the undercurrents of unease, feels a shiver down her spine. The cryptic response leaves her uneasy, but she keeps her feelings to herself. Madame's words hang in the air, a subtle reminder that there are depths to this realm that remain veiled. She is in control.

The aura intensifies as the orchestra weaves a haunting melody, adding an ethereal backdrop to the exchange. The guests, now caught in the delicate dance of shadows, flavors, and unspoken mysteries, await the unfolding of Madame's narrative. However, to their dismay, she leaves them empty handed.

The small orchestra adapts it’s tunes, complementing the dining room with melodies that resonate with the mysteries of Madame. The music sways between haunting and enchanting, guiding the guests through an experience that transcends the ordinary.

"I hope the food is to everyone's enjoyment," Madame remarks, her plate being set in front of her last. The guests, captivated by the transcendent feast, eagerly dig into their respective dishes. As the flavors unfold on their palates, a chorus of satisfaction fills the room.

“These are quite excellent.” Carmilla comments as she enjoys her meal. Madame only nods in response. Compliments flow freely from the guests to Madame and the shadows, expressions of delight escaping between bites. Alastor, savoring his Jambalaya, commends the bold and vibrant flavors.

The room resonates with the sounds of enjoyment, and Rosie, with the Strawberry Shortcake, receives nods of approval for the delightful sweetness. Madame, her strong composure unwavering, listens to the compliments with a hint of satisfaction. Everyone enjoys being praised.

As the melodies of the cosmos continue to weave through the air, the dining room becomes a mix of flavor and enchantment. The guests, immersed in the extraordinary experience, savor each moment, aware that this transcendent feast is not just a meal but the start to something haunting.

Things could not be peaceful forever though. Madame pushed back a bit and stood, immediately drawing everyone’s attention.

“I would like to thank you all for being such pleasant guests tonight. I do believe a lot has happened since the last extermination. I am aware you overlords, or the ones that had the decency to show up, are aware that we must do something to protect our souls. Which begs the question.” Madame stops, taking her time to look at everyone. “What do you plan to do when the exorcists come down here to kill you all?” She asks bluntly. Carmilla inhales sharply not saying much, which Zestial just sips a cup of tea, his usual. Alastor and Rosie exchange a glance, but before anyone can say anything, Vox interjects.

“Well Madame I think you’ll be pleased to know Vox-tech has been working on protection for the people and-“

“Do you really think a piece of technology will stop this?” Madame asks. Her eyes narrow at him, and Vox silently sinks into his seat. Madame sighs, her shadow pulling her chair farther back so she can walk around the table, to the empty seat across from her. “Since you all clearly have no clue what to do, I presume I’ll share my idea.” Madame says, before she snaps her fingers. In an instant, a large shadow, almost in the shape of a sphere, forms next to her. It’s whispy and hyperactive, almost alive, before it sinks to the ground. Slowly it’s fades away. The guests stand, wanting to get a closer look, before the shadow turns to fog, and falls away. There in it’s place is the exorcist from the coliseum.

“Madame-!” Carmilla says, but is met with a stern look from Madame.

“Something wrong?” She asked. A chain formed around the exorcists neck, one that wrapped around Madame’s hand. She holds it tight, like she’s holding a wild animal back. Velvet wonders if this is because she’s afraid, or excited.

“Go on. Speak.” Madame says to the girl next to her. She looks down at the ground, a bit bruised but shining brightly nevertheless.

“I do not wish-to fight.” The girl says, and Madame just smiles.

“Let her go.” Charlotte says. The overlords look at Charlotte with a surprised expression. Madame says nothing, and instead tilts her head to look at Charlotte.

“Let her go?” Madame repeats, and Charlotte nods.

“Yes. Let her go.” Charlotte says, suddenly feeling nervous. Madame doesn’t appear to be upset, which only confuses and makes Charlotte even more anxious.

“Very well then. Have it your way.” Madame says, dropping the chained leash. Suddenly, the exorcist flies up and lunges at Zestial, attacking him. The overlords all disperse, watching as he throws her off of him.

“No! Wait stop!” Charlotte says, trying to get the situation under control. Alastor’s eyes widen, and he grins, tentacles appearing from the ground quickly, attempting to scare her by attacking her wings. The moment his tentacle touches the feathers on her back, it burns, and Alastor pulls back immediately, seemingly confused. The room erupts in screams and chaos, Rosie attempting to get the exorcist away from her as she tries to kill her.

“My dear, you do realize the mess you’ve made, yes?” Alastor asks as he summons himself next to Madame. She stands by the windows, the starts casting an almost colorful display over her, making her seem ethereal. Madame nods.

“Well then maybe you should get Lilith’s pet under control.” Madame inquires. Alastor just grins, nodding before lifting her hand to kiss the back of it.

“Of course Madame.” He says, before fading into his shadow. Carmilla stands next to a tired Zestial, while Velvet and Vox stand on the dining table, holding onto each other for dear life, while Rosie takes to poking fun at the exorcist, who seems to only want to harm Charlotte at this point.

“You filthy girl-!” The exorcist cries, before she chokes, a black chain wrapping around her neck quickly, and pulling her back.

“Enough Evangeline.” Madame says sharply. At this, the exorcist grows quiet almost immediately. Charlotte is in tears and on the floor, Alastor picking her up by her underarms, setting her straight.

“This is why you be quiet.” Alastor whispered to Charlotte.

“Oh~ that was fun! Let’s do this again.” Rosie says delightfully. Madame just nods to her, an unreadable expression adorning her features.

“Yes, let’s.” Madame says, tugging Evangeline’s chain sharply. Evangeline stands, now looking a bit shorter than Madame, while Madame’s shadows remove Vox and Velvet from the dining table. Quickly, everything is back in order, as Madame ushers the guests to take their seats. Now, Evangeline sits at the head of the table, across from Madame.

“Everyone, this is Evangeline, my sister.”

“Sister?” Vox asks, shying away from the exorcist.

“Didn’t you hear her?” Velvet asks, nudging him with her elbow. He just nods, but says nothing.

“Yes. Sister. I’ve obtained her for one reason and that reason only.” Madame said, before Zestial interjected.

“What reason doth that be?” Zestial asks. Madame just smiles, with a snap of her fingers, Evangeline is turned around, wings sprawled out.

“To send a message of course.” Madame says. Before a paper is presented to all the guests.

“During the extermination I had the pleasure of speaking to Adam.”

”Wait Adam like, first man Adam?” Velvet asked, and Madame nods.

“Yes, him. He believes he can wipe us out fairly quickly. He said he’d be back for me specifically.” Madame said, looking out to the windows, before continuing. “So, I decided it would be best if we sent him a lovely letter. Charlotte,” Madame said, “I know you spoke to him recently. If he wants to come to your hotel, I believe it’s only right we make other areas just as much of a target.” Madame said, before Carmilla frowned.

”Why should we? Won’t that make us all targets?” Carmilla asked. Madame nodded.

“Yes, but with too many locations they’ll spread themselves thin.” Madame said.

“Why are we talking about this in front of her?” Rosie asked, pointing to Evangeline. “Won’t she just tell them what we’re planning?” Rosie asked. Madame shrugged.

”Possibly. I never said she was going back alive.” Madame said. “But this topic can wait. I’m ready for dessert.” She said, and suddenly shadows were back with all kinds of desserts in the middle of the table. Evangeline was now facing the rest of the guests, all who stared at her with a predatory gaze.

Y/n L/n was born in the year 1885, with her sister, Evangeline, arriving in 1887, just two years apart. Y/n was the eldest among her siblings, having two younger sisters and a younger brother. Sadly, the youngest sister passed away at the tender age of twelve, a victim to scarlet fever. Despite this tragedy, Evangeline remained the darling of the town, known for her innocence and beloved by all. Meanwhile, their brother Arthur matured at a quicker pace than Evangeline.

The family's prosperity stemmed from being victims of the Salem witch trials back in the 1600s. This dark history actually served as a catalyst, enabling their ancestors to establish a business that had been passed down through generations, making Y/n the rightful heir. Initially, the business catered to workers and provided scrubs, but Y/n had grander visions.

Under Y/n's leadership, the business transformed from producing simple workwear to crafting exquisite dresses, corsets, feathered hats, and other fashionable garments. These creations were designed to empower young women and elevate their sense of self-esteem, departing from the mundane work attire of the past.

As word spread of the boutique's exceptional offerings, affluent families began flocking to Y/n's establishment, seeking custom dresses and elegant accessories. Evangeline, always cheerful and accommodating, played a pivotal role in welcoming and attending to the guests while Y/n conducted business.

Despite the initial success and harmony, ominous clouds loomed on the horizon, signaling that peace and tranquility might not last forever.

Evangeline's heart fluttered whenever she was around Alexander, a charming and charismatic gentleman who frequented the boutique who was also from a wealthy family. Their budding romance seemed like a fairy tale at first, but little did Evangeline know, Alexander harbored hidden agendas. But Y/n could see it from a mile away. But alas, she let her younger sister be. She did not feel threatened by Alexander. To her, he was simply another walking wallet right into her arms.

As their relationship deepened, Alexander subtly planted seeds of doubt about Y/n in Evangeline's mind. He would gently question Y/n's decisions, pointing out areas where he believed Evangeline could excel if given more freedom.

"My darling Evangeline," Alexander would whisper, his voice dripping with honeyed words, "you're a diamond in the rough, waiting to shine. But Y/n's cautious approach is holding you back. Imagine what you could achieve with your own vision."

Evangeline, enamored and impressionable, began to see Y/n's protective actions as barriers to her dreams rather than safeguards for their family's legacy. Alexander's persuasive arguments fueled Evangeline's desire for independence and recognition.

"You deserve more than being just Y/n's shadow," Alexander would say, his eyes filled with feigned concern. "Don't let fear of failure hold you back. Take risks, Evangeline. Follow your heart."

Unaware of Alexander's ulterior motives, Evangeline started to view Y/n's guidance and decisions with skepticism. She began to prioritize her relationship with Alexander over the family's business, inadvertently straining her bond with Y/n.

As Alexander's influence grew, Evangeline's perception of Y/n shifted, painting Y/n as overly controlling and unsupportive of her aspirations. The once-close sisters found themselves on opposite ends, with Alexander's manipulative tactics driving a wedge between them.

Behind the facade of love and affection, Alexander manipulated Evangeline's emotions and perceptions, using her vulnerability to further his own agenda. The tangled web of romance and manipulation threatened to unravel the familial harmony Y/n had worked so hard to maintain.

One evening, as Evangeline sat in her room at the family estate, Alexander approached her with a concerned expression. "Evangeline, my love," he began, "I've noticed something troubling about Y/n's management of the business. It seems she's keeping you in the dark about important decisions."

Evangeline furrowed her brow, surprised by Alexander's revelation. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Alexander leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "I've heard whispers among the staff," he confided, "about Y/n making decisions behind your back, as if she doesn't trust you with the business's future. You deserve to have a voice, Evangeline. You shouldn't be kept in the dark."

Doubt crept into Evangeline's mind as she pondered Alexander's words. She had always trusted Y/n implicitly, but Alexander's claims sowed seeds of suspicion and resentment. "But Y/n has always had our family's best interests at heart," Evangeline countered weakly.

"Of course, my dear," Alexander reassured her, his tone soothing. "But perhaps Y/n fears that your ideas and vision might outshine hers. You're more than capable, Evangeline. Don't let anyone keep you from realizing your full potential."

In the following days, Alexander's subtle manipulation and peer pressure intensified. He highlighted instances where Y/n had made decisions without consulting Evangeline, portraying Y/n as controlling and domineering. "You're the future of this business, Evangeline," he would say, planting seeds of ambition and discord.

Fueled by Alexander's influence, Evangeline confronted Y/n during a heated family meeting about the business's direction. "Why are you keeping me in the dark, Y/n?" Evangeline demanded, her voice trembling with emotion. "I deserve to be involved in every decision!"

Y/n, taken aback by Evangeline's sudden hostility, tried to explain. "Evangeline, I've always valued your input, but some decisions require swift action. I never intended to keep you in the dark." Y/n would say sternly, trying to keep her composure.

But Alexander's words echoed in Evangeline's mind, clouding her judgment and fueling her resolve to assert herself in the business. The once-unbreakable bond between the sisters fractured under the weight of manipulation and misunderstandings, orchestrated by Alexander's cunning tactics.

Evangline’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she and Alexander stood before Y/n, their announcement hanging in the air like a storm about to break.

“We’re engaged, Y/n,” Evangeline exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. “And we believe it’s time for me to take over the business. After all, I’ll be married soon and would want to pass it down to our children someday.”

Y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief as Evangeline and Alexander stood before her, their engagement bombshell hanging heavily in the air. The room fell silent as Y/n processed the news, her shock palpable.

“You’re getting engaged without even discussing it with me first?” Y/n’s voice cracked with incredulity, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and hurt.

Evangeline, caught off guard by Y/n’s reaction, tried to explain. “Y/n, we thought you would be happy for us,” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

But Y/n’s shock quickly turned into frustration and anger. “Happy for you?” Y/n’s tone sharpened, her words laced with bitterness. “How can I be happy when you’re making decisions that affect our entire family without even consulting me?”

Evangeline’s expression faltered, her eyes filling with tears. “But Y/n, I love Alexander, and we want to build a future together,” she pleaded.

Y/n’s emotions boiled over, her hurt turning into harsh words aimed at Evangeline. “Love blinds you, Evangeline,” Y/n snapped, her voice rising. “You’re being manipulated, and you don’t even see it!”

Evangeline’s tears spilled over as Y/n’s words hit home. “I’m not being manipulated, Y/n,” she protested, her voice trembling.

But Y/n’s frustration didn’t stop there. Her gaze turned to Alexander, her tone dripping with disdain. “And you,” Y/n directed her anger at him, “using Evangeline to get to our family fortune, shamelessly preying on her innocence and trust.”

Alexander’s facade of charm faltered for a moment, his expression betraying a hint of unease. “I assure you, Y/n, my intentions are genuine,” he tried to placate her.

But Y/n wasn’t buying it. “Genuine? You’re nothing but a leech, Alexander,” Y/n’s words cut through the tension, her anger simmering beneath the surface. “I won’t let you manipulate our family for your selfish gain.”

As the tension escalates during the argument, Evangeline turns to Y/n, her eyes filled with confusion and hurt. “What do you mean, Y/n?” she asks, her voice trembling with emotion.

Y/n’s expression hardens, her resolve firm as she faces Evangeline. “The whole family can see it, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is resolute, her words cutting through the air. “Alexander is just after our money, and he’s using you to get to it.”

Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock, disbelief evident on her face. “No, that’s not true,” she protests, her voice tinged with desperation.

But Y/n doesn’t back down. “Open your eyes, Evangeline,” Y/n urges, her voice filled with urgency. “He drove Arthur away from you, manipulated him to keep you to himself. He’s tearing our family apart for his own selfish motives.”

The weight of Y/n’s words hangs heavily in the air, the truth of the situation sinking in for Evangeline amidst the chaos of emotions and accusations.

In response to Y/n’s accusations, Alexander turns to Evangeline with a dismissive smirk, his tone dripping with condescension. “Evangeline, Y/n is lying,” he asserts confidently. “She’s never been in love, so she wouldn’t even know what she’s talking about.”

Evangeline, torn between her trust in Alexander and the unsettling doubts planted by Y/n’s words, looks to him for reassurance. “But Alexander, I love you,” she insists, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

Alexander’s charm kicks into full gear as he takes Evangeline’s hand, his gaze filled with faux affection. “And I love you, my dear,” he replies smoothly. “Don’t let Y/n’s jealousy and lies cloud your judgment. We have a future together, away from all this drama.”

As the tension reaches its peak, Y/n’s resolve remains unyielding as she delivers a stark ultimatum to Evangeline. “If you choose to marry him, Evangeline, I will never speak to you again,” Y/n’s voice is firm, her words carrying the weight of finality. “You will be disowned from the family and removed from the business entirely.”

Evangeline’s eyes widen in shock and hurt, her voice barely above a whisper as she asks, “Why are you doing this to me, Y/n?”

Y/n’s expression softens for a moment, but her determination doesn’t waver. “I’m thinking of the family business, Evangeline,” Y/n’s tone is unwavering, her words laced with a mix of sadness and pragmatism. “I’m thinking of what will benefit us, not silly emotions like love that can be manipulated and used against us.”

The gravity of Y/n’s decision hangs heavily in the air, the rift between the sisters widening as Evangeline grapples with the harsh reality of Y/n’s ultimatum.

Evangeline's voice trembles with a mix of defiance and sorrow as she tells Y/n, "I'm going to marry Alexander anyway, Y/n." Her eyes reflect a sense of resignation, knowing the rift her decision will create between her and her sister.

Y/n receives the wedding invitation in the mail, her heart heavy as she reads Evangeline's words inviting them to the wedding. Despite the hurt in Evangeline's voice, Y/n remains steadfast in her decision not to attend, unwilling to condone a union she strongly opposes. This choice further deepens the rift between the sisters, leaving Evangeline feeling the pain of their absence on her special day.

“You don’t need her anyway.” Alexander says to Evangeline when she tells him how hurt she was her sibling did not show up.

In 1901, tragedy strikes as Evangeline dies during childbirth. The funeral is held, and Y/n, Arthur, and Evangeline’s only child, a son, attend. However, Alexander chooses not to attend and sends his son with the nanny instead. Y/n isn’t surprised, but she did debate going to their estate to tell Alexander how much of a horrible husband he was.

In 1915, Y/n tragically dies from poisoning due to alcohol. The family faces yet another loss, marking the end of an era filled with turmoil and strained relationships. Arthur is the last sibling left, the head of the business, and serves out his life fulfilling Y/n’s visions, making her the face of the family name forever.

“You always did only worry about yourself.” Evangeline thought to herself as she began her dessert.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin charlie #hazbin demon #alastor #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #vox x reader #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #yandere vox x reader #yandere vox #alastor vs vox #isuckatwritingsobenice infernal shadows #isuckatwritingsobenice

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headspace-hotel · 1 year ago

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Today I saw a liverwort for the first time!

I stood and watched a little heron perched on a tree and saw the most brilliant, jewel-like metallic blue and green dragonfly with wings the velvety black of the night sky.

The ironweed is blooming in rich royal purple, jewelweed in vivid orange, wingstem in bright sunny yellow, and cardinal flower in unbelievably vivid scarlet. Yellow goldenrod, magenta phlox, white Virginia clematis. Meadows and streambanks along the hiking trails are rainbowed with wildflowers. I appreciate wildflowers individually, but placed together their bright colors are a whole other tier or beauty.

There's a spot with a little meadow full of milkweed and the monarch butterflies have a breathless majesty that never goes away no matter how often I see one.

Walking home I heard a chorus of frogs and stopped for a while to listen to them.

Somehow I'm most excited by far about the liverwort.

#nature #ALIVE!#plants #creatures

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taavisplushies · 2 years ago

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Name: Aphrogdite

Pronouns: she/her

Brand: Ganz/Webkinz

Where she’s from: a local thrift store

Design notes: The spots are all hearts!

Fun facts: She’s named after the ancient Greek Goddess of love and beauty: Aphrodite.

#aphrogdite #she/her #webkinz #ganz #thrift store #plush #plushies #frog #pink #hearts #spotted #introduction #valentines #red #white #purple

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herpsandbirds · 6 months ago

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White-spotted Bug-eyed Frog aka Warty Tree Frog (Theloderma albopunctatum), family Rhacophoridae, Bangladesh

This small frog utilized ‘bird poop’ mimicry to keep from being eaten by predators.

photograph by Adnan azad asif

#tree frog #theloderma #bug eyed frog #frog #rhacophoridae #amphibian #herpetology #animals #nature #asia

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indiweb · 4 months ago

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⠀⠀ ⠀ 𐚁ྀ I WANNA DRINK UNTIL I ACHE ? ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ sukuna ⋆ geto ⋆ nanami ⋆ toji ⋆ shiu

⠀ ⠀⠀ " jjk men testing out their favorite kinks on you. "

<– [ BACK ] : HOME [ NEXT ] : MLIST ㅤ→

明示的 ⌇ nsfw. fem!reader. doggystyle & breast groping. missionary & finger sucking. pronebone & bondage. multiple orgasms. leap frog & mirror fücking. full nelson & overstimulation. man handling. ( wc. 2k )

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⭒

⍟ RYŌMEN SUKUNA ◞ ───── missionary & finger sucking.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" f— fuckkk , just like that , baby. " his strained and husked tone had chills radiating down your spine , back arching off the memory foam mattress he was currently pounding you into. your legs were firmly wrapped around his waist , limbs growing loose at any given moment he curled his hips and bucked right in that oh-so sweet spot of yours he knew all too well.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your walls clenched around his pulsating girth like a pray mantis to her lovers head. the sensation was eradicating. you could feel every inch of him , figuratively and literally , the man likewise. all he could simply do with each thrust he slammed against your thighs , was utter the same phrase over and over again ; " ya feel s'fuckin' good , love. "

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀each hip snap. each contorted breath. each sweat bead that trickled down sukuna’s ever so toned body , it all led up to him hovering over you. two of his digits were shoved into your mouth , your plump lips lining the base of them as your sopping juices coated your throat. he wanted you to taste yourself. to see just how addicting you could be , that it drove him mad. it didn’t help that you were sustaining gags from the length of his thick fingers , every movement he made causing his fingertips to brush against the back of your neck.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the pads of his fingers put pressure on your tongue , your eyes that were already seeing the white tunnel rolling back even further whilst you arched your back towards his chest. succumbing to his touch was one thing , but melting into nothing but an erotic whining mess was another. it only fueled the man’s already enlarged ego even more. he loved watching how you took every centimeter of him in that tight cunt of yours. how you smothered him in your essences from both ends. it was all so euphoric for sukuna.

⍟ SUGURU GETŌ ◞ ───── doggystyle & breast grōping.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀everyone knows that phrase ; face down , ass up. well , you’d be the embodiment of said phrase with how suguru was arching your back , almost snapping like a twig. each buck against your ass had pin needles decorating your smooth skin. it sent you overboard , jaw entirely unhinged with nothing but raw sounds of genuine ecstasy traveling out.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his sleek , yet tender fingers kneaded the flesh of your breasts , hiccups itching after every ragged breath you took. the solidity of your nipples only edged suguru to fondle them more , the thick of your lashes fluttering with ease. the way his skilled digits massaged your flesh felt like you were riding through the clouds , weaving into the sensation of his leaking tip prodding at the entrance of your womb.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀how he filled you up entirely was brain-numbing. stomach-churning. gut-wrenching , even. the veins that traveled along his base rubbed you off perfectly , whines and cries of mercy interlocking with the jaw dropping moans that radiated from your mouth. " ya like being touched like this , huh? how adorable , " his words were leering , the gears in your head turning with each vowel that was stated.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his hot breath fanned your neck like a scorching summer evening , the sweat coaxing your skin only worsening the endurance as you bared his warmth. whilst he continued to ravage your body as if his life depended on it , all you could simply do was enjoy every last second of it. your mind grew cold and body fell numb to his touch , whimpers following behind each melancholy grasp he made against your flesh. it was rough yet so endearing simultaneously , it drove you crazy.

⍟ TOJI FUSHIGURO ◞ ───── leap frog & mirror fücking.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀it never occurred to you how undeniably hot you looked while being folded clean over , and pounded into from behind. how distinct your own back-arch was. the sight was alluding , your droopy eyes getting lost in the reflection of toji abusing every aspect of your pleading , yet dripping cunt. you could visibly see the hand prints he engraved along the layers of raw flesh on your ass , his fingertips dancing along them and sending stinging sensations to shoot all down your spine.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his thighs clapping against your own not only sent your body jolting with every thrust , but had your mouth unable to stay closed. it’d fall open ajar with vaguely inaudible noises spilling out all over the place. the air was thick , moisture polluting it from the mixture of body movement and his ragged voice alluring you with each remark he made about your state of mind.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ " how cute , ya can’t even watch yourself properly , " he’d mock with a trailing ass slap following shortly behind. you were incapable of even murmuring out a cry , grumbles and babbles being the only sufficient way you could respond to his dick opening you up wider than a balloon.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the pillow that soaked up the remains of your bodily fluids rested diligently beneath your chin , arms folded across with a merciless grip teething at the seams. it was the most untainted thing in the room , your body falling victim to toji and his belligerent ways of making every crevice of your being contort into unsustainable pleasure.

⍟ SHIU KONG ◞ ───── full nelson & overstimulation.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀your legs ached more than ever , toes stuck in a prolonged curled position from the state of your body. your own hands were delving into the flesh of your thighs whilst your upper body was squished together like a pretzel. despite shiu’s hands holding your neck in place , the aggression that laced into each thrust he gave caused not only your head to thrash around , but your eyes to flutter vigorously.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you’d beg him to slow down , to tone his aggression , yet the euphoria that tediously crept up your spine only dispersed through the pumping veins of your aching body with each thrust he made. your mind felt like jello ; leaking all over the place after being left out in the beating summer heat , especially with the way your skin stuck together from the intense sweat layers that coated all over. all you could hear was a ringing sound in your ear that lowered at any given moment he muttered those endearing , yet vile words in your ear.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ " c’mon , love , cover me in your juices. i want to endure every last bit of you. " it was disgusting ; any sane person would think , though you couldn’t help but feel your insides knot together like some sort of ballon animal. you couldn’t respond back , a some-what haze of ecstasy eating away at the remains of your brain. or , what left you could use of it from the rest succumbing to his wrath.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀in comparison , you felt as if you were a sort of sex doll. being so lost out of your mind , you just accepted it and allowed shiu to slide his girthy erection through your slick folds after every orgasm that leaked out of you. it didn’t matter if it were five , or fifteen , you lost count after the first three. and , to be frank , you couldn’t perceive time with how nothing but pure babbles mumbled through your parted lips.

⍟ KENTO NANAMI ◞ ───── pronebone & bondage.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀typically , being restrained in any form , or way , would give you anxiety. it’d make you feel as if your chest was caving it whilst the walls crumbled down all around you. like if you were to try and break free , it’d be the last thing you do. the last sufficient breath your body would be able to take. that feeling haunted your dreams , lingering in the shadows like some monster.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀though , with kento , it was like you were suffocated by not only his intense love and admiration for you. but was overwhelmed by his affection that the thought of him binding your limbs together sent a sort of friction between your legs. just the image of him using his tie to hold you in place as he rammed his thick erection down your throat was a worldly experience.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀however , it wasn’t as obscene as kento doing exactly as you wished while having you sprawled out , face down on the cloud-foam mattress you two shared. the purple cylinder pillow that completed your bedset was shoved beneath your abdomen , positioning your ass at an angle just perfectly for him to hit all of your sensitive sweet spots and have you drooling profusely all over the duvet covers. your forearms were tied firmly behind your back as he used it to guide his thrusts. it was nerve-racking in the beginning but ultimately succumbed to the pleasure of his nails delving into the raw flesh of your ass.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his dick stretched you out like no man before. you weren’t even sure you’d be able to take all of it at first , yet his soothing words of affirmation had chills spiraling down your back as your eyes rolled further with every inch he slid through your sopping folds. " jus' like that darlin' , you’re doing so well for me , " his gentle , caring tone assured you that he’d treat you well. and , that’s exactly what he did. the pleasure was overpowering your fear by the time he began the second round , your body in for a night of nothing but genuine rapture.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⭒

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eternaldecisions · 3 months ago

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˙ . ꒷ slytherin!matt . 𖦹˙—

slytherin ! matt spots you at a party.

"Are you sure I should go to that party? I mean..." the words hang in the air, your hesitation palpable. The idea of the party itself wasn’t dreadful; it was what—or rather, who—you might stumble into that made you hesitate. The very thought of running into Matt sent a shiver down your spine. You opened your mouth to say his name, but before you could, Sarah cuts in, her voice a sharp contrast to your uncertainty.

"Please! It’s going to be fun, I swear. I’ll stick by your side the whole time," she promises with a grin that you recognize all too well. You wanted to believe her, but you knew better. The moment she caught sight of Regulus Black walking thru the door, the promise would dissolve faster than mist in the morning sun. Still, a small part of you clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, this time she’d keep her word.

“And then, what should I wear?” you sigh, your voice carrying the weight of resignation. Your wardrobe isn’t exactly brimming with choices, and the thought of rifling through the same old options feels as tiresome as the decision itself.

Sarah, as the fashion enthusiast she, lights up at the question. "Let’s go for something that screams 'effortlessly cool,'” she suggests, already pulling ideas out of thin air. “How about those black plain skirt you love? Pair them with that silky white green top—it’ll make your eyes pop. And those ankle boots with the silver buckles? Perfect balance between edgy and chic.”

you picture it in your mind: the way the white would contrast against the dark material, how the boots would give you that extra edge of confidence. Suddenly, the idea of the party doesn’t seem quite so daunting.

the music thrums through the air, vibrating against your eardrums—louder than you'd prefer, but not unbearable. It’s a Hogwarts party, after all, and despite your initial reservations, it’s not as bad as you’d imagined. The Great Hall has been transformed into a pulsing sea of lights and sound, the usual grandeur swapped for a more chaotic energy that somehow suits the occasion.

tables are laden with a array of food—everything from pumpkin pasties to chocolate frogs—and a few scattered bottles of butterbeer and beers, a tame selection considering the strict no-hard-liquor rule for students. Not as that stops the Slytherins, you spot a few of them huddled in a corner, undoubtedly plotting their next heist from the staff’s private stash. But that’s a problem for another time.

“I’m going to grab us drinks, alright?” you say, your voice a little more confident than you feel. You make your way to the long, enchanted table draped with a velvet cloth that shimmers like the night sky. On it, bottles of Butterbeer, pumpkin juice, and goblets of ice-cold pumpkin water are laid out, each drink sparkling under the floating candles that light up the Great Hall. You pick a goblet of pumpkin water for yourself and a frothy Butterbeer for Sarah—simple, but comforting.

as you reach for the drinks, your eyes wander, almost by instinct, to a corner of the hall where Matt stands. He’s draped in a black oversized hoodie, the silver horse pendant hanging from his neck catching the soft light, his black baggy pants and boots give him a rebellious edge that you can’t help but notice. You find yourself staring a second too long, admitting, despite your efforts to resist, that he’s not just good-looking—he’s more than that.

you find yourself drawn in, unable to look away, as if a spell has been cast upon you.

his eyes, sharp and almost hypnotic, suddenly catch yours. A jolt of panic rushes through you—how long have you been staring? Blood rushes to your cheeks, the warmth of embarrassment spreading as you realize you've been caught. His lips curl into a smirk, one that’s as much a challenge as it is an invitation. With deliberate steps, he begins to close the distance between you, his presence growing more potent with every inch.

the air seems to thicken as he approaches, the ambient magic of Hogwarts itself reacting to the silent tension. As he draws near, you can almost feel the energy radiating off him, a subtle mix of mischief and something deeper, something that pulls you in even as it warns you to stay away. His eyes never leave yours, and that smirk, oh, that smirk, it tells you everything and nothing all at once.

“How nice seeing you again, starer,” he murmurs, his voice a velvet drawl, smooth yet edged with teasing. He steps closer, far too close, the space between you shrinking to nothing. You roll your eyes at his comment, trying to mask the flutter of nerves his proximity forming within you.

“Does the cat always bite your tongue around me, sweetheart?” he mocks, his tone light but laced with something deeper, something that sends a shiver down your spine. With a practiced ease, he reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your skin just long enough to make you tense.

annoyance flares within you, and you swiftly bat his hand away, breaking the brief contact. His touch lingers in your thoughts even as it leaves your skin. He chuckles, a dry, knowing sound that only deepens your frustration. The sound seems to echo in the quiet corridor, a reminder of the power he holds in these fleeting moments.

but beneath that chuckle, there’s something else—a challenge, a dare hidden in his eyes as he watches you, waiting for your next move.

you steady yourself, refusing to let him get under your skin any further. With a dirty look, you meet his gaze, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you reply, "I'm sorry, did you say something worth responding to?”

his smirk falters just for a moment, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes before he recovers. “Feisty today, aren’t we?” he remarks, clearly amused by your defiance. But there's a spark of something else in his eyes now, curiosity, or maybe respect.

You cross your arms, standing your ground as you add, "I’m just not in the mood for your games, so if you’re looking for entertainment, you’ll have to find it somewhere else."

for a second, he studies you, as if reassessing the situation, the tension between you simmering just beneath the surface. Then, with a low chuckle, he steps back slightly, giving you a sliver of space. “You’re a tough one, I’ll give you that,” he concedes, though the playful gleam in his eyes tells you he’s far from done. “But don’t think I’m letting you off that easily.”

his words hang in the air, a promise or a threat—you can’t quite tell. But as he turns to leave, that smirk still playing on his lips, you can’t shake the feeling that this is far from over.

you stand there for a moment, watching him walk away, the echo of his footsteps fading down the corridor. His parting words linger in your mind, swirling like a potion brewing with too many unknown ingredients.

but you’re not one to let things slide so easily. You take a deep breath, your resolve hardening as you call out after him, your voice clear and steady. “If you think this game of yours is going to get you anywhere, you’re sorely mistaken.”

he stops mid-step, slowly turning back to face you, his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. It’s clear he didn’t expect you to push back, at least not so quickly. You can see the calculation in his eyes, the way he’s weighing his next move.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his tone teasing, but there’s a hint of something more serious beneath it now. “You think this is just a game?”

you step forward, refusing to let him regain the upper hand. “I think you like toying with people. But I’m not here to play along.”

for a moment, there’s a silence between you, thick with unspoken challenges. Then, to your surprise, his smirk softens into something almost genuine—almost.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits, his voice lower now, more thoughtful. “But it seems to me, you’re just as interested in the outcome as I am.”

you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat. There’s something in his gaze that’s different, something that makes you pause. It’s not just arrogance or amusement anymore, it’s curiosity, a genuine interest that catches you off guard.

he waits, as if daring you to deny it. But instead, you meet his gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “Don’t mistake my curiosity for anything more than it is,” you reply, your voice firm. “I don’t play by your rules.”

his eyes glint with that familiar mischief again, but there’s a new respect there, too. “We’ll see about that.”

with those final words, he turns and walks away, but this time, it feels less like a retreat and more like a promise—one that you’re not entirely sure you’re ready for, but one you know you won’t be able to resist.

as your gaze follows him, lingering on the spot where he disappears around the corner, you barely notice Sarah slipping up beside you until she speaks.

“Hey—the drinks!” she chirps, her voice pulling you back to reality. You blink, shaking off the lingering thoughts as you turn to face her.

“Sorry, got a little distracted,” you say, forcing a smile as you give her one. You can still feel the tension from the encounter thrumming in your veins, but you push it down, trying to focus on the warmth of the drink in your hands.

Sarah tilts her head, her brow furrowing as she follows your gaze to the now-empty corridor. “Distracted by what? Or should I say, by who?” she teases, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Let me guess, someone from Slytherin?”

you let out a light laugh, trying to brush it off. “It’s nothing, really. Just some…annoying conversation.”

“Annoying, huh?” Sarah raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Well, whoever it was, they’ve definitely got you all riled up. Should I be worried?”

“Worried? No,” you reply, shaking your head, though you can’t quite banish the image of that smirk from your mind. “Just…caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Sarah takes a sip of her butterbeer, her eyes still studying you curiously. “Well, whoever it is, just remember: don’t let anyone mess with you, okay? Especially not some smug Slytherin.”

you smile, her words bringing some much-needed reassurance. “I won’t, promise.”

“Good,” she says, clinking her goblet lightly against yours. “Now, let’s get back to the common room before Filch decides we’re breaking curfew again.”

as you walk away, side by side with Sarah, you can’t help but glance back one last time, the faint echoes of your earlier encounter still playing at the edges of your thoughts. He has you in a trance, and you can’t deny ir.

a/n: i have no idea if this is good sorry baes

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