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linopls · 6 months

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kinktober day seventeen

threesome 3racha x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v, so much praise, overstimulation 1.5k words

“god, you’re so pretty, y/n.”

“you’re so good for us.”

“baby, you’re doing so well.”

the praises kept pouring from their mouths. you could barely make out whose voice belonged to who. the only factual information you knew was that you were propped up against chan, your back against his front, and he had one of his muscular arms wrapped around your middle and his beautiful painted fingers were toying with your clit.

you knew jisung was lying on his stomach in front of you, tongue lapping at your hole like a starved man. his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, preventing your hips from moving. every so often he would part from your core to leave small hickeys on your inner thighs.

you knew changbin was to your right, his lips attached to your neck and upper chest. you would moan every time his teeth would sink into your skin and you knew that for the next week you would have to wear turtlenecks. you could also see, vaguely and from the corner of your eye, changbin palming himself through his basketball shorts.

“still okay?” chan whispers into your left ear.

you nod. you were more than okay. when your loving boyfriend chan invited you over today, explicitly stating that hyunjin was out of the dorm, you knew the events that would be going down and you could hardly focus on the road on the drive over.

you had fooled around with jisung and changbin before, a year or two ago, prior to your relationship with chan. last week chan asked which of the three of them was best in bed and you replied:

“it’s been too long to even remember. my rankings would be biased and inaccurate.”

to which chan replied:

“let’s refresh your memory soon then.”

so now your current job is to be taking mental notes and presenting with a ranking when the event has finished. but you could hardly remember your own name, let alone who is favorable in bed. you would be astonished if you were fucked so stupid that you could remember the order in which they did you.

“good.” you can hear the cheesy smile in chan’s voice. “binnie, do you want to go first, since you were first in y/n.”

changbin erupts into laughter and even jisung chuckles into your pussy, the vibrations making you moan.

“of course,” changbin smiles, lifting his neck from the crook of your neck and placing one sweet kiss to your lips.

“jisung, move,” chan snaps, trying to pry jisung’s head away from your cunt with his free hand.

jisung looks up from your pussy panting. his eyes glossy and filled with lust, a look you haven’t seen in a year. he takes one more lick, from your dripping hole to just where chan’s fingers meet your clit.

“i’m sorry,” he says, out of breath. “she just tastes so good.”

“we know,” changbin and chan say in unison.

“you’re next, ji” chan says.

“yeah, it’s my turn,” changbin giggles, almost lifting up jisung and moving him to your left side.

changbin balances himself on his knees between your legs, his muscular thighs parting your legs so easily. he pulls his shorts down just far enough to free his cock from the restraints. the sight makes your mouth water. the sinful acts you will be indulging in with one of your past flings, while your boyfriend holds you so close makes your brain go numb.

“are you ready, baby?” changbin asks as presses his tip against your entrance. chan uses the two fingers that were circling your clit to spread your lips for changbin.

“mhm,” you nod.

changbin very slowly pushes himself inside you. you had forgotten how thick his cock was. he was shorter than chan, but much thicker. the stretch burns as causes tears to form in your eyes but its also incredibly pleasurable and your hips move up to meet his.

when changbin bottoms out, chan moves his hand up to your mouth and you eagerly take them in your mouth. you pan your eyes over to jisung, whose mouth is slightly agape as he’s knelt next to you. he’s gently palming himself through his sweats.

as chan’s fingers explore your mouth, you gaze back and forth between the two boys in front of you. chan removes his fingers and moves them back down to your clit, pinching the bud a couple times before returning to rubbing circles and figure eights.

changbin begins to move his hips faster, he wraps his hands under your thighs and gently pushes back on them. the new angle has you seeing stars and reaching your high embarrassingly quick.

“binnie, please!” you cry. “gonna cum. keep going.”

“you’re doing so well, love,” chan whispers into your ear, his voice sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“fuck,” changbin groans, throwing his head back in pleasure.

you take hold of chan’s forearm with one of your hands and dig your nails into his skin. you reach your other hand out to one of jisung’s thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats, trying to ground yourself as changbin brings you over the edge.

“cumming!” you whine, back fully arching off of chan’s front and your head laying back on his shoulder. your hold on his forearm is probably strong enough to draw blood and rip the fabric of jisung’s sweats.

“that’s it, pretty girl,” chan coos.

changbin is quick to finish as well, spilling his seed inside of you. chan continues to rub circles on your clit, overstimulating you, until you're begging for a break.

changbin slides out and jisung is quick to replace him. looking for your approving nod before pushing himself inside you. the squelching noises of your own arousal and changbin’s release sounds so errotic, you feel as though you could cum from the sound alone.

jisung grabs hold of your hips to balance himself and begins to move. jisung isn’t as thick as changbin, but he’s slightly longer, reaching spots that changbin couldn’t reach. you wiggle your hips down to try and feel more of him.

“my god,” jisung groans, quickening his pace. changbin’s cum acting as a lube, making it easy for jisung to drill into you.

“so pretty,” chan chuckles, moving his fingers back down to rub your clit again. the feeling of oversensitivity makes you squirm in their grasps.

changbin uses one of his hands to press down on your lower stomach, in part to hold down your squirming body but to also help apply more pressure. you whine at the feeling of a second orgasm quickly forming.

“feel good, baby?” changbin asks, moving his thumb back and forth over your stomach.

you nod profusely. cries and moans pouring from your mouth, begging jisung to let you release all over him.

“let go, baby,” jisung moans. “please cum for me.”

your release is one of the most intense ones you’ve had in a while. your vision going hazy and your hearing cutting out for a second. when you come back to your senses, your legs shaking. chan is no longer behind you, but on his knees over top of you.

jisung is still to your left, but holding a bottle of water.

“you okay, baby doll?” he asks, helping you sit up and place the water bottle to your lips.

you nod and chan slides his hands gently up and down your thighs.

“you did amazing for us, love,” chan says softly.

“so, so, so good.” one of changbin’s hands come up to rub your back.

“do you think you can do one more? for me?” chan asks, gently spreading your legs by your knees.

you nod and the two other boys help you lay flat against the bed as chan lines himself up with your entrance. his slow push inside of you burns, he’s about as thick as changbin but with the same length as jisung. he hits all of the spots you didn’t even know you had. the slide in is easy, prepped by the two boys before him.

jisung and changbin lay on either side of you and pressed soft and gentle kisses to your face, neck, and chest. one of jisung’s hands slide down to your clit to rub small shapes on the overstimulated bud. you’ve lost all strength to move, but you moan and cry out as your handsome boyfriend begins his assault on your used pussy.

“that’s my pretty girl. always doing so good for me,” chan praises, his thick cock sliding smoothly against your walls.

“channie,” you cry.

“you can, baby,” he purrs, “i know you’re tired so whenever you want to.”

it’s like he can read your mind. he moves his hips a bit faster, not enough to ruin you for a third time, but just enough to make you feel like your on Cloud 9.

“cum with me, please,” you say with what strength you had left.

“of course,” he says with a cheesy smile.

you close your eyes and let your third orgasm wash over you. you back arches up and both chan and jisung gently work you through it. changbin mumbles words of encouragement against your skin.

the last thing you remember hearing before letting the exhaustion overtake your body was jisung asking:

“so who was the best?”

i'm a simp for 3racha don't talk to me

also if u saw this without pictures, no you didn't

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thestoryofusstan · 2 months

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Uptown Girl

pairing: fashion designer!harry x younger!fashion designer!reader

summary: you’re working in a designer boutique, and just so happen to have a late entrance when world-renowned designer harry styles visits for a collaboration. he seems to take a liking to you, and you aren’t sure if that makes you relieved or more anxious

warnings: some cursing, not edited as usual

harry styles was a well-known name. ceo and founder of pleasing, a nail polish and perfume company. he also owned many other companies, but really, there were too many to keep track of. he was also, most importantly, one of the biggest fashion icons.

you were very familiar with him— had saved up every penny when you were younger to buy a pleasing perfume and now owned a very small collection of their nail polishes.

so, of course, you lost your shit when you found out he’d be coming into your job.

you were a fashion design major at nyu, and had gotten a job at a very esteemed designer (not one of the name brands, but still). although you did expect the job to have more opportunities to.. actually design fashion, you were still grateful nonetheless.

it was just your luck that the day that harry styles was coming in, you were late. it wasn’t your fault! really, it wasn’t! you were always on time because you got anxious at the mere thought of being late.

by the time you parked, you practically ran to the store, silently praying you wouldn’t break a leg as you were running in heels.

“i’m not late am i?” you ask breathlessly as you finally enter the store, fixing your hair and outfit.

you had curled your hair the night before, so they were still pretty much intact. your outfit consisted of black heels, brown dress pants, and a black, tight-fitting turtleneck.

“yes, y/n. you are late,” your boss gave you a look, and you knew you’d be in trouble. “mr. styles, i am so sorry. our employs are.. usually punctual.”

your head snaps over to look in the direction she was talking, and your heart drops when you make eye contact with harry styles.

great.

“mr. styles, i am so sorry,” you apologize.

“it’s perfectly alright,” he gives a kind smile.

that makes you feel a bit better.

“y/n, a word in my office please.”

you deflate as you look back to your boss and follow her to her office

the second the door is closed, she’s chewing you out.

“how unprofessional can you be? i know you are in college, but jesus christ!”

“i’m sorry! there was so much traffic, and my car is so old it stops working if i go faster than 50, and—“

“i don’t need excuses,” she cuts you off. “i need you to be more professional.”

you inhale, “i am sorry, but it was not my fault. i have never once been late before, and you know that. it was a one-time mistake.”

“it better be.”

she walks out and slams the door to the office, leaving you alone in there.

you look up to the ceiling as you bite your lip and try not to cry.

after taking a few minutes to collect yourself, you walk back out into the otherwise empty store and slap a smile on your face.

you do your usual tasks of tidying the store and fixing the mannequins.

mr. styles, his team, and your boss (her name was diane but she was more like satan) were all working on sketching designs and throwing some fabrics onto the mannequins to get a rough idea of what they wanted.

“i don’t know if i like it,” mr. styles murmurs, staring at the mannequin. you glace over at it and have to force yourself to not make a face.

no shit, he didn’t like it. it was bad.

the sketch was good, but the color combination was all wrong and the whole thing was too.. chunky. in the way that everything was flowy and baggy, so it had no shape.

“well, what do you not like about it?” diane asks.

“i’m not sure. it doesn’t look quite right.”

“you have to fix the shape,” you say to yourself as you fix the files of custom orders to be done.

“what was that?”

your head snaps up, and you realize he heard you.

“oh. uh.. i was just—“

“talking to herself,” diane interrupts, glaring at you. “she’s an intern. don’t mind her.”

“no, i’d like to hear what she has to say. might have the answer to our issue. let’s hear it— what was your name again?”

“y/n l/n,” you squeak out.

“well, y/n, what do you think is wrong?”

you hesitantly walk over, “well.. i can see the idea. but it’s just not.. executed well. the whole thing is too flowy.”

“isn’t the point for it to flow?” he asks, raising a brow.”

“it is,” you answer quickly, “but.. there has to be something that isn’t as.. baggy, i suppose. something has to be tight-fitting. it doesn’t have any shape. it just kinda.. looks like a box.”

he stares at you for a moment, and diane clears her throat.

“y/n, this is time for the professionals. get back to—“

“no, diane. she is.. she’s right. it does need shape.”

at his words, the people around him begin to pin it differently.

“and the colors,” you rush out. “the colors don’t.. it’s supposed to be a statement piece, right?”

“that’s the goal,” he nods.

“well.. the colors are too.. light. they’re more pastel, which is fine, but for it to really be a statement, it’s better to use brighter ones. or at least make one of them brighter. i would.. i think make the base the brighter one.”

diane looks ready to kill you.

mr. styles laughs, “well, don’t you know a lot? diane, where did you find her? wish my interns knew half as much as her.”

your face grows hot.

“she’s a student,” diane sighs.

“a student?” he asks.

“i… uh.. i study fashion at nyu. fashion design— i’m in my last year.”

he seems to sense that you're damn near about to shit your pants, because he grins at you (slightly patronizing, but also kind), before turning back to diane.

"i'd like her to be with me for the rest of the project. y/n, darling, how much are y'makin' here?"

your stutter, "uh--... $15 an hour."

he tuts his tongue like that's horrible, "i'll pay.. ten times that while y'workin' with me."

your eyes widen, "wh-- that's not-- you don't have to--"

"nonsense. it's what most people i work with start with. i'll up it if needed, of course. and you obviously don't have to, but i'd love your insight."

"i-- no, i-- i'd love to, i.."

"great," he grins, and you're extremely dizzy. what the hell was going on?

"uh.. mr. styles, if i may give my opinion," diane pipes up.

"you may," he eyes her skeptically.

"y/n is a student. she's still learning, and she's never worked on anything here. it's very risky to--"

he cuts her off by asking you a question, "have you designed things? sketched 'em out and all that?"

you nod.

"i'd hope you've also done the whole... actually sewing things together and really making them?"

you nod again.

he turns back to diane, "seems like she's got experience," he looks back to you, "do y'have photos of any of those?"

"yeah-- they're.. i think i left them in my car. i have photos on my phone."

"we'll meet later to look at all that, then. i'll give you my number later. for now.. i'd like your input on our other ideas."

for the rest of the day, you follow harry around, and you sort of feel like a lost puppy just following him around and answering when he asks something of you.

after a while, you got more comfortable giving your input without being prompted, but you always tiptoed around what you were really trying to get at in fear that you'd anger him.

at the end of day, he put your number in his phone with the promise that he'd text you later about more details.

the text came three days later.

From: (Maybe): Harry

Hello, Y/N. This is Harry. Would you be free to meet tomorrow at noon to discuss the details of the project? Please bring your sketches and any photos of designs you've done, and anything else you feel necessary.

To: Harry Styles

Hi! I should be free tomorrow, yeah. Where do you want to go?

From: Harry Styles

I'll let you decide.

To: Harry Styles

There is this one coffee shop named Maman?

Sent Location: 239 Centre St, New York, NY

From: Harry Styles

Alright. I'll see you tomorrow, Y/N. Have a nice rest of your day.

To: Harry Styles

You too!

you spend the rest of your night fretting about what to wear. you were stuck in between classy but not too fancy, but also not too casual. comfy, but not so comfy that you looked like you didn't give a shit. but also not so uncomfortable that you were, well, uncomfortable, and looked like you were trying too hard.

you'd eventually settled for something simple. long, light-wash denim skirt, a plain black top, and some mary janes. you tied some of your hair back with a white ribbon, did some natural makeup, and called it a day.

you got to the coffee shop at 11:45 and ordered your drink, as well as a chocolate croissant.

harry walked in at exactly 12:00, and grinned when he saw you sitting at a table, scrolling on your phone with a manilla folder and sketchbook beside you.

really, you can't blame him! you were pretty, he'd have to be blind to not know that. and really, you weren't that much younger than him.

he's 29, and you're 23. he's not a stalker, he just did a background check like any good business person would do.

so what he finds you cute? the relationship would be strictly professional. besides, you deserved a break from your horrible boss. contrary to what diane thought, the walls were not soundproof, and he could hear her chewing you out.

sure, he'd done that to one of his employees once or twice, but it was always deserved, and never on the first time of being late. that was ridiculous.

"good morning, y/n," he greets. your head snaps up to make eye contact and he has to force himself to not laugh. he wasn't laughing at you, per se. it was more so the fact that he found it amusing how jumpy you seemed around him.

"good morning. did you order?"

"not yet. never been here, so i've got no clue what's good."

you open your mouth to respond, but the barista calls out, "large iced honey lavender latte with a pain au chocolat for y/n!"

you give a sheepish smile and run up to retrieve your food and drink. when you come back, you take a sip of your drink and set what looks to be a chocolate croissant down on the table.

"well, i'm more of an iced coffee girl. and i also don't really like the taste of coffee, so i've got a bunch of sugar in mine. what do you usually drink?"

"'m more of a black coffee, to be honest. iced is fine, but hot's better."

you wrinkle your nose, "i don't know how you stand the taste of coffee. it's so bitter."

"better than what you've got!" he laughs, "might as well just down a sugar packet."

you giggle at his teasing, "only psychos drink plain black coffee. this," you hold up your drink, "is so much better."

"oh, is it now?"

"yes, it is," you cross your arms proudly.

"lemme have a taste."

you hand over the drink, and he takes a small sip before coughing, "christ, y/n! that cannot be good for your health!"

"hey, i'm still alive, aren't i?" you shrug.

“that you are.”

“well… just ask for an americano, i guess. the rest of their drinks are kinda sugary and fun.”

he got his drink, and once the both of you were sat down, he got to business.

“so, how long have you been designing?”

“i’ve been doing it since middle school. i.. uh.. i saw that one american girl doll movie. where she was a designer. and i just got obsessed. obviously they weren’t good, but…”

“so you’ve got a lot of experience then?”

you nod. he grins.

“may i see the sketches?”

you grab the folder off the top of the sketchbook and pass it over to him.

he flips through it in silence for a few minutes, and you anxiously nibble at the skin around your fingernails.

“..so?” you ask.

“they’re great. really, you’ve got talent. i can’t draw for shit, so you’ve got me beat,” he laughs.

you laugh with him, “most of those are just ideas, i’ve never made them. but i have photos of the ones i have made. i printed them so it’s easier.”

you pass over the manilla folder, and he opens it to look at all the photos you’d printed out. there was around fifty— those were just the ones you actually liked and were confident showing.

he holds one up, and your cheeks flush. “why’s this the only one where you’re the model?” he asks.

“that was.. uh.. that’s my senior prom dress.”

his eyes widen, giving you an impressed look, “you made your own prom dress?”

you nod, “i just wanted something very specific, so.. i figured i’d just make it myself.”

“y’look great— the dress looks great,” he coughs. “you’re very talented.”

“thank you,” you blush.

“so tell me why someone as talented as you is working in diane’s shop not designing a single thing?”

“i didn’t realize that was the job. i just got excited when my professor told me they were interested in my work, so i took the job. i thought i’d at least do a little designing, but.. it pays.. decent, though.”

he scoffs, “darling, 15 bucks an hour is not decent pay. that’s what you make being a hostess. you’re an artist. someone would pay thousands of dollars for just your sketches.”

“i don’t think i’m that good—“

“you are,” he’s firm. resolute. there is no room for argument with him. “i think you’ll be a great asset to the project. i could use your… talent. i’ll send you an email with the nitty gritty details. i’ll see you soon, y/n.”

and with that, he stands and leaves, leaving you to sit there, dumbfounded, confused, and grinning.

a/n: guys i have too many series going on 😭😭

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry #harry fic #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #designer!harry styles #designer!harry styles x reader #harry styles x designer!reader #harry styles x fem!reader

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andyoullhearitagain · 2 months

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Top Ten Least Bad Outfits in TNG

I'm gonna be honest and say that the non-uniform outfits in TNG are not my favorite costume design in the world, but there are some looks that stick with me:

10. That Girl Who Kissed Data That One Time's Outfit:

I can never decide if I like this look or I think it's ugly, but I love the pants and tall boots combo. Her blouse is bad and the bouclé jacket is both too heavy and too fussy for this outfit, but I love the belt and suspenders combo, and the chevron embossing on the suspenders. This costume and all the others except #9 is a Robert Blackman design.

9. This Jumpsuit On That Girl From "The Dauphin":

This is the only William Ware Theiss design on this list. I love his TOS stuff but most of his TNG designs leave me cold 🤷‍♀️. But I love this is extremely 80s jumpsuit. Love the pretty drape, love the ruching on the sleeves, love the harem pants silhouette. Only note is that the whole bodice should be a structured corset bodice instead of the kind of odd structured panel it has now.

8. Picard's Shorty Pyjama Set:

TNG is absolutely full of the strangest pyjama choices you can imagine and Picard is no exception but I love this bold look. Would kill for this pyjama set. He also takes a work zoom wearing this one time which is insane.

7. Data's 1890's Looks But Specifically This One With The Shirtsleeves And The Blue Shirt:

The best part of "Time's Arrow" is that Data isn't a fish out of water in the 1890s, he's absolutely killing it, and I love that the only real Casual Data look we get is this one. I prefer the blue shirt to the pink because Data should really wear more blue, it's a nice contrast with yellow. Please also note his emerald watch fob, which was 0% necessary to blend in, he's just having fun with it.

6. 12 Year Old Keiko's Linen Overalls:

The paperbag waist! The bow! The little bows at the shirt cuffs! I can understand why she replicated a miniature copy of this outfit.

5. Beverly and Guinan's Dixon Hill Holodeck Costumes:

I'm counting these as one because they're essentially the same design in different color pallets but what color paletts! Bev is pulling off the very difficult pink+red+red hair and the mint green on Guinan is 🤌. I particularly love how Guinan's hat is so 1940s yet also echos the silhouette of her usual costume.

4. Deanna's Teal Dress:

Like all of you I prefer Deanna in the uniform, but this dress slays, ok? The space age asymmetrical neckline. The drop waist. The structured bodice. The slit almost all the way to the hip. And of course the matching tights and shoes CANNOT BE BEATEN. Also one time I saw a dude on a Star Trek forum call this a "ballgown" which baffles me to this day, this is clearly a slightly fancy day dress.

3. Picard's 1890s Look:

You'd think Picard would go full posh in the 1890s but instead he gives us this working-class Shakespearean director look and he 👏 looks 👏 incredible 👏. Way to mix textures, Jean-Luc.

2. Lore's Turtleneck and Giant Vest:

You and I know that Lore stole these clothes from the Pakleds because we pay a lot of attention to Star Trek costumes, but to a normal viewer Lore shows up and this is just his outfit!! It's giving, like, space-age goblincore and it's incredible. I want wear this oufit every day. I want to make a little doll Lore wearing this outfit to express my love for it. It's only not #1 because the pants are too orange and a strange weave.

Deanna's Ancient West Holodeck Outfit:

Deanna!!! The pants! The hat! The calico! She looks 10/10 hot in this outfit. For sure the superior version of this is before she gives her neckerchief to Worf (it really benefits from that cool highlight) but either way this is the best anyone's ever looked on that holodeck.

#star trek tng #star trek next gen #deanna troi #jean luc picard #data soong #beverly crusher #guinan #lore soong #keiko o'brien #tng #yelling about costume design

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llamagoddessofficial · 2 months

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The sirens are always rescuing Mc. But what if, for once, Mc was the one who came to the rescue of a siren...?

Amazing commission, courtesy of the delightful @our-brightest-stars. I love any chance I can take to write more arctic-based stuff!

---

You could immediately tell, upon entering the room, that they had been talking about you.

Despite the sweet smell of coffee, the air was heavy. The chatter you had been hearing through the door immediately stopped, like you were a teacher that’d walked into a room of gossiping school kids. Four of your colleagues were gathered together around the kitchen table, mugs clasped in their hands - Evan, who you already thought was a bit of a dick, put his hand up to his shut mouth and cast a wide-eyed look to Leo and Tom beside him. Antoni, who you considered something of a friend, had her back to you but sank sheepishly into her beige turtleneck sweater regardless.

You bit the inside of your lip. You could tell from their faces what they had been discussing before you interrupted. You had gotten to know their expressions pretty well, after so long occupying the same cramped arctic research station together.

... Yeah, figured they’d find out eventually. If anything, I’m surprised it took them this long.

You wordlessly made your way over to the coffee pot, shoes squeaking against the rubber floor. You put your rucksack onto the counter, grabbing your flask out of it, skin prickling from their staring. There was still a significant amount of coffee left - a bonus of working with people who were also coffee addicts was they generally respected the ‘never leave the pot empty’ rule.

You filled your flask. The coffee still had some steam coming off it. Stars, the silence was deafening.

“... Uh... going out?” Antoni asked, plaintively, as you screwed the lid back on and pushed the sealed flask into the mesh on the side of your bag. At least she had the decency to sound ashamed. Leo didn’t do a very good job of hiding his snicker.

“Yeah.” You hefted the bag back onto your shoulders, doing your best to not make eye contact with any of them.

Evan, clearly, couldn’t contain himself. “Gonna go track down mothman?”

You felt a flush of multiple emotions at the same time. Some embarrassment, some shame, all of it quickly washed away by aggravation. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you held your tongue. You wanted to point out what a stupid fucking thing it was to talk about tracking mothman (a cryptid from West Virginia) in the high arctic, but it was obvious he was baiting you, so you kept your mouth shut.

It wasn’t the first time you’d been made fun of for what you believed in. However... the words stung that little bit more, when it was coming from your fellow scientists.

“Evan,” Antoni sounded exasperated, “don’t be such a prick.”

Evan raised his hands. “What? So I’m not allowed to ask questions?”

You didn’t respond. You walked past them, headed to the main corridor; you weren’t going to let this spoil your plans. “See you guys later.”

As you left the room, you vaguely heard Antoni and Leo starting to berate Evan in low whispers. Someone definitely called him an asshole, cut off as the door closed behind you.

You sighed. The hallway felt a lot longer than usual. You passed through another set of doors, heavy metal ones, into the cold ‘buffer’ room between the warm research station interior and the outside world. After double checking you had all your gear, you stepped out of the doors, outside into the sun.

People didn’t realise how beautiful the arctic could really be. If you told someone to describe the arctic, they would probably just talk about the ice. And yeah, sure, there was a lot of ice, it would be unreasonable to say someone was wrong for thinking of that. But that was like describing a forest as ‘just trees’. The arctic at this time of year was endless slopes of rugged greens that rolled and swayed and disappeared far away into the horizon and beyond, carved into shape by ancient lakes and glaciers scraping the ground piece by piece once in a millenia. It was a sight to behold. Trees couldn’t take root, only the hardiest shrubs survived, and you were little more than a stone’s throw from the vast sub-zero ocean.

That ocean, a haven for the rarest kinds of sirens, was your goal.

You tugged your backpack into a more snug position on your shoulders, and continued trudging through the stones and bare grasses. Even now, with the sun high in the air and all but the most stubborn chunks of the ice gone, the arctic was... well, the arctic. It never got warm enough to be comfortable and it was a good idea to just keep moving if you wanted to make it to the shoreline with enough time to actually get some footage before sundown.

You loved your job. Some would call you crazy, for willingly spending months at a time in the arctic circle studying sirens. You’d always been interested in sirens. The mystery and culture wrapped up within them, the inherent danger, so little information could solve so much. Siren studies was one of those areas where even the most fractional of discoveries would be groundbreaking and important.

... Sirens weren’t your true passion, though. Your true passion was what Evan had probably just discovered, and shared with your teammates - why you were lugging such a giant cold-resistant camera kit in your bag with you.

You quietened your thoughts with a swig of warm coffee, and an increased walking pace.

Would some people call your Youtube channel conspiratorial? Sure. But cryptids were where your heart really lied. Cryptid study, cryptid research, cryptid sightings... you were incredibly proud of the modest following of like-minded people you’d built up online over time - there was no doubt your qualifications definitely gave your word some weight in the tight-knit community. Honestly, you considered your research work simply a way to fund your true passion. Every day when you had the free time, you took your camera out with you, out into the beautiful arctic land. There was so much to look out for. What would you find? You were giddy. If you found something truly incredible, your channel could blow up, and you could do Youtube full time. Today your mission was just to get some footage of the sea for a voiceover section you had planned.

... There was never a small amount of side-eyeing from people you knew, when they found out what you were passionate about. You weren’t sure what was worse; the ones who rolled their eyes and made stupid comments, or the ones who nodded along but looked at you like you were a particularly imaginative child. At least the more aggressive ones were honest about how they really felt.

Sirens, in a way, felt like they proved that you were right to keep wondering what else was out there. They were incredible creatures, not even fractionally understood, dangerous and magical - they perfectly straddled the line between science and fantasy and there was so much of them that couldn’t be explained by those who (so frequently) brushed you off. How did their songs lure people? How do their bodies consist of such strange combinations of beings? How do they effortlessly sink hunting boats? Why did so many cultures have matching stories of them that perfectly apply to real life? In your world, honestly, the existence of sirens meant that a lot of other cryptids didn’t seem like too much of a stretch.

You had dedicated your life to researching sirens. By studying them, you could follow a path that was suitably scientific enough to shut up the assholes who didn’t take you seriously... but also gave you the time and resources to pursue your real passion.

You had to admit, you took pleasure in people discovering you were a scientist and a strong believer in certain cryptids. The visual erroring on their faces was wonderfully karmic to observe.

There was plenty of time to spare on the arctic research station. Experiments were frequent but didn’t take literally all day. You were left with ample opportunity to do whatever you pleased. Like, for instance... go out and film for your Youtube.

Aside from wanting to take pictures and film some B-roll, you just generally enjoyed being able to be outside. It was all well and good in the spring and summer, but when autumn and winter rolled around you’d be lucky to be able to see out of the windows. There was nothing as endless as the darkness of an arctic winter; the screaming winds, the days as pitch black as the nights, the many weeks cooped up in one place because the outside of the facility was literally one of the most hostile environments on Earth. It was good to stretch the legs - soak up as much serotonin as possible before the winter months came.

After a decent amount of time walking, immersed in your thoughts, you found yourself able to see the flat expanse of the sea poking just over the snow-topped hills. You were finally approaching the shore. Even from where you stood, you could see the massive ‘islands’ of ice floating silently away in the far distance. It was a truly magnificent place to be.

You rifled through your pockets for your hearing protection as you came close enough to the water to smell it, eventually having to pull off a glove for the dexterity. Even just a few metres from the sea you had to be aware of sirensong. Sirensong was always something of a risk but it was an even stronger risk while you were somewhere as remote as the arctic.

... But just before you got your protection into your ears, you heard something. It sounded like scrabbling, a weirdly desperate scratching. You stopped walking, turning cluelessly and searching for the source of the noise.

A few yards to your left, a patch of snow was wriggling.

No. It wasn’t snow. You blinked in surprise; it was an arctic hare, a surprisingly large animal, lean and white and with beady little black eyes. The animals this far north were always so much bigger than you expected. When it saw you notice it, it scrabbled and flailed in a way that only a frightened animal could, clearly desperately trying to run away.

Something was stopping it. Upon closer inspection, from where you stood, you could see it had one back leg trapped in a small crack in the ice.

... Huh. You moved nearer, putting your hearing protection back into your pocket. The hare flailed again, wildly kicking its front legs, it reminded you of an injured bird trying to fly. Then it totally stilled; as if it could hide from you after all that movement.

“... I really shouldn’t help you,” you said, dejectedly, to the terrified animal, watching its little whiskers twitch, long ears pinned back against its skull as it tried to act indistinguishable from the ground. “Survival of the fittest, and all.”

The hare’s beautiful eyes stared up at you. You could see its little chest going up and down, heart beating wildly under its soft white fur.

...

You scanned the horizon. There was no one around for a long while. Sure, your GPS tracker told your coworkers where you were at all times in case of emergency. But until they thought there was an emergency you absolutely weren’t being followed anytime soon.

...

You pulled your bag off your shoulders, kneeling down and tugging your ice pick out of its strap holder.

“No one will know, right?” you told the hare. It was just one hare. Even though leaving it was the logical thing to do, you couldn’t genuinely bring yourself to abandon this animal to die slowly and painfully while lodged in the ground. Besides, it was just one hare, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like it had been caught by a predator, or something. It must’ve got its foot caught by accident; this was simply a terrible stroke of bad luck. If you freed it, it could go on to be eaten by a fox or wolf. Better that than to just die and freeze solid.

Using your ice pick, you carefully went behind the completely still creature. You were impressed by its dedication to stay totally still even when you were close enough to potentially reach out and stroke its fur. You had to be careful it didn’t spin around and bite you - you gently chipped away at the ice, extremely cautious not to catch its tiny bony leg. The entire time you dug, the hare was as still as the ice itself, unable to shake its instinctive need to stay small.

It really didn’t take long at all. A few careful draws of the sharp end of your axe against the compacted ice... and suddenly, like a gunshot going off, the animal sprinted away from you. Its powerful legs sent up a spray of snow, some of which went straight into your eyes - by the time you staggered to your feet, hurriedly wiped your face, sputtered and looked back up again, the hare was completely out of sight.

... Well. That was definitely a story to tell. You sighed, grabbing your bag and hoisting it back over your shoulder. At least -

- splashing?

Your head snapped toward the sea, in the direction of the sound. Against the total silence of the icy glassy sea, the splashing was loud, loud enough for you to hear it several metres away from the beach. It sounded frantic, almost aggressive. What the hell? What was going on today? You pushed your hearing protection onto your head, and half-ran-half-jogged toward the shoreline. The bare rock, grass and drifts of stubborn snow sloped away into loose pebbles that crunched and slid underfoot, mirrorlike water lapping slowly at the tide line only a few metres away. Lumps of ice, mini-glaciers of their own, floated silently and ominously by. This was water that would easily kill you if you fell in.

You scanned the shoreline, searching visually for the source of the noise you’d heard only moments ago - and soon you caught movement in the corner of your eye, just around a ‘corner’ caused by a rocky outcropping that jutted up a little higher than the rest of the landscape. Behind the outcropping, you could see large ripples spreading out, fast and random like something was fighting just behind where you could see. It was easy to pick up, considering the rest of the shoreline was so millpond still.

Immediately, you jumped into action, running across the pebbled beach and scrambling up and onto the rock face. You weren’t even sure what you were expecting to see. Was it a person in distress?

... Except you could instantly tell it wasn’t a person, when the hidden section of the beach came into view, and you immediately saw a massive sleek outline that was easily twice as big as a person. It was for sure some kind of animal. But it took you a few crucial seconds of mind-whirring confusion to figure out what it was.

... Oh my stars. You ducked slightly, as if that would help.

It was a skeleton orca siren. A huge one. Partially beached, right there on the shore.

You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. All the breath left your chest at once. An skeleton orca siren, right before your eyes, bigger than you ever could’ve imagined, arching white markings and strong bones unmarred by any scars that could show a loss. Its sockets were sharpened with frustration - its body was against the shore at an angle, you could tell from how its tail was still able to cause those waves that the sea probably deepened extremely suddenly. It was thrashing, clawed hands digging into the ground, the force of its thrashing sending up showers of both stone and sea.

Your breaths were controlled. The closest you had ever gotten to seeing a siren before was spotting their distant tiny shapes breaching near your boat, or the blurry low-quality images from underwater cameras. You’d never seen one in person so close you could touch it.

Clearly, you weren’t all that sneaky. Its rounded skeletal face whipped around, and razor-like white eyelights in pitch dark sockets landed on you.

Both of you were the rabbit this time. You froze, all your hair standing on end, nerves prickling. The siren froze too, waves stopping, it glared your way. At least... you felt like it was glaring. It was impossible to tell, its skeletal features were devoid of any of the usual emotional tells you relied upon. Whatever it was thinking, it was definitely staring, claws curling into the ground. Just its arms, twice the thickness of yours, could almost definitely snap your body in half.

Man. Chills spread across your whole body. Good fucking thing you put your hearing protection in, huh?

You took a slow moment to take it all in. From the shape of the dorsal fin, you could tell it was male; male orca had a tall, almost triangular fin, while females had a much more sloped and curved appendage. Those sharp white eyelights cut into you, he was taking in you just as you took in him, clearly analysing every part of you. There was something so terrifying about his gaze - the eyes of a predator.

He watched you. He seemed... alert. Very very alert.

...

Your heart was thundering in your ears, the only sound you could hear in your hearing protection. You unglamorously pulled yourself over the rock outcropping, scrabbling down it, and - against all advice you’d read before - approached.

He was beached. You had to at least see if you could help, right? It was one thing to have an inner battle about leaving a hare to die, it was another when the potential victim was a creature just as intelligent and sentient and aware as a person. He was laid at an angle, but still laid, the highest point of his back coming up to about your ribs. He had lost the advantage of movement. You nearly tripped over yourself as you moved closer, nervous feet skidding in the loose rocks.

... As you approached, he seemed to get... calmer? His eyesockets lost their sharpness, his eyelights grew in size. It was the opposite of what you anticipated. He wasn’t any less intimidating, though, no less scary. Your eyes kept darting to his teeth.

“How the hell did you manage to do this?” you asked, though you weren’t expecting a response, unable to hear even your own voice through the protection. “Where’s the rest of your pod, you dumbass?”

Was he smiling at you? Surely not. You dropped your bag to the floor, a few feet from him, digging through it until you pulled out your thick waterproof overclothing. Some other items tumbled out as you removed the gear but you paid them no mind. The waterproof outfit was like a boilersuit, it could be put on over the top of your other items and zipped to create a (theoretically) waterproof layer. Normally, it was a pain in the ass to get on, but you felt that you were on a time crunch and had somehow manifested almost superhuman speed.

You zipped up the suit, now protected in case you got wet. The closer you moved to him, the more you wished you had time to stop and fully admire him. The water on his bones and skin made him almost appear like he was shimmering.

“... Ok,” you said, despite not being able to hear your own words, “easy big guy. Don’t bite. I’m just trying to help. I’ll get you back in the sea, and then I’ll go back to the land, and we can go on our way.”

He didn’t say anything. Because of course he didn’t, he was a siren, why did that thought even cross your mind? You blinked and shook your head, as if dispelling the thoughts physically. Of course he couldn’t talk. Something about his face felt so intelligent, somewhere deep down you had seemingly decided he could understand every word you said. And even if he did speak, it wasn’t like that’d be of any use to you.

Something about him was eerily calm, even as you moved around him, coming close enough to his side to be within touching distance. Surely, a stranded creature like him would be thrashing and fighting when you came nearer, just like the hare? Surely he’d be making angry, earsplitting sounds that you’d be able to feel in your chest? The wind was picking up, tussling your hair. The siren stayed perfectly calm.

“... I’m... I’m gonna need to touch you. Ok?”

...

... You reached out, and traced his skin with the tips of your fingers, extremely gently. It was cold. You immediately pulled back, turning and watching his face.

You expected something. Anything. A jump, a twitch, a lurch. Maybe even an attempt to fight you off. You expected him to swing around; hell, you expected him to even look at you. Any kind of a measurement of his reaction to you. Your legs were itching to leap back and flee.

But there was... nothing. No response from him at all.

You came in again, this time putting your palm against his back, just beside his fin. It felt like electricity was running up your arm.

Nothing. Like he didn’t even care you were there. He was looking over his shoulder at you with a bizarrely soft look. Like he wanted you there. You felt very, very strange. This wasn’t at all what you were thinking would happen.

It felt like such a naive thing to even consider, but maybe... maybe he knew you were trying to help?

Well, you didn’t have time to ponder the implications or reasons. You knew he was alright with physical contact. Now, you needed to figure out a way to get him back into the water.

You started by trying to pull - it only made sense, right? It kept you away from his front half, where the damage could be done. You looped your hands around the strong muscular base of his fin, using it like an anchor, digging your feet into the stones and throwing your whole weight backward. There was an extremely faint rocking of his body, literally about as much movement as someone trying to pull a car and only succeeding in making it bounce. Unperturbed, you tried again, pulling as hard as you could -

- the loose stones slid out from beneath your shoes. It kicked up the smell of wet seaweed and salt; if you hadn’t had your hands on his fin, your legs would’ve gone out from under you.

“Fuck,” you said breathlessly.

Did the siren laugh? Your head whipped around, he was looking ahead again. You felt like you saw his body move.

... It must’ve been some other kind of vocalisation. You stood and turned around, trying again, this time pushing with your hands braced against the same spot. You pushed as hard as you could, nearly forgetting to breathe out, feeling your shoulders and wrists starting to twinge in pain.

Once again, before you could make any meaningful progress, the force of your body made the slippery stones dislodge. You stumbled, all but falling flat onto his back, regaining yourself last minute and turning and looking over your shoulder at the siren’s head.

“You just gonna sit there and stare at me?” you asked, breathless and only half joking.

He was looking back. You really really got the feeling he was smiling at you.

You tried to push again, since it felt more solid than pulling. Yet everything you tried, the stones dislodged. The ground itself was fighting you. Frustrated, you dug your boot into the stones, trying to dig down and see if there was sand underneath, but there was just more and more loose wet rocks. Like the beach was making fun of you.

... Wait.

You thought back to the hare. Chipping at the ice around its leg.

You let go of him, scurrying back to your bag, then returning just as quickly with your pick in hand. The siren cast you a questioning glance, but still did absolutely nothing to stop your nonsense. Quickly, you dropped to your knees by his side, holding the pick by the head and jamming the wooden handle into the pebbles around where his tail met the floor. They came loose, of course.

You dug fast, using big scooping motions to pull the rocks out further each time. When you found a particularly large and difficult stone you flipped the pick and used the sharp edge to hoist it out of the ground. Seawater would occasionally slip into the gap you’d made, as the tide made the most minute waves you’d ever seen.

Excitedly, you ran around the siren, to dig on the opposite side. You didn’t notice how you ran perfectly within range of his arms, yet you dropped to his other side unharmed.

Your knees hurt. You were certain they’d be bruised. But you kept digging, and digging. You weren’t really doing anything more complex than making a ramp underneath him - but you were excited and flushed nonetheless, tired muscles full of hopeful vigour.

Suddenly, his tail splashed, you felt his whole body moving like an earthquake. You jumped away as far as you could, this time successfully falling flat on your ass - just like that, the siren drew away from you, moving backward into the water as he regained his grip and pushed himself. You were shocked by the speed and agility with which his huge body turned... and how he almost instantly disappeared, under the waves.

Holy shit, you thought, heaving, finally letting go of the pick as you stared out into the rapidly calming waters. It was like he’d never even been there. I actually... I actually did it. I just unbeached a siren. I...

Speaking of waves. Exhaustion, like a sudden tsunami, washed over you. Your shoulders sagged and your knees screamed in pain, you lifted your hands up to your face to see you had great crescents of red irritated skin on your palms. You were probably going to get blisters.

... The cold started to finally twinge at your fingers. You managed to draw yourself up to your feet, but you flopped right back down to your knees once you made it to your bag.

You opened it up, looking for your gloves, a lovely warm feeling filling your chest.

Amongst the dry kit, you saw your camera bag.

...

Wait. Your eyes widened.

... You forgot to take a picture.

Welp - that was the lovely feeling gone. Immediately, you let out a frustrated shout, falling onto your back and putting your hands over your face. You forgot to take a picture. What a fucking moron! You’d just been closer than almost anyone ever to a massive orca siren, and you hadn’t even thought to get your camera out. He’d literally been a sitting duck, you could’ve photographed every side of him, every scar and mark, stars you could’ve filmed a segment for your channel. But the idea hadn’t even crossed your mind, you’d been so determined to save him.

You’d probably never get another situation like this in your whole life. The universe threw the greatest possible chance at you. And you blew it.

... You dragged your hands down your face, staring up at the mottled sky. It wasn’t yet sunset, but you could tell the sun was beginning to inch toward it. If you wanted to film you’d have to do it right now.

...

... You couldn’t tell anyone back at the station about this. You folded your arm over your eyes. They wouldn’t believe you; they discover your ‘conspiratorial’ beliefs, tease you about it, you leave in a huff and then you conveniently come back a few hours later with an elaborate story about how you unbeached an adult orca siren? Yet strangely, you have absolutely no proof of the matter, despite having a camera on your person the whole time? You weren’t even sure if your followers would believe it. Sure, they’d believe you encountered a siren. But unlike what the rest of the world wanted to think, they absolutely weren’t stupid - they’d be hard pressed to believe you RESCUED the animal and didn’t think to record.

Eventually, you sat up. You were really and truly gutted. But there was no point fretting; not when you had daylight to use.

Might as well just get some of that B-roll.

///---///

Looking at the comments was always nice. When you weren’t busy, and couldn’t get outside, your second favourite thing to do was scroll through the comments on your videos. Of course you always got the occasional idiots who called you nuts, but those were few and far between, most were people being sweet or recounting their own experiences that you always read with complete rapture.

You imagined some might find it hard to believe that being tucked up in your tiny warm station room was your second favourite activity. Walking around in the wind and cold was much more fun. But that, of course, didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy curling up on your desk chair with a blanket and a mug of tea while reading people’s encouraging responses to your passion projects.

You’d only posted your most recent video, the one about your siren encounter, about an hour ago. You scrolled, delighting in the serotonin that came with having an active comment section.

... Eventually, you came across a longer one that caught your eye. You paused sipping your tea to read it.

@bluesaphii1996

I grew up somewhere where we constantly see sirens in our waters. I absolutely believe you saw a siren, because I’m like 99% certain I can see a siren in the sea behind you at 14:51. Look just to the left of your shoulder, about 2/3s of the way between the beach line and the horizon. Its head pops up for a second before it rolls in the water and dives again. Either that or it's a VERY weird seal. But I’ve seen enough sirens to recognise their behaviour. That siren is 100% watching you when your back is turned. Be safe!!

...

You had to read the comment three times over.

Huh? What?

Immediately, sitting up and setting your mug aside, you clicked back over to your video and skipped to the timestamp in question. In that part of the video, you had set up your tripod, and you were talking to the camera with the sea behind you. You stared hard at the screen.

... You weren’t really used to looking at the ocean. You were pretty certain that someone who grew up by the sea would be a lot better at seeing strange movements in the water than you were.

But sure enough, just like the commenter had said, you could just about make out a shape in the water. It broke the surface, then disappeared down again.

You had literally put your hands against that siren. You’d know it anywhere. That was definitely him; watching you from the water, many minutes after you’d rescued him and he could’ve swam far away.

...

You sat back in your chair. You weren’t entirely sure how you were supposed to feel about that.

... Probably not excitement.

You just couldn’t help it. A massive grin was spreading across your face. You were absolutely, utterly delighted.

Despite everything, you did get him on camera!

#commissions #hes a sneaky boy that one #not sneaky enough to not get stuck though apparently #calmest and nicest wild orca sans interaction

459 notes · View notes

charmandabear · 4 months

Text

Office Hours

Summary:

Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet

This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.

This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.

“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.

“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.

“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.

“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”

You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.

“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.

“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.

“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.

“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.

“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.

“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.

“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.

“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.

“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.

***

“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.

“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”

“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.

“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.

“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”

“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”

“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”

“The sea of troubles?”

“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.

“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”

The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.

“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”

He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect

“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.

“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.

“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.

“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.

“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.

“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’

***

You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.

You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.

Fucking Ancunin.

You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.

You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.

You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.

Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.

But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.

Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.

Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.

The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.

You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.

His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.

You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.

You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.

“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.

“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.

You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.

Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.

You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?

“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.

Shit.

***

The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.

You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.

When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.

You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.

Fuck.

It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.

“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.

Right?

You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.

“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.

“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”

You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.

“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.

“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.

Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.

No escape now.

He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.

“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.

“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.

“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”

An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.

“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.

But on the other hand…

“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.

“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.

“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.

Fucking

vampire??

That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.

He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.

He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.

“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.

He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on

his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.

He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.

So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.

“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.

“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.

But holy hells do you want him to.

“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.

You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.

For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.

You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.

His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.

You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.

“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #baldurs gate smut #fanfiction #smut #professor astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #office hours

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dsybouquet · 4 months

Text

ceo! ellie - 4

“see the stars, they’re shining bright. everything is alright tonight”

read part 3 here !

ellie woke up by the sound of glasses moving. tiredly, she rolled around, noticing your absence. the light was already beaming in from your bedroom window. how late was it? regardless, ellie got up and made her way down the hallway to meet you in the kitchen.

„morning!“

you smiled, noticeably already running on a cup of coffee. ellie rubber her eyes, groaning a small ‚morning‘ back with her raspy morning voice.

perhaps you had a little heartattack because of how how she manages to sound and look that good while you‘re fumbling around with cups and plates.

„want a coffee?“ you ask while already pouring some in a cup and handing it to her.

ellie, in the meantime, sat down at your kitchen table, watching you clean up your kitchen. she had to admit, you looked adorable while doing so. still in pyjamas, no make up, hair a little messy.. she could get used to that view.

“what time is it?“ she asked after the first few sips of coffee.

you looked at the time on your microwave. „9.45 am“

quickly, ellie pulled out her phone to see if there was anything to be missed. in fact, she had 4 missed calls from dina, 5 from jesse and 1 from an unknown number. she didn’t dare to take a look into her messages app.

„fuck.“, she groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.

“what‘s wrong?“ you asked her, sitting down on the other side of the table.

„work. still have to plan an event.“ her hands still supported her head. truth is, ellie didn’t want to. she hated planing and holding speeches on events. she hated the people acting all nice around her when truth was they despised her for taking over joels work.

you nodded, almost forgetting that ellie wasn’t just a girl, she was a business woman.

“i suppose you need to go soon then?”

“yeah.”

ellie looked up to you, her eyes covered in almost a sad glace. the time she spends with you makes her feel so free, like there isn’t a company to run or an event to plan or an problem to solve. its pure sweet freedom, the one she has been seeking for ages.

“if you need fresh clothes, check my closet. this way you don’t need to drive home first.” you said with the softest smile on your lips. maybe you also just liked the thought of her wearing your stuff although it may not fit her perfectly.

“i would just keep that hoodie on, if you don’t mind, dear?”

“of course not!”

the way the petnames rolled off her lips made you weak in the knees.

no matter how stressed ellie felt, she took her time drinking her coffee, keeping up a conversation with you while doing so. she kindly declined breakfast as she wasn’t the person to eat right after getting up.

slowly, you two got ready for the day. brushing teeth and hair, getting changed. ellie enjoyed the slow morning with you - although she knew dina and jesse would fuck her up for this.

together you walked to the beautiful white bentley outside. in your eyes, ellie looked so adorable. the tailored suit pants paired with your oversized university hoodie. she looked so casual, so suit, no black turtleneck - just a pretty girl that spend the night at someone’s place.

“i’ll text you later, okay? maybe we can grab some food?” she asked as gentle as always, smirking slightly.

“i’d love that.”

ellie knew you’d spend your day with your laptop and books, studying for the upcoming exams. maybe a little dinner date would make you feel better after.

she pulled you in a tight hug, stroking your hair lightly.

“see you later, pretty girl.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

“what the fuck took you so long?”

dina was pissed, and maybe she was right about it. after all, miller enterprises almost got sued over some stupid agent.

“sorry.” ellie groaned in return, letting herself drop onto her leather office chair.

rolling her eyes to the back of her head dina called jesse and a few more members of the team to meet in ellies office.

“everything is set. while you were gone enjoying youself, we organised an event hall and a catering service.” jesse explained, putting some contacts and sheets of paper on ellies desk.

“invitations have been sent, celebrities and influencers as well as important business people have been invited. the charity event, as per wish of the andersons, will be dedicated to the saint mary hospital. helping finding a cure for terminal child illnesses.” dina continued, catching ellies attention.

“this is a lovely topic. helping research for kids that need it.. very well done, team.” she admitted, signing the checks that were in between the paper stack jesse put infront of her.

everybody stood around her desk, watching her silently, waiting for an objection or something to change. to their surprise, ellie was calm. soft tempered, reading through every detail.

“next friday?” she then asked, looking up at everybody.

“yessir.”

“fine. we can get everything done by then.”

they kept on discussing business manner some of the lower tier agents for organisations didn’t understand. after all some were too stunned by the fact that they were standing in their ceos office.

“everyone aware of what to do? are we all aligned?”

everybody nooded. some ‘aye sir’ and ‘yes ma’am’ coming from different corners. ellie took that as a clear yes.

“i expect a perfect event. i shall keep my eyes on your hands while doing so. if you need anything, be it budget or approval, send it to your team leader or to jesse to let me sign it, all clear?”

again, nodding and silent approvals.

ellie grinned, sometimes she loved the power.

“you’re all dismissed then.”

everybody, except for dina and jesse, left her office. ellie wished her friends left too. she wasn’t ready for tales about how she was irresponsible by being inactive and not checking her phone.

“didn’t know you went to university?” dina joked, leaning against a wall with her arms crossed. “another girl to play and show off with? is it that bartender girl?”

this woman knew how to piss ellie off. she rolled her eyes and got out of her comfortable leather seat.

“first of all, thats none of your business, dina. i didn’t say a word about you and jesse as well.”

“well you just di-“

“jesse, not know!”

jesse laughed demonically, knowing his jokes can be quite a bit.

“and second of all, i am always on top of everything. once i sleep in you act like my fucking mother!”

“didn’t you wish for one?”

if dina wasn’t her best friend, ellie would’ve grabbed her by the neck and pushed her against the wall. it was a button you shouldn’t be pushing when talking to ellie. she was quite reserved about her past, about everything before joel.

„dina that’s enough!“ jesse threw in, getting in between the women.

„i‘ll send you approved contracts to sign.“ dina added before leaving the office.

ellie felt defeated and just looked at jesse.

„can you like leave too? i got work to do.“

„if you need anything let me know.“

„i won‘t but thanks, jesse.“

and so he left her in her huge office by herself. a huge groan left her throat before she activated her coffee machine for another cup. ellie light a cigarette and sat down at her desk. dina always had to pull the family card, opening old wounds that haven’t properly healed inside of ellie yet. there was no time to heal when you had a company to run.

she did her paperwork, read the contacts dina mailed her and approved or declined them. she took boring business calls and attended meetings with the top tier managers.

finally she called it a day and called you on her way to her car.

„hey ellie!“ you sweet voice light up her moof immediately.

“hey dear, can i come pick you up?”

oh, how you hoped she wouldn’t hear your smile in your voice.

“of course ! didnt finish studying yet but it can wait.”

ellie made her way to the garage of the office building, still having you on the phone.

“alright, i will be there in 20!”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

and she was. perhaps your were already waiting outside, wearing your favourite skirt paired with a hoodie and leather jacket, heeled boots underneath.

“hey.” again, she pulled you in a soft hug after getting out of her bentley before opening the door for you to get in.

“so, where are we going?”

“my apartment. im not feeling many people in a restaurant right now.”

you nodded, understanding the burden of work and after studying for what felt like ages, you were happy to not have dinner in a restaurant.

ellie drove off your street, 80s rock playing again. the sun was already down due to the winter nights. still, her car and her aura was so warm.

she stopped in front of an huge building that looked way to expensive to be an apartment building. pressing a little button on a remote control in her car, the doors to an underground garage opened. being an student that’s hardly living on budget, you were stunned.

and before you could notice, you stood in an elevator driving to the top floor of the apartment. the doors opened, and in front of you was probably the most gorgeous apartment you’ve ever seen. plants, led lights and lamp, nerdy posters and figures.

“welcome to my place.”

you were a hooked by the view from the enormous windows all around you. the skyline of the town was beautiful.

she helped you take off your jacket and put it on the hanger - as gentle as always. “thank you.” you smiled.

she showed you around. showing you her kitchen which was an dream, her two bathrooms that were so huge and beautiful, her living room, her bedroom and office. this apartment was an absolute dream. all black and white furniture, color coming from plants and posters.

“ellie this is an insane place.”

“took me a good while to get it like this, thank you.”

she smiled before getting wine glasses and a bottle of way too expensive looking wine.

“i was thinking about ordering pizza, im not a good cook unfortunately.”

“i would love that.”

and so you ordered pizza and drank way too expensive wine, talking, smoking cigarettes and maybe a little bit of weed too. you never felt so full filed in your life - neither did ellie.

“______?”

“hm?” you replied, looking up and taking a sip of the wine. ellie adored the way you look, slightly drunk, eyes full of life. how she wanted to have you for herself, but you hardly have entered the talking stage, did you?

by staring at your pretty eyes, she forgot what to say.

“ellie?” you laughed, putting her back to reality.

“uh yeah ! i wanted to ask uhm.. my company is having a charity event next friday and aah if you’re free, i’d love to have you coming alongsides me.”

you smiled, moving slightly closer to her.

“so like your date?”

ellie started blushing, but hid it well.

“if you wanna call it that.” she smiled in return, ignoring the fact that she was starting to get shy by your energy. the tension was think enough to be cut with a knife. god, you wanted to kiss her right in that spot.

“i’d love to.” you said, close enough for her to grab your face and kiss you. but she didn’t, not yet.

°˖✧✿✧˖°

and with that, merry christmas my loves ! sorry for taking ages. this is not proof read so if anything doesnt make sense, mind i wrote this in the middle of my christmas stress and cooking etc. anyways, one more part is yet to come. <3

love, daisy xx

taglist: @harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj @elliewilliamsgf69 @weridcattty @feelsoseencantdream @honeymoonbbie @katymae12344 @aouiaa @bbglmfao @crxmxnzl-c0rpzes @nakimushiohime @p4ison1vy @keilyskei @angelicagellyka @kerst666 @littlegingerperson

#ceo ! ellie #ellie williams tlou #tlou ellie #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams fluff

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luvrxbunny · 8 months

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hii!! just read ur vampire!eddie fic and it was so goooddd!!!! 🥹😩 I was wondering if I could request tho maybe mafia!eddie(??) totally okay if u don’t want to or if that’s not ur vibe hehe ☺️ thank you!! 🤍🤍

omg you're my first request! i hope this is along the lines of what you wanted ily enjoy! also this was supposed to come out next Monday but I didn't wanna wait

Pairing: Mafia!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie has you sit in during a meeting and hijinks ensue.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, piv, unprotected sex, exhibitionism(?) (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.5k

A/N: he works out of an office building… don't ask

Eddie is in a meeting when you show up. His receptionist has you sit in the waiting room while he wraps up so you’re sitting there quietly with your little basket of home-baked muffins. Your sundress is fanned out around you delicately, and a soft smile is on your face at the thought of seeing your fiancé

Your heart jumps and you stand up when the door opens and two suited men walk out as Eddie shakes hands with the third one. You’re fixated on how his silver rings shine in the light, you run your eyes up his body and notice he’s wearing your favorite outfit.

It was your birthday when you picked it, he said you should choose the outfit he would wear to your party. You put him in a black suit with a sleeveless black turtleneck underneath, a silver watch that you bought him, a silver chain, and his silver gauges for accessories.

He looks so incredibly powerful, that it has you clenching your thighs together desperately. You admire his curly hair, loving the way it falls over his shoulders when you notice him looking at you, very confused. “Sandy, what is she doing out here?” He says in a rough, angry voice as he makes his way over to you with an angry scowl. He grabs your arm more gently than you expected and drags you over to the doorway of his office.

“I told you to always send her right in. Don’t let this happen again.” He slams his door shut before Sandy can answer and kisses you softly. “Hey, sweetheart.” He takes your basket and walks to his desk, you following close behind him. “What’re you doing here? Need me?” He places them on his desk and drops himself in his chair, legs spread and smirking as he looks up at you.

You giggle at him, a little flustered that he saw through you so quickly. “How did you know?” You’re staring at the ground as you ask him, your weight shifting from leg to leg. Eddie is silent as you stare at your feet, waiting for him to answer but little do you know, Eddie is waiting for you. He’s watching you shift around nervously, looking anywhere but into his eyes and he decides that he won’t answer until you look directly at him. The silence gets a bit unbearable and you look up to see what’s taking him so long only to see him already staring at you, a smile breaking out on his face when your eyes meet.

“I know my fiancee, baby… And I know you’re not wearing anything under that sundress. You never do.” His voice sounds a little far away by the end of his sentence, his eyes wandering down your body. You watch his smile widen as he takes you in. Your thighs clenching together when his gaze rests there, you can see his jaw clenching in response as he fixes his gaze back on your face. “Come sit in my lap, baby.”

You smile brightly and place yourself in his lap, facing him and you can already feel his dick hardening and pressing against you. “There’s my pretty girl.” He whispers into your lips before devouring you and an all-consuming kiss. It’s obvious in the way he bruises his lips into yours that he’s missed you too.

His hands are gripping both sides of your face, pulling you against him. His hands run down your back and to your sides, his thumbs coming up to stroke your nipples softly, feeling them stiffen up underneath his thumbs. He moans into your mouth at the feeling and pulls at the straps of your dress, trying to free your boobs so he can play with them properly but you hear his door open, pulling you out of the moment and forcing your lips to part from Eddie’s.

“Sandy, what the fuck have I said about knocking?” His voice is booming, it almost makes you flinch, as Eddie yells at him. You turn halfway in Eddie’s lap so you can see Sandy, his eyes bulging at your mussed state, staring at your fallen dress strap and your nipples pressing through the fabric of your dress. You feel Eddie’s breathing speed up, a deep growl working its way in as Sandy takes more and more time to answer, undressing you with his eyes instead.

“You’re on thin fucking ice right now.” Eddie’s voice is low and dangerous as he speaks to Sandy, snapping him out of his trance. His face is completely red by the time he looks up at Eddie, jumping a bit when he sees the look in his eyes. Eddie looks like he could hospitalize him, you can feel his hand balling into a fist where it rests on your hip, his muscles tensing as he considers it.

You wrap your arm around his shoulder and place a calming hand on his chest, feeling him relax under it as Sandy finally speaks.”Sorry, sir! Y-Your five ‘o’ clocks are here. Would you like me to tell them to wait or?” You can feel Eddie’s breathing stop. You’re quite upset that you won’t be able to stay but try not to show it. You’d never want Eddie to feel bad for doing his job but he was busier and busier nowadays, and you’ve started to feel a little lonely.

Eddie’s voice booms across the room when he speaks up. “Why was I not informed?” Sandy flinches at the sound and opens his mouth to speak but a squeak is all that comes out. You can feel Eddie revving up to yell again when you start to get up from his lap, fixing your dress in the process. “Eddie it's fine, I’ll head home and see you when you’re done.” You say happily, trying to diffuse the situation and save Sandy from further reprimanding.

You lean down to place a kiss on Eddie’s head when he tears his gaze from Sandy and looks dead into your eyes. “Sit down.” He says it with such conviction, in such a commanding tone that you don't even think about questioning him. You immediately place yourself back in his lap as you were before. He keeps his eyes on yours as you sit before looking back at Sandy. “You send them in but if this ever happens again you are dead, understand?”

Sandy mumbles out a quick “Yes sir.” and rushes out of the room. Eddie takes a deep breath before looking at you and pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “You stay here. It shouldn’t be too long.” He whispers in between kisses. You bring your hand around his head and stroke his hair gingerly as he kisses you. He sighs into you when you part your lips, allowing his tongue to roam your mouth. Your hips begin to move subconsciously, pushing your pussy down on his thighs for friction when the door opens again. You pull apart from Eddie, taking a deep breath to try and calm the frustration bubbling in your chest at being interrupted again.

Prominent men and beautiful women file into the room and sit in various seats, some standing along the walls, and all intimidating to you. They await Eddie, waiting for him to kick off the meeting, waiting for him to send you out. Instead, Eddie welcomes everyone and begins stroking up and down your leg to calm you as he starts talking business. You watch Eddie as he speaks, saying a lot of things you don’t understand but you love it. You’ve only gotten to see him like this a few times, in "business" mode. He’s scared your opinion of him will change.

He’s so strong in the way he demands respect. He talks in a way that makes you want to hear what he has to say. He asserts himself and no one questions it because he carries himself and speaks with unwavering confidence. He’s almost a different person when you see him like this, talking in a gruff, angry, domineering voice that takes charge of a room. You reluctantly pull your eyes from Eddie to watch the rest of the room only to notice that almost everyone has their eyes on you. You begin to squirm uncomfortably as everyone stares and Eddie instantly notices.

“Hey!” He shouts out sharply, causing the whole room to jump, multiple people reaching for their waistbands, worrying you a bit. “Everyone’s attention seems to be divided… is there a reason?” He’s using that low, threatening tone again and it has you leaking into your dress. You watch as the terrifying characters look around nervously, steering clear of Eddie’s gaze in hopes of avoiding the question. The silence sits heavy in the air until someone speaks up, a large, burly man who has you curling in, trying to hide in Eddie’s lap.

“I guess I’m just wondering what your tramp is doing sitting in on a confidential meeting.” He says in a tough, confident, almost smug voice. You watch Eddie’s features twist into an expression of rage at the man’s words. His hands squeeze your hips momentarily before pushing you up and out of his lap slowly. Your eyes are on Eddie’s face when he reaches underneath his desk and you hear the scrape of his gun against it. You’re heart races, you’ve never seen it before. He stands at his full height, stretching his back and cracking his neck as he crosses the room, slowly walking over to the man.

You stare at his thick fingers wrapped around the silver metal, turning off the safety and cocking it. “What… the fuck did you just call my fiancée?” Eddie asks lightly, his tone is almost jovial as he presses his gun against the man’s lower stomach. You’re breathing quickly as you watch the scene unfold, you watch Eddie slide his gun up the man's body and underneath his chin when he’s met with silence instead of an answer. “What did you call my wife?”

Eddie’s finger hovers over the trigger, anticipation building inside you as you press your legs together. You feel your wetness begin to drip down your thigh when you see a smirk split Eddie’s face as the man tries to answer. “I- Ed I- I didn’t know. I thought she was just a fuck, man. I-” Eddie fires right next to the man’s ear, making you jump as the man doubles over in pain, both of his hands pressed to his ear in an attempt to stop the painful ringing.

Eddie turns to the rest of the room, ignoring the man’s groans of pain in favor of making an announcement. “If anyone even thinks of disrespecting my wife I will put a bullet in you... Consider this your first and final warning.” Eddie strides over to you, your eyes are wide and frantic and his turn apologetic when he sees yours. You look unsettled and frazzled as he seats you back in his lap. He’s still looking at the room, avoiding your gaze. “Pitch your ideas and get the fuck out.”

He’s panting while you stare at him, his eyes cold and violent until they meet yours, softening to a loving gaze instantly. He mouths out an apology as people start pitching their ideas to him. You shake your head and kiss his forehead before resting your head on his shoulder as he tunes back into his meeting. His hand starts rubbing up and down your leg again, reaching higher and higher up every time. It’s working you up, causing you to leak against his thigh and hold back whimpers. He finally gets his hand up to your inner thigh and that’s when he starts to feel your wetness. His focus goes to shit the moment he feels it, not even hesitating before pushing his hand further up your dress to come in contact with your soft, soaked pussy.

You watch his face, it’s hard as marble, stoic as he continues to listen and give feedback but you can feel him hardening in his pants again. His breath quickens and stutters as he pushes his fingers into your hot, wet cunt. His eyelids flutter as he curls them, pressing against your G-spot and feeling you clench around his digits. You can feel his other hand tighten its grip on your hip as his hips subtly push his dick up into your thighs. A satisfied grunt falls from his lips as he plays his movements off as him readjusting his position.

A whimper falls out of your mouth and against his into his neck as you bury your face in it, trying to hide your expression from the rest of the room. His fingers are thrusting deep inside you, you’re trying to regulate your breathing so you don’t alert anyone in the room but you’re struggling as you crawl towards an orgasm. Your hips start to gently thrust forward to meet Eddie’s hand, grinding his palm against your clit and whining softly into his ear.

Eddie is struggling to contain himself, growing decreasingly interested in the meeting and more in the way your body is reacting to him. Your face is resting in the crook of his neck and he can hear your whimpers as they slip out, he can feel your breath as it fans his skin. Your back is arching, he doesn't think you realize that you’re pressing your chest against him but it’s fucking him up. The way you’re yearning for him, the way your body is reaching out for him in front of everyone has him straining inside his pants.

He watches the meeting wrap up in a daze, every sense muffled to everything else, tuned in to you as you grind yourself into his lap. He can feel your arousal soaking his pants and it’s making him twitch. His hips buck into yours as his cock throbs inside his pants. He already has you standing by the time the door shuts behind the last person. Your knees are so weak that you almost collapse when he props you up against the desk. He presses your face into the hard surface and spreads your legs with his own, forcing them open and resting his legs against yours.

He’s holding both wrists behind your back with one hand as you moan and listen to him fumble with his belt and zipper. “I’m gonna fuck you so well, baby. Just how you deserve.”

You can hear him stroking himself, a wet noise resonating through the room. You’re head is spinning and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You push up onto your tip toes, trying to grind your hips back into Eddie, trying to get him inside you faster.

“Please, Eddie! N-need it so bad, please.” You beg and beg as Eddie lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in. The stretch isn’t too bad because of how worked up you are but you’re still tight enough that the initial thrust has you and Eddie moaning out. Eddie’s hand releases your wrists when he bottoms out, pulling your hips to his and holding you in place.

“Fuck, darling. You’re so perfect, so tight and wet for me. Just how I like it, huh?” He slowly wraps one hand around, grasping your throat. His wide fingers gripping gently for pressure but not cutting any air supply yet. His body is hunched over yours, caging you in and creating a curtain with his hair as he starts to gently fuck into you. His hips are moving languidly into yours, savoring the suction of your pussy every time he slides back into you. He’s groaning into your ear about how magnificent your pussy is, he’s telling you about how much he thinks of it throughout the day, how often he wishes he was buried in your instead of dealing with idiots.

You’re moaning much louder than you should be, considering you know there are people around, right outside of Eddie’s office but you just can’t hold back. Eddie brings his hand from your throat up to cover your mouth with his entire palm, the action has your eyes rolling back and just moaning louder into his hand. “F-fuck, baby. You like that?” His hips stutter as you clench around him moaning in response to his question. “I love it, Eds. Baby- Eddie please- fuck.” You gasp out against his hand, your voice muffled. You’re hips grind back against his cock as he plunges into you as deep as he can, staying there and watching you fuck yourself back on his cock.

He’s obsessed with the way your hips are moving, his hand coming up to grip his hair as he tries to calm himself. His eyes roll back and close as you desperately push your hips back against his. He’s groaning out your name with every other thrust as he starts fucking into you again, his voice beginning to sound more like a whine that has your legs giving out. You start to lose your rhythm, getting caught up in how Eddie’s cock slides against your walls, how the tip abuses your g-spot perfectly with every thrust, how he fills you to the brim so it’s all you can focus on. Eddie takes note of your struggle and gets to work. One hand goes under you to play with your clit, and the other grips your hip, stabilizing you as Eddie pounds into you with renewed energy.

“This pussy ‘s so fucking flawless, baby. Dunno what I’d do without my favorite girl.” He rambles on as he approaches his high, hyperfocused on the tightening of your pussy as he hammers into you. You can feel the heat in your stomach spreading throughout your body as your muscles tense, your legs starting to shake and your knees completely give out. Eddie flips you onto your back so you’re lying atop his desk gripping his biceps. He takes no time to thrust himself back into you, hands grasping your hips and moaning against your face before diving in for a kiss. “Gotta see that pretty face when I make you cum, love.”

You moan into his lips, feeling your pussy begin to pulse hopelessly around him. “Eddie. Eddie, I’m ‘onna c-cum. ‘M so close please-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as your hands move to his hair, fisting in it as your orgasm crashes over you. Your hands pull at his hair and rake down his arms, leaving red streaks for him to show off later.

He’s enamored with the way you look when you’re cumming. The way your eyes squeeze shut as he continues to pound into you. He can feel his stomach tensing, his balls tightening up in preparation for his load but he holds off to keep fucking you. He holds back as long as he can in favor of watching you, the way your eyebrows pull inwards when the pleasure spills into overstimulation. You whine at him to stop thrusting into you, telling him it’s “too much” and that you “c-can’t take it” but it only spurs him further.

He’s moaning your name on repeat as your senses are assaulted, pleasure stabbing between your legs with every thrust until Eddie cums hot and hard into your cunt. He folds forward with a painful groan and moans for you. His hips jerk into yours with every rope of cum that shoots out of his cock, coating and covering your walls as you milk him. He groans out when you're purposely tighten your pussy on him, prolonging and intensifying his orgasm. His arms give out and he basically collapses against you, moaning into your neck and kissing along it.

You stroke his hair as he gently thrusts into you, relishing how good you make him feel. He pulls his head from your neck and presses a loving kiss to your lips. You moan gently into his mouth and he whines in response before pulling away with a smile. He looks deep into your eyes as he presses a thumb to your bottom lip and kisses you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, his chest against yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him inside you. One of his hands is behind your head, cradling it as he kisses you gently, his other running up and down your arm soothingly. You pull away from Eddie with a dazed smile that has his smile widening as he picks you up off his desk and across the office.

He gently places you on a couch he had installed for this specific reason, there were too many times he’d fuck you in his office and you’d have to leave almost immediately after because you needed sleep or you couldn’t just stand in the corner. It made you both feel awful so he bought this couch. It barely went with the decor of his office but it was your favorite color so he doesn’t care. He rests your head on a cushion before pulling a blanket over you and kissing your forehead. You watch him through sleepy eyes as he brings some papers, his laptop, and his glasses over to the couch. He gently lifts your legs, places them in his lap and his laptop on top of them earning a little snort from you. He turns to you quickly with a surprised smile. “You still watching me? Go to sleep, baby.” He has a soft laugh throughout and rubs your leg lightly. You giggle at him and let sleep take you.

Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things au #mafia!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson smut #mafia!eddie munson x reader #mafia!eddie munson fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #luvrxasks #luvrxsmut #luvrxfics

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phoneuserhana333 · 8 months

Text

ellie and abby ending up with their polar opposites in any modern au is my RELIGION!

NSFW UNDER THE CUT! not proofread, basically just word vomit while i write neighbor!abby part 3 :>

ellie ending up with a prim and proper, short skirt and turtleneck combo, peachy-pink makeup softie who puts her in her place when needed. cool-headed when ellie gets in one of her moods, always ready to hold the brunette’s head against her chest as she cries. a girlfriend that looks like she’s made of sugar, spice and everything nice. a girlfriend that tastes like sugar, spice and everything nice. someone who ellie can both choke during sweaty, rough sex and kiss the morning after, as they bask in the warm sunlight under her girlfriend’s pink and white striped duvet. a gentle, innocent soul that hasn’t been corrupted by the world, someone ellie can hide away in her heart forever. a girlfriend who’ll bake her cookies and also let ellie raise her pastel apron to hungrily eat her out on the counter, while they wait for the timer to go off. ellie will appreciate the domestic nature, so much so that she’ll daydream about buying that breeding strap already and making your hers for good.

and don’t you dare tell her that she can’t have ten kids with you. she’ll cry.

abby, on the other hand, ends up with the artsy type; someone weird, a writer perhaps? or a painter? some poor, tortured soul that has seen it all, but when they lay their eyes on anderson, everything disappears. abby becomes her girlfriend’s muse, the subject of dramatic love confession in the rain, something from a movie it seems. someone who will drag her to hidden theaters to watch some old film from the 70s and kiss in the dark like two teenagers. she needs someone who’ll make her blush, until she switches back to her dominant side and decides to be the artist this time; abby will leave watercolor brusies on her girlfriend’s body, her fingers gripping plush hips as she grinds their cunts together. abby will finger her girlfriend into overstimulation, the tips of her fingers brushing against a spongy spot inside her, a thumb on her puffy clit and her mouth on her tummy. the blonde will become a poet; singing you praises into the night, something between “my pretty, pretty girl” and “beg me to let you come, brat”, until all she can see is shaky legs, teary eyes and an arched back.

in that moment, abby swears you’ve become her muse.

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #ellie williams #tlou #wlw #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams headcanons #abby anderson headcanons #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #tlou x reader

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krahk · 12 days

Text

Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

Part Three

(Or Alastor learns it’s never to late learn your kinks, hell welcomes all)

18+ from here on out to be safe.

Warnings: entering smutty content near the end, written by an amateur. No smutty smut, but it’s beginning from here on out. I am opening that can of worms.

You really hoped you were harder to kill in hell, because these people simply had no sense of preservation of life in them. First full day in hell and you had been invited to a BDSM club, thrown off of a roof and hid from gunfire trying to keep the creepy little janitor from jumping into the crossfires. Trust exercises were not supposed to be life threatening, but the mania of the day had certainly made it harder for you to focus on your situation for the time being. Back at the hotel you gratefully accepted a drink from Husk as the group recapped the day they had just gone through. For a bunch of terrible sinners, they were pretty alright. Like when you were all alive, the group of you was simply trying to get by day by day.

You had learned that Angel was a porn star in Hell, Nifty’s kinks were both frightening and dangerous (mostly to her, but still), Husk you were certain liked nobody, and Vaggie was an aggressive woman who had no issues throwing you through the fire if she thought it would make you a better person on the other side.

You supposed there were worse people to attach yourself to given your situation. Part of you was grateful that you landed in a place that offered you a place to stay, food to eat with a generous host who made sure you were dressed and comfortable all around. Even though you had processed your death fairly quickly (that was normal, according to Angel) you did know that you could have it so much worse and be dealing with everything alone.

Grateful that everyone was heading to their own quarters when Alastor had returned with the little egg creatures, you made sure to avoid hovering your attention in his direction and ran upstairs after Angel, who had the room next to yours. While passing by Alastors room he had pointed a finger towards his open mouth and gagged, to which you could only respond with a forced chuckle. You waved goodnight to him as you opened your room door and found yourself falling onto the bed and passing out before your head even hit the pillow. Day one, over.

After a few weeks of Hell, you had settled into a comfortable routine. In the mornings you would join the others in the lounge for breakfast and coffee, you would all chat and discuss the next redemption plans before everyone would set off on their own plans for the day if Charlie and Vaggie didn’t have an exercise planned. You still had not left the safety of the building, knowing from your first day that it was strictly mean streets out there. Charlie had grabbed you a few more articles of clothing to complete your meagre wardrobe, and you were not picky in the slightest so you accepted your role as a doll she could dress up. She had picked a lot of modest, but cute A-line dresses, shorter skirts with turtlenecks, a suit - she had a clear preference of clothing seeing as your new items closely resembled her and Vaggie’s overall style. One thing you were grateful for was that the shoes she chose you didn’t require you to wear socks. Like your arms, your legs were black from the end of your limbs until your joint, where the black faded after it passed the knee. So it always looked like you were wearing little stockings. In your time in Hell getting comfortable in your new skin you had also discovered a scattering of black and white freckles on your shoulders and upper arms. You found yourself to be one of the luckier sinners, because your feet were still feet. Many souls like yours had come to hell with hooved feet, but you received a tail instead, which was not quite as common.

Angel had been your link to the world outside, he was constantly on his phone and for some lucky reason the underworld had a similar system of communication like earth. Cell phones, social media, advertisements, etc. It was truly not a far cry from what you knew. He had given you an older phone of his to use, the hotel members being the only contacts in your phone (minus Nifty & Alastor, for which you were grateful) and the two of you texted on the daily, him quickly becoming the closest member of the group to you. Even though Husk was the most recent being to die aside from you, Angel was the most willing to adapt to change. He effortlessly weaved through this complicated lifestyle with ease. He was confident, smart, and an all around great guy. If he would consider easing up on the partying and perhaps manage a way to distance himself from his industry he really would be an excellent candidate for redemption.

Alastor had still not spoken with you since your initial confrontation. Not that you were complaining but it was getting to the point that Angel had noticed his distance from you. It was if he was deliberately avoiding any chance that the two of you would end up in the same room. When asked about the radio, you found that even if you wanted to mention what you thought were unimportant details of it, your tongue snapped to the bottom of your mouth, preventing words from coming out. You had lamely said it was a motel item that got caught in your descent and you really had no idea why it followed you. Charlie had simply declared that possessions must occasionally follow a soul, but usually souls don’t fall in a space with decent people who won’t steal your stuff. It was simply considered an anomaly and after the first week thankfully people seemed to forget about it.

And while Alastor might have prevented you from mentioning anything to anyone about the symbols that were in the radio, it didn’t prevent you from researching the symbols. Charlie had a very extensive collection of books in the hotel library that you had been working your way through. Since you had no job and minimal expectations, you were sifting through the books quickly. And because Angel had left in a rush for a shoot earlier in the morning, your recent hobby started a few hours earlier than usual. You had made your way through a large portion of the ‘Historical Literature’ section before hearing a commotion outside of the library. With your ears being so sensitive it was easy for you to not make a sound while honing in on what was being said. It was more Husk and Angel bickering, but this one sounded worse than usual, ending with Angel storming out of the hotel and Vaggie immediately harping on Husk about his behaviour.

You shot a quick message to Angel by text, getting a read notification but no response. Oof, he was really in a mood. You sent another one telling him you were there when he was ready and a heart emoji, which resulted in a heart being sent in return. Husk had followed him shortly after so you weren’t too worried about how his night would go.

You had started sifting through the next category of books, which appeared to be something of a ‘Human Magic’ section. It appeared to start right at the beginning of humanity’s creation, which meant this was another hefty subject you’d have to filter through. You were only going shelf by shelf because you had started with ‘Runework’, ‘Salem Witchcraft’ and ‘Hell’s Overlords’, hoping to find the information right away with no luck.

Your phone vibrated and you absentmindedly opened the message from Angel, and your stomach dropped.

‘I need help.’

You tried calling and the phone went straight to voicemail, disconnecting as his mailbox was full. You shot out of the library and looked around. With Husk going after Angel, was he in trouble as well? Damn you wished Husk carried a phone. Vaggie and Charlie were also absent from the hotel or at least very very quiet with whatever they were doing.

You decided there was no time to hesitate and you went out the front door, running straight for the Vee’s district in an attempt to remember every bar that Angel had mentioned frequenting in the past. He was a famous porn star, surely someone had noticed the giant spider passing by them on the street. It wasn’t as if he was capable of being a wallflower after all.

You had started into a light jog as soon as you hit main street, the people out and about making you nervous. You were grateful that your new form allowed you to run without any difficulty, the benefits of being a deer hybrid being in your favour today. You ran quickly towards the bright district, making it there in a short period of time, and merging with a larger crowd entering. It seemed dangerous making it obvious that you were out on your own. You were due for trouble after all, it had been a fairly calm life since keeping your distance from him.

The group you had followed went straight into an arcade bar. Great. You were certain that Angel wasn’t here, games weren’t his thing but the giant windows peering into the establishment made it easy to recognize that he wasn’t present. You had made it a few blocks before trying to call Angel again, with it still failing. During your second attempt you noticed that there were a few people heading your way on the sidewalk so you shrunk over to the edge of the building to give them room to move past you.

But you found yourself bumping into one of them who deliberately stayed in your path, and when you looked at their face you came eye to eye with a wolf demon smiling and growling down at you. You glanced around you and noticed that you were surrounded by two additional wolves and your back pressed against the wall behind you in an attempt to create some space away from them.

“Hey baby,” The one you ran into started, “Eager for a good time? Can’t keep your hands off of me?” The other two laughed, one even licking his lips before his friend continued. ”You look cute, how about we find some privacy?” He stepped towards you with his arm reaching for yours and you took a step away, right into the other wolf. Shit. The three laughed at you shoving the one aside and walking backwards to try and make a gap, but they were advancing quickly. Panicking, you threw the only thing you had on you - the phone - with which the corner smacked one of them squarely in the eye, making him shout in pain. Another jumped at you and you quickly dodged his lunge by bracing a hand on his head and leaping over him to start into a sprint once your feet hit the ground.

Note for next time: Heels are super cute, but super terrible to run in, because they caught up to you quickly, despite your quick escape. One wolf immediately punched you in the face, causing your nose to have a minor explosion of blood shoot out of it, which made your brain rattle.

”You might just be cuter like this,” One guy said, pulling your arm so hard you lost your balance and was dragging behind him as the three took you into the closest alleyway. “We could have had a nice night, but you had to go and fuck it up. Now you’ll get what’s coming to ya.” The one who held your arm roughly lifted you back to your feet and slammed you against the brick wall, making your head hit it just as hard. It was getting hard to think about a way out, your head was so foggy.

“Hey this bitch was texting Angel Dust!” One of the guys said, probably the one who had her phone thrown to his face. “She’s got to be a dirty slut! Have you seen any of his shit? It’s messed up man, we got ourselves a wild one here!” He cheered, whooping with the other demon who wasn’t holding you up. You made eye contact with your captor and he was growling low with a sinister smile on his face.

”Lucky us! Prime meat for free? Baby I’ll make your night better than anyone you’ve ever been w-“ his words were cut off, as his neck suddenly had a black tentacle wrapped around it, squeezing so hard his eyeballs were protruding out of their sockets. You fell to your ass, legs bent on the ground, hands trying to steady your swaying head. Looking over you saw the bodies of the other wolves, already separated into a few pieces, some appendages being swung around by the tentacles.

Looking forward you noticed who came to your rescue. It was Alastor, and he was pissed. Thankfully not at you, although you certainly had a concussion so there was a chance you were misinterpreting the situation. He said something to your assaulter about how to be a gentleman and ‘perhaps he would discover how to treat a lady in his next life’ before all the tentacles had wrapped about his and his friends bodies before disappearing with them into the ground. Your surroundings now quiet except for your heavy breathing, you watched Alastor take even, steady steps towards your fallen form.

“Well now! Haven’t you got yourself in a bit of trouble, hmm?” He taunted, entirely too chipper. Closing one eye and squinting the other to avoid seeing double, you noticed that he had blood on his face, under his nose, which you apparently pointed at, because he raised a brow and questioned it.

”Blood on your face.” You said with a bit of a slur, “S’little bit here.” And pointed to your own nose, fingers getting coated in blood. His hand reached up to his face and he touched his nose, only for blood to begin to flow from it. Shocked, he grabbed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at it while he frowned at you before offering a second handkerchief to you. You shook your head, well tried too, and said something about being sleepy.

”Now, now, sleeping after a head injury is most certainly bad for you!” He chirped, putting his handkerchiefs away now that his face was clean. He leaned over to inspect your injuries, taking note of your head and nose specifically.

“Care to explain why you are wandering about on your own my dear? Itching for a second death?” He asked in a condescending manner. “Quite foolish of you really, to come without an escort - why you are quite lucky I happened to be around, darling!” He waved his hand about in a dramatic fashion before offering his hand to you, lifting you up. On your feet you dusted off what rubble had got on you, found your phone settled on the ground a few feet away and began to try and walk to it only to find that your balance was way off course. With one hand holding your head you reached for your phone, noticing new texts from Angel.

‘with my script later, are you free?’ Followed with: ‘Sorry babe! That first message didn’t send all the way, love ya xoxo’

For fuck sakes.

”Hmm?”Alastor hummed, looking down at your phone, reading the messages. “Oh-ho! So you were on a rescue mission were you? Noble indeed, considering your naivety and lack of knowledge of any part of Hell outside the hotel.”

You shot him a nasty glance. “I was worried.” Augh. Pathetic response.

“Very stupid thing to do, really.” Picking at one of his claws, attempting to be indifferent. “Very stupid indeed, especially since I have just had an unfortunate revelation.”

”Hmm?” You responded, still trying to get the throbbing in your head to settle down. “I know it was stupid,” agreeing with him made him in a good mood, Husk had told you, “But I had to try and find him, I don’t think he has many people to depend on.”

He gave you a look of contempt. He really did not care for anyone other than himself.

“You and I need to have a chat darling.” His eyes narrowed as he wrapped a hand around your upper arm, painfully putting pressure on a new bruise from the previous baddie. He dragged you alongside him, holding you so close to him you could feel the heat of his body through his jacket. “Say nothing until we make it to the hotel my dear, there are always eyes on us out here.” He gestured with his microphone cane in a wide sweep, indicating literally every where could be listening. You obeyed him by not responding which kept Alastor in a good mood during the walk home.

However upon arrival, he dragged your sorry ass through his shadow travel again, but thankfully to your room. More specifically your bathroom. He gestured for you to sit down, which you did on the edge of the tub, and watched him gather a pathetic amount of first aid. He removed his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his right hand, almost all the way up to the elbow. You noticed his arms were covered in scars that stood out from his black skin that was similar to your own pattern, except fading away before the joint of his elbow. The scars were all thin and bright white, a stark contrast. However what he was looking at intensely was a large bruise that had formed right below his elbow, right above the fade of his black skin. He then turned to you and grabbed your right arm and lined up the two. You had a much darker bruise that matched his. Weird. Didn’t Pentious say that no one had landed a hit on Alastor before? And that a small piece of coat was all he himself had managed to get? So how did those stupid wolves get up on him? And when?

The room had a massive chill fill the air as Alastor processed what he was thinking. What was he thinking? Could you talk now? Should you? You should at least thank him.

”Thank-“

”Quiet.” he interrupted. No filter on his voice for that one. Just a deep, sharp command.

Your lips tightened into a thin line and you nodded despite your killer headache. He released your arm and went back to the counter. With his jacket off you could see that he, too, had a small deer tail on his backside. It was red and black, much like his hair. It was probably the only cute thing about him, and you’d die before you said that out loud. Alastor came back to you with a warm wet cloth and some antiseptic. He instructed you to wipe up the blood on your face and he wiped a few of your more surface scrapes that were on your legs and knees. You narrowed your own eyes, why on earth was he doing this? It was as if he was trying to memorise every little injury you had received. Once you felt as if you had removed all the dried blood from your face you braced both hands on either side of you as you watched Alastor tend to your wounds. When he was quiet and focused he wasn’t too terribly frightening, but in the way that a poisonous snake might be. Obviously dangerous, possibly venomous, and could certainly kill you given the chance, but still captivating to watch. He released a huff of air when he was done checking out your head, just a bump he said, he moved to your nose. He had gently grasped your chin and moved your head from side to side, where he traced some of the worst damage with his free hand.

“Not broken, my dear, but guaranteed to have a couple of black eyes by this evening.” He announced. “You shall not be leaving your room until you have healed or found a way to cover those up.” Man was he bossy. He put his coat back on and leaned into the mirror to check his own face before tapping the floor with his microphone for your attention. His shadows enveloped the small room, and it was as if you were sitting on a void of nothingness, large symbols hovering around you in green. And just as quick as the dark arrived it disappeared with another few taps from his cane.

“Preventative measures darling, we cannot have anyone listening in on us.”

”Uhh…okay? Okay. Why?” Why are you so creepy?

”Creepy keeps the fear alive darling.” Well shit, that last bit was said out loud. Stupid concussion. “I think it is time to discuss the Radio, because you have proven to be a thorn in my side that I cannot simply be rid of with my usual methods.”

You nod along with each word slowly and focus on the last bit - the usual methods? “Do you mean eating people?” the statement escaped your loose lips, feeling drunk from the head injury .

His smile turned even more wicked if that was a possibility, eyes and teeth glowing like dim lamps. “Among other things…” He trailed off, closing his eyes and being sure to cock his head up in a very proud manner. He seemed pleased you had heard some of the more…graphic methods of dealing with other demons. His cool composure only lasted a moment. Once he opened his eyes, his mood was icy, eyes sharp and narrowed as he came a little closer without overwhelming your personal space and spoke bluntly, radio voice effect gone, “It appears as if you have linked our souls into an agreement that even I am unable to break.” He stared into your eyes, his fury palpable. You frowned in response out of both confusion and fear.

“What do you mean? I don’t even know who you are! I still don’t know who you are, how can we possibly be…like that…?” You ended lamely, hands wildly gesturing between the two of you. He had surely made a mistake, because this sort of thing just didn’t happen. Besides, you had only met him after death, so there was simply a misunderstanding. You shook your head in denial, causing blood to leak out of one nostril.

“A-hem” He said, getting your focus back on his face. His nose, same nostril, now had a slow trail of blood trickling out. He stood straight and a handkerchief appeared in his hand to dap his face while you grabbed some bathroom tissue off the roll beside you. It was hard to meet his eyes as it was obvious he was upset with you.

Attempting to end the silence, you spoke up. “Did you get hit as well? Your nose has been bleeding just as much as mine.” His eyebrows arched so high it was lost within his hairline, the stretched skin the only visual evidence of his reaction.

“No. I do not get hit.” He scoffed. “This is a result of the damage you incurred today my dear.”

Your lack of reaction, compounded with the cold molasses that was currently your brain, made him sigh and begin his explanation.

”The Radio was mine as a young man. It never worked quite right, so I was constantly repairing it. But this was before my Radio Show! So fixing instead of purchasing new was all I could do at the time. I would have kept it forever if I could, it was one of the only things my mother had given me on her own.” He had started picking under his middle finger with his thumbnail, trying to appear indifferent to his admission. You caught on to the way his voice softened when his mother was mentioned but you weren’t inviting death over tonight so you kept a straight face.

“Just before my career took off, I had been dabbling with some other gifts that came from my mothers side. Her ancestors were practitioners of creole magic, something that I am familiar with, but not proficient enough to use in my day to day.” Eyes back to you, he continued on. “The symbols in the radio were a deal I made with it, naively, early on in my practising. I was certain I would become a radio star, first of my kind, and well, sometimes we do questionable things while drinking.” He rolled his eyes at that, resulting in a smirk on your own face. “A friend and I had quite a night out! She knocked my radio over and the back panel came off. I cut myself on a stray piece of metal inside, cutting myself quite deep-“ He opened his palm with the scar to stare into it. “Beyond my better judgement I wrote, in my own blood, symbols I was not familiar with and apparently created unfinished magic that was only completed and sealed when your blood went over my runes.”

Still confused, you gave him a look that caused him to roll his eyes at you, as if you were the malicious force at play here and continued.

”What was a foolish act of an immature man at the end of a bottle of rye has now tethered our souls together. Akin to,” he shuddered, “Soulmates. However where fate might have chosen different paths for our souls, we have become united through dark magic powered behind the power I hold now, which is significantly stronger than when I wrote the symbols within the machine.” His smile was tight, still present as always, but certainly not the smile of a happy man.

But wait - “I don’t have any magic though, so why…?” You started, trying to steer the conversation away from the dreaded admission of the demon.

“Your being has little to no effect, my dear. The deal I was attempting to make with the Radio relied on magic supplied by me and me alone, as one cannot make a Radio respond to such a request.” One hand came up to his temple to put pressure on it, like you would do when you had a headache. “Foolish, foolish man.” He said, quickly and quietly, your ears picking it up as if he made no attempt to remain unheard. “And because the deal was made in blood, with the same instrument, on the same hand, even - I suspect that blood is our tether. Some link love or minds, so they can reciprocate feelings and thoughts to a person of their choice. And due to my being well, dead, the only thing we were able to link was our blood. In layman’s terms, darling - you bleed, I bleed. Your blood rushes to an impact, my blood rushes to an impact. You blush and, augh, etc. Do you understand?”

”Yes. But that honestly sounds ridiculous, and would be hard to believe if I didn’t die and land in hell a month ago. But I will admit, my knowledge of creole magic is absolutely zero, straight up nothing, so this was honestly just an unfortunate…mistake, that we can possibly undo?” You said with hesitancy at the end, but Alastor shook his head before you were even done speaking.

“I have looked into it extensively, and I am afraid it is not something we can separate - not even with Death. You die, I die. And I have far too much unfinished business to bow down to death just yet.”

“Oh, super duper!” You replied, chipper like Charlie. His face dropped at your tone, frowning down at you.

“No, not ‘super duper’, finger quotes around his snarky repetition, “Quite terrible for me actually. You have become my greatest liability. I am not worried I will get either of us in any kind of danger, but as we have both learned this evening, you are incapable of even walking on your own without getting into trouble.” His microphone now bracing both of his hands in front of his body.

Well excuse you for being a basic, simple individual without knowing everything about everything in the whole wide world, and also not knowing anything about the thing that Alastor told you not to talk about? This guy was an asshole on so many levels that you missed when he just left you alone.

”Well, I’m sorry that you’re stuck with me, because it was totally my plan for this to happen.” Giving him a deadpanned look that made him smile tighter out of…well, you didn’t really know. He wasn’t that easy to read when he wasn’t angry.

“That is quite enough funny business for today, I am afraid that your galavanting around Hell will stop immediately. You will stay within the confines of this hotel. You will stay in your room during the extermination-“

”This is bullshit! I am a free person to do whatever! You can’t control me like this-“ He was growing again, filling the small bathroom with his demonic figure.

“Foolish girl, I can do whatever I want with you!” He growled, tendrils coming up from the shadowed ground to wrap themselves around your calves and wrists, another wrapping itself in your hair to control your head, forcing you to look right into his demonic eyes.

“I have been kind, considering your unfortunate and pathetic self has been on my nerves since the moment you arrived. You are a senseless creature who-“ he choked on his words, pausing as his smile lowered. You were breathing much harder now, and suddenly it made sense why you were so unbothered by the BDSM club Angel brought the group to. This was turning you on, being helpless and controlled by such a force like Alastor. Still staring at each other face to face, you could see a blush start to spread like a brand across his cheeks. His breath began to match yours, and you shifted your ass that was still seated on the bathtub edge in a vain attempt to get comfortable. In record time you had become wet from the situation. You were turned on, girl, and he was feeling the same effects. Wherever the blood rushes was no lie.

You started to laugh at the situation, manically as you realised what had happened. He was still frozen in place, clearly unsure of how to proceed. He needed to teach you a lesson, to know who was in charge of this unwanted union but obviously this was doing nothing but cause your blood to rush to your cunt, because he felt a pressure almost unfamiliar to him below his navel. He was disgusted that you were causing this reaction from him, he was an elevated creature with no need for carnal pleasures. And now you were laughing at him.

The tendrils released from your person so quickly that the movement caused you to slide back into the tub, hitting the bottom of the tub with your ass, but catching the sides with your elbows to prevent your head from smacking backwards. Alastor had returned to his usual form, blush still visible on his cheeks but definitely going away as you yourself had woken from your horny stupor.

“I believe I have made my point. Perhaps I am being far too protective of you, we will have to discuss a proper method to exist in spite of our situation. I expect reasonable suggestions when we revisit the topic. For now I will leave you be, as your injuries have been attended to and have already begun the healing process. Does all of this sound reasonable to you?” Wow, how quickly the tables have turned, being turned on was obviously not something he had thought of dealing with, and it was easy to get you going. Certainly more so now that you had so much more peach fuzz on your skin as a deer hybrid - you were extra sensitive to any touch. Perhaps that was why Alastor disliked physical touch as well? Your smiling of this thought clearly made him wary of you at this moment. He repeated his last sentence again.

”Yes, Alastor, it sounds reasonable. We can talk about a game plan later, and I promise I will try to make it as easy as possible.”

He nodded at your answer and narrowed his eyes with a slight smile, “Good Girl.”

You felt the shocking return of arousal at those words and released a very small “oh!”, and he sank into his shadows immediately, leaving you alone in the bathtub bruised and turned on.

Well, turns out you had a praise kink too.

***********

First three parts is over 11K word wise. I can’t stop writing, I’m at 32k now, I just keep plugging away editing/writing/thinking. I’m so grateful for all the likes and comments.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor smut #hazbin hotel #soulmates trope #alastorxreader #Alastor x ofc

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blackopals-world · 28 days

Text

So this is Love?

Ace Trappola x Jester!Yuu

Ace trying to understand what is happening to him.

Ace doesn't do relationships. He's tried before and yeah he was an asshole. He can't admit it but he was so bored. It was the first date and yeah, she was pretty but he was tired already.

It's not like he led her on. He just didn't pretend he liked her. It's so goddamn exhausting. Ace didn't pretend he was the good guy in this.

He assumed that love and relationships just weren't his thing. Which was fine, but now...now it's different.

Ace originally thought Heartslabyul was going to be so lame. All the rules and no time to cut back but damn that was before Yuu showed up. Someone who knew how to have fun. The saving grace of Heartslabyul, the royal jester.

Every room they enter everyone lights up. Waiting for them tella joke or do a trick. Always bloating around in those elaborate costumes and leaving a trail of glitter as they pass.

Their makeup perfectly framed their face. Their lips were painted the perfect Heartslabyul rose-red against lily white.

Was he going insane? Did he think that their clown was attractive? Seriously?!

Sure, they sang well, had a sweet voice, a silly way of talking, looked good in those gaudy outfits, did that thing with their tongue when they focused in helping frost cakes, looked adorable then they tripped over a paint can and somersaulted over it with a smile ad covered in paint. That didn't mean he liked them.

If anything it was purely physical attraction.

He could ignore these feelings.

Ignore every time they pulled him in for another cake heist, every dance they had during parties, every time they whispered a joke in his ear, every kiss on the cheek they gave away carelessly, every hug that made felt so warm and comforting it made him feel like his chest was being crushed.

Could he ignore every daydream that felt like a dumb teen romcom? Like going on beach trips together, going to concerts, going to a real dance together as dates, and being able to kiss them in front of the school.

But Ace is realistic. He doesn't do relationships.

He's sure of it.

Watching them sit at Riddle's side on the special seat made just for them made it clear. Yuu was an existence that didn't belong to him or anyone for that matter. Yuu was here to make everyone happy and his feeling were just a part of that.

Man, that's fucked up...

Because no rationalizing made the feeling go away.

He wished sometimes he had taken Riddle's place. Then at least Yuu would be his jester. That would be nice, but there's no use sighing over it.

Ace had chosen to be content with being Yuu's friend until he was faced with the most undeniable proof.

One evening he ended up staying out late but rather than being yelled at by Riddle or punished by Trey he decided to stay at Ramshackle for the night.

Ace had no idea who answered the door. They were kind of plain-looking. No makeup, no glitter, hair was worn loosely, and a pair of glasses. They didn't look anything like Yuu but it was Yuu all the same.

Ace felt out of place as Yuu welcomed him inside. Yuu looked so relaxed and less energized.

"I'm just making dinner for me and Grim but I made extra in case you're hungry." Yuu said softly their voice was a bit scratchy at the end. " Sorry, I usually don't talk much after work. I use it so much it tends to hurt."

Ace only nodded, he didn't think he could talk if he tried either. He was still in shock.

Yuu in their dressed down style looked so...cute. Ace acknowledged it bitterly.

Yuu wore a thin turtleneck sweater and jeans which reminded Ace of a librarian maybe or perhaps a studious academic. Both things are not like Yuu at all or at least how people saw Yuu.

They ended up spending the evening watching comedy shows while Yuu studied. Yuu was actually very dedicated to their craft and read books on many subjects like crafting, chemistry, music, and politics.

"A true jester knows how to entertain but also knows their role is also to advise." They said highlighting the text.

As the night went on Yuu changing into a set of stary Pj's and put Grim to bed. Then the two of them watched shows until they fell asleep on the couch together.

As he listened to Yuu's soft heartbeat and even breaths Ace knew he had to give up.

Ace didn't do relationships...until now. Because now he was in love.

#ace trapolla x yuu #jester!yuu #yuuniverse #twst ace #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #ace trapolla x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst yuu

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the-floral-perspective · 3 months

Text

Look headcannons | Creepypasta + mood boards!

This includes style and how I imagine their normal fits in this modern day. Also like race n whatnot.

Also, their everyday outfit is what they wear to kill their assignments! Their general aesthetics is like stuff they wear around the house or when they buy groceries or smthing. I’m sorry if I generally describe them the same way, but I promise how I vision them is different. Once I learn to draw it’s literally over for y’all.

Their everyday outfits are typically similar and nothing like their general aesthetic because of convenience reasons.

I don’t ever follow cannon so please don’t hate! Also don’t take the bodies too seriously! Y’all are beautiful just the way you are.

Jeff the killer

Face: triangle shaped face, slightly upturned nose with a slight curve from breaking his nose, hooded bright blue eyes, sharp jawline, thin lips. Unhealed but healing mouth scars, slightly discolored blotchy skin and unusually wide eyes. Wears guyliner. His mouth scars are like wide open btw. Super thin eyebrows tbh.

Physic: he’s got some boob, 5’11. Wide shoulders, a lil toned, but he’s got some squish. He’s got some MADDDD cake. His legs are hella muscular too.

General Aesthetic: lazy edge lord. Sweatpants, band tshirts, converse, slides. BLACK CROCS. Kinda pink sometimes tho, but that’s only cuz of Ben’s influence. He’s got a crazy collection of pajama pants tho (he has my kuromi pants from a secret Santa gift)

Everyday outfit: black ripped skinny jeans, black hoodie with a black turtleneck underneath. Wears some nice earrings tho and has an eyebrow piercing. Has a similar strap to EJ, but just on his thigh, it carries his knife and money. So yes he has a thigh strap.

Jane the Killer

Face: oval shaped face, bow shaped lips, high cheekbones, dark brown upturned eyes, upturned nose. Skin is a little patchy from the past burns, otherwise she is almost fully healed due to Slenders help. Has slight gashes on her cheeks but they’re mostly closed. Thicc arched eyebrows.

Physic: pear shaped, more booty than her chest. 5’8, seems a lot taller. A bit bony, long armed and long legged. A little toned, tho her arms especially, she’s got some DEFINEEED arms.

General Aesthetic: elegant lady going to the art museum. Wears a lot of longer pleated skirts (either knee length or longer), long silk dresses, heels, occasional converse. Shirts are form fitting and typically elegant or professional. Loves silk, satin fabrics and the occasional velvet.

Everyday outfit: a black sleeveless turtleneck with black flared pants and black fingerless gloves. When it gets really cold she wears a dark red coat with grey fur on the lining. Has a thigh strap and a chest strap to carry her weapons.

Ben Drowned

Face: heart shaped face, male button nose, small lips, completely black eyes with blood running down them. Pale skin and hella sharp cheekbones. Sharp ass jaw too.

Physic: 5’9. Broad shoulders, a little scrawny. Defined chest and shoulders, his stomach hella toned, he doesn’t got much cake but a barely adequate one. No boobs for this guy either. No honka honka for him :(

General Aesthetic: a lil punk and a lil basic. Like he wears a lot of plaid and also a lot of baggy band tshirts, so not really but sort of. He’s got the emo hair, he wears green plaid skinny jeans with a graphic tshirt and black combat boots a lot. Or converse. He’s got a lot of facial piercings too. So he’s just barely punk. He’s getting there tho.

Everyday outfit: a light green baggy tunic that kinda has a deep V 😏 and some black baggy pants that the tunic is tucked into. His shoes are black combat boots. Across his waist he wears a brown leather belt that has a small compartment on his hip where he can put his shit in.

Clockwork

Face: downturned lips, tan skin, a clock for an eye. Her other eye is monoloid shaped tho and brown. Hair is dark brown and messy straight. Button nose definitely.

Physic: pretty boxy and muscular. 5’11. She doesn’t have much boob or butt since she’s so muscular. There is a slight contrast between her chest and her stomach, but not that much. She’s defined and toned.

General Aesthetic: it switches everyday. Sometimes she’s pretty tomboy and other times she’s 2000 emo. She wears converse, short shorts, low waisted pants that have the bedazzled butt pockets, cropped tshirts and tank tops. So maybe 2000s party girl?

Everyday outfit: black zip up hoodie with fur lining the neck, lowrise dark blue bootcut jeans, dark red tank top. Brown ankle boots.

Ticci Toby

Face: male version of a button nose, diamond shaped face, bow shaped lips, multiple face piercings (snakebites, eyebrow piercing), slight stache on his chin and above his mouth (he shaves). Fluffy brown hair. The gash on his mouth is basically healed. Very very pale skin, pretty hazel eyes u could get lost in forever. Average brown eyebrows.

Physic: almost concerningly skinny, like he just barely makes the mark of being healthy. It’s cause he forgets to eat. 6’1. His shoulders are broad but he’s like a triangle if anything. Not much cake :(

General Aesthetic: boring white boy. Nowadays he only wears turtlenecks and tank tops with some boring ass pants. Tho they are tight on him 😏 he left behind his old hoodie habit. He picked up motorcycling gloves and vans.

Everyday outfit: a black, long sleeved, form fitted turtleneck with a black back harness for his axe’s. Black skinny jeans and converse for convenience. He still wears his goggles and face mask!

Judge Angels

Face: triangle shaped face, her chin has a prominent point. Almond shaped black eyes, heart shaped lips. Olive toned skin, pretty tan. Has a prominent crack on her left canine tooth. Upturned nose, crooked smile. Blond straight hair that greatly contrasts her skin. Blond short eyebrows.

Physic: short and petite, 5’2. Lean, doesn’t really have much muscle, or at least doesn’t look it. Pretty flat chested and a normal ass. She has calves of steal tho.

General Aesthetic: white and messy, likes baggier clothing and more trashy punk looks. Like she wears Tripp pants, oversized tshirts, big hoodies. She doesn’t really wear makeup except for some shittily done eyeliner. Her hair is still blond but now it has the occasional black streak.

Everyday outfit: one of those baggy tops that have the cuts down the sides yk what I’m talking about? Anyways it’s white with a bunch of charcoal on it that she stole from Bloody painter. For bottoms she wears black knee high combat boots and a pair of black, low waisted, wide leg shorts. Obviously under the shirt she has a sports bra. She also wears fishnet gloves.

Puppeteer

Face: Grecian nose, dark gray skin, almond shaped yellow eyes, a square shaped face, medium lips. I think his teeth are hella white tbh but he’s definitely got fangs of some sort. Thicc black brows.

Physic: pretty boxy, like he’s lean n all, but he is kinda straight up and down. Average cake, average waist, average muscle and tone. He’s still hawt tho, his hands 😩 6’3

General Aesthetic: helluva boss reject. Wears trench coats and boots and skinny jeans, business pants. The occasional hoodie. Doesn’t wear a beanie anymore. Or converse. Tho his wardrobe has lots of skulls. He kinda does a 360 with his wardrobe, going for more of an old school pirate vibe.

Everyday outfit: wears a long black trench coat that clips in the middle of his waist, black skinny pants, below the knee black boots, black button up (the last three buttons unbuttoned) are underneath his trench coat.

Nurse Ann

Face: diamond shaped face, button nose, mid/weaker jawline, thiccer lips, not a prominent cupids bow. Definitely pale/Greyish skin tone. Her hair is brown and is like boob length, also somewhat wavy.

Physic: curvy, kind of apple/pear shaped. She’s definitely well endowed with the bewbs and butt, has a more rounded stomach too, has thicc thighs and calves as well. 5’4.

General Aesthetic: fantasia 2000 princess type beat. I feel like she’s a huge fan of midnight blue and fantasy type of outfits. She loves dresses of any length with frill, lace and intricate designs. She loves puffy/billowed sleeves and mostly wears flats or boot heels. She’s also particular about silver star/moon designs.

Everyday outfit: I don’t think her outfit changed at all tbh, I think she still wears the black nurse costume and hat, tho I do think she’s added more weapons in her collection. I think she’s started focusing on needles and chemical injecting, tho she still uses her iconic chainsaw.

Bloody Painter

Face: oval shaped face, thin lips, bright blue almond shaped eyes, Grecian nose, a lil tan ngl, black messy hair (idk how to describe his haircut tho, it’s a lil long, straight and fluffy??)

Physic: kind of in the average or boney ratio. He has bony hands and forearms but aside from that he’s got medium sized shoulders and a slightly smaller waist. Ngl I feel like he does have some random curve at the bottom so some honka cake, but not much. 5’11

General Aesthetic: painter in despair. I think he likes Jean jackets, he’s like the male version of arthoe. He likes black/blue jeans, kinda looks like he came from the outsiders, wears baggy leather jackets too. Mostly sticks with tshirts with random bull on it. Also always has a brown satchel with him.

Everyday outfit: I feel like black cargo pants, black turtleneck and a black chest harness, probably combat boots too. On his chest he still has the smiley pin, but aside from that, for his assignments he goes pretty neutral and just for convenience. EJ totally helped him pick out his outfit too his first assignment.

Rouge

Face: square shaped face, upturned nose, chubby cheeks, vintage shaped lips?? Idk how to describe it. I feel like her hair is a messy black Bob now, but like pretty messy I mean it. Kinda tan. Definitely has freckles.

Physic: 5’7, pretty boxy. The best I can describe her is like Audrey Hepburn built. Idk why I feel like her and A.H are so similar. She’s boney and relatively small like that.

General Aesthetic: a little vintage sometimes, like she switches decades a lot. She wears fashion trends from the 1950s to modern day, both feminine and masculine styles. So she wears dresses, miniskirts, jeans, colored turtlenecks. Really her closet is very alive. She has stolen from her assignments hella tho ngl.

Everyday outfit: a black miniskirt with a tighter grey turtleneck, red tights, black calf length boots. When it’s cold she has a cropped jacket with a fuzzy hood and insides.

Masky

Face: oval shaped face, tan skin, dark brown hair (short and messy,) dark brown eyes, uhhh mid-somewhat sharp jawline, straight nose.

Physic: strong, average short 5’9. Builds more bulk, has strong arms and shoulders but a smaller waist, he’s got some MADD V-line. He’s got a nice smackable amount of cake.

General Aesthetic: 😏😏😏. He wears flannels, darker colored skinny jeans, SOMETIMES THO he wears 70’s pants that are like right around the hips and like highwaisted and whatnot with a sleeveless cropped tshirt. He’s oddly vintage with stuff like that, but in a rock singer type of way. He only just started getting into this tho.

Everyday outfit: dark blue skinny jeans, black tshirt, tan jacket that has a LOTTA compartments.

Laughing Jill

Face: button nose, oval shaped face, high cheekbones, an average (a lil weak) jawline, pale skin, black irises. Thinner lips. Thin slightly arched eyebrows.

Physic: southern mommy. SORRY. 6’2 tho Bc shes mythical. I think she’s a wide hourglass too?? Like she is big chested and she def has a gyatt, she’s got tummy. She isn’t really defined at all.

General Aesthetic: Harley Quinn wannabe. Just likes the mix matches jumpsuit idea. Like she loves mixing and matching contrasting colors and especially black and white. She mixes in some lavender too. Is always wearing the most dangly earrings too.

Everyday outfit: an above the knee length skirt with a black petty coat underneath, a long sleeveless vest that goes to her mid calf and buttons together under her boobs. Her shirt is a plain white button up with puffy sleeves. For shoes she wears black heeled boots. Her hair is in a curly bun with a tiny off center hat.

Hoodie

Face: Roman nose, not that pale, diamond shaped face, pretty light brown eyes. Pretty strong jawline. Short black hair (dyed recently)

Physic: muscular, 6’2. Hes beefy. Like he’s got boob muscle, ass muscle. HE IS SCARRRY. Think like a smaller Miguel O’Hara almost. He’s less beefy than that, but like yk still beefy.

General Aesthetic: tbh think he went for a goth/alt vibe. He mixes feminine and masculine occasionally. Wears like long skirts sometimes, like a kilt almost?? Wears the fishnet tights as shirts, has multiple Spencer’s belts and necklaces.

Everyday outfit: black fishnet top with a black fitted tshirt over it, black baggy pants. Multiple finger rings. Multiple belts and waist bands.

Sally Williams

Face: circle shaped face, slightly downturned nose, wide green eyes. Small lips, lil bit of a chubby face. She does not eternally bleed from the head. Her hair is long and curly past her shoulders. She’s pretty dark.

Physic: a normal, average weighted 8 yr. 4’8.

General Aesthetic: she likes more vintage, boxy styled dresses from the twentieth century, like 1960s European box dresses inspired by Iggy and kids dresses from the 20s. She actually really likes the vintage youth outfits Bc of Shirley Temple. She LOVES Shirley Temple.

Everyday outfit: a pink and white designed dress that pleats at the bottom. Black Mary janes and white socks. She carries a small white clutch that slings across her torso. Her hair is in a long braid.

Laughing Jack

Face: pale as a mf, triangle shaped face, high cheek bones, cone nose, black hooded shaped eyes. Sharp ass jawline. Small forehead. Hair is shorter and more curly.

Physic: toned as an mf but SCRAWNY, like he’s dangly and flexible. It’s scary and arousing. He has no cake tho, no boobs either. He’s very lightly defined but that is IT. 6’9

General Aesthetic: likes the David Bowie Jareth Labyrinth aesthetic, kind of similar to EJ, but not really. He just also really likes poets shirts and vests. He loves dressing sort of Royal or regal. HE LOVES to wear baggy button ups but he NEVER buttons them up all the way 😏

Everyday outfit: I feel like his main outfit hasn’t changed much, the only thing I see him changing is the wraps around his waist possibly changing to a corset instead for his convenience.

(I’d like to remind that Lazari doesn’t have assignments as she is not a pasta, so her everyday wear is less convenient.)

Lazari

Face: tan, dark brown straight hair (occasionally pink), square shaped face, Roman nose, bow shaped mouth, thicc brown brows.

Physic: depends on her age she changes physically. But she’s probably like average in all ages, just less lean and a little chubbier. Height ranges from 4’11 to 5’8

General Aesthetic: colorful and a little childish. She wears overalls and paints on her pants a lot. Think of her like 2019 in a nutshell. She wears mom jeans and Angel tops and bucket hats. Hates crocs tho. All of her jeans have some 90s cartoon character painted on them.

Everyday outfit: a black Spider-Man tshirt with black overalls cuffed at the bottom. Red converse, fun silly socks, her hair in a long braid.

Jason the Toymaker

Face: diamond shaped face, pale, Roman nose, shoulder length bright red hair. Bright green eyes. Kinda got that Jareth haircut. Sharp ass jawline. Thin nicely shaped eyebrows. The makeup does not come off.

Physic: triangle. Slutty man waist. Not that toned tbh but he has enough. HES GOT SOME NICEE BONEY HANDS. His arms have decent strength and buff ness, but it’s rlly not that obvious. 6’8

General Aesthetic: old clowncore ig. Or like fantasy 1800s boyfriend aesthetic. He wears mostly beige or rained colors tbh and then a dash of black and red. Otherwise he makes up his outfits in abstract shapes and styles.

Everyday outfit: his usual tbh, bro has not changed much.

Zero

Face: square shaped face, wide eyes, no cupids bow shaped lips. Completely black eyes. Completely white hair that goes just past her jaw. Messy hair. Has stitches on the side of her mouth.

Physic: broad shoulders, smaller breasted, not much of a different with her waist. Does have low hips, like a long torso with shorter legs. 5’9

General Aesthetic: crust punk. Wears shit that is torn up and dirty. Lots of DIY and ripped up tights. Low rise black skinny jeans. And cropped shirts that go like just under the boob.

Everyday outfit: cropped black ripped jacket, plain black tshirt and lowrise shitty ripped skinny jeans and black combat boots. Under her ripped jeans is her striped ripped stockings.

Homicidal Liu

Face: slightly upturned nose, still has the stitches on his face, green eyes. Lighter brown neck length hair. Kinda has like a slight wolfcut tbh. A lil tan.

Physic:I feel like he’s a lil buff. Like 5’9-5’10. Not as buff as Jeff. Has some thiccness tho mostly in his shoulders tho so he’s more toned than Jeff.

General Aesthetic: spider noir energy. He loves trench coats and business pants. No matter what he’s always wearing black gloves. He’s always wearing business shoes too.

Everyday outfit: black turtleneck and black trench coat with black pants and black knee boots. He has patches on his coat with holes in it, but they’ve been patched up with his striped scarf, same with his pants. His main fit is patched together with his old scarf.

Nina the Killer

Face: triangle shaped face, olive skin tone, button nose. Curly black hair (often straightened) with purple and pink streaks, thicc upturned lips. Her scar is healed, but still very open like Jeff’s. Her eye situation depends on her state of mind.

Physic: 5’4, pretty skinny and toned. Mostly proportionate. Aight sized boobs and butt, generally just dainty idk. Built like the girl from house of 1000 corpses.

General Aesthetic: risqué Monique Chabot in post war France. She wears short skirts, only cropped tshirts and small dresses. She does not get cold at all omg. A lot of times she’ll wear heals or platforms. Never flats or converse tho anymore.

Everyday outfit: platformed knee high boots, black tights with black thigh highs overtop, a black and pink plaid miniskirt, a black crop top that’s a random band tee. A fluffy cropped black jacket that’s zipped up halfway, for style purposes. Fluffy earmuffs if it gets cold and her hair in an emo high ponytail.

Candypop

Face: oval shaped face, hella pale, Grecian nose, heart shaped lips tbh, almond shaped purple eyes. His hair is still the long pretty blue color as always, always up in a ponytail.

Physic: built exactly like LJ but more meaty, like he’s got more toning on his thighs and legs and stomach. Like he looks a lot healthier than LJ for sure. His outfit definitely makes his muscle pop a lot too 😏 6’6

General Aesthetic: he wants to be Ramona flowers, but he literally can’t Bc he can never find men clothes that is like hers.

Everyday outfit: tbh, his outfit has NOT changed like at all otherwise in color scheme. When his hair was a light green, his outfit became more warmer toned b4 he grew out of that phase and went back to his OG look.

Kate The Chaser

Face: square shaped face, round white eyes, black messy hair just barely past the shoulders, small lips, high cheekbones, Roman nose. No brows, they are drawn on.

Physic: a little thicc, broad shoulders and broad hips. I’d say a wide hourglass figure, but she’s like hella muscular. She has a proportionate amount of ass. 5’6

General Aesthetic: she wants to look like Siouxie, very 80s goth. Allison from the breakfast club energy. She loves wearing long skirts with big sweaters and doing the beehive hair. She loves scarves too and has a hella collection.

Everyday outfit: black wide legged jeans with a billowy maroon sweater and black combat boots. Sometimes she’ll add one of those long black detective jackets, but that’s off missions.

Eyeless Jack

Face: grey skin, Grecian nose, rectangle shaped face, high cheekbones, medium sized lips. Split tongue. Almond shaped black eyes. His hair is dark brown and somewhat long and wavy/curly. Medium thicc arched brows.

Physic: 6’7 and very strong. He’s not ripped like bulging, but he is definitely defined. He’s got ass and thighs, his waist isn’t as small as Dr Smileys, but there’s still a medium difference between his shoulders vs his waist.

General Aesthetic: he wants to be cottage core so bad, like the poets shirt and tunics. He does wear cream colored tunics and billowy pants. Tho sometimes on special occasions he dresses like a basic bitch. He’ll get out the tight business pants and black button up.

Everyday outfit: a black button up, black jeans and navy blue converse. He wears one of those chest strap things tho that carries his scalpel and other weapons. He wears a black leather jacket too <3

Dr Smiley

Face: pale, dark red eyes, tiny pupils. Shoulder length, fluffy black hair. Diamond shaped face, Roman nose, thin lips. Defined jaw. Johnnie Gilbert looking guy. Thin arched brows.

Physic: lean and tall. He’s got broad shoulders and an itty bitty waist fr. He’s bony af tho (except for the thighs,) he’s got NO cake. No junk in the trunk for him. 6’1

General Aesthetic: professional emo/dark academia. He’s ALWAYS wearing black turtleneck and dress pants. He always has a red satchel too.

Everyday outfit: he still wears his black medical mask and white doctors coat, underneath that though he wears a black short sleeved turtleneck, so his arms are out when he’s not wearing his coat 😏 his pants are just basic dress pants tho. Aside from the shirt, he wears basically the same thing he always has.

187 notes · View notes

atinyniki · 5 months

Text

special order.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!han jisung x f!reader

genre: fluff, hardly any angst

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, jisung is referred to as ji, mentions of sex, reader has very bad nightmares, jisung has minor nightmares, jisung gets sick, crazy ex, some one bed scenes, seungmin is jisungs roommate, reader is a waitress

authors note: i think this is actually the cutest thing ive ever made. this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 4623

jisung makes his way to the restaurant, excited to get back into dating after so long. he tugs on his black fitted turtleneck, the necklace making it feel rather uncomfortable.

he takes a deep breath, staring at the sign to make sure it’s the right restaurant. haven. the name makes it sound peaceful.

he enters the restaurant, automatically being greeted by the woman at the counter. “the reservation is under han jisung, ma’am.”

she checks her list, “for two?”

he nods, and she brings him towards the table, placing two menus on it. “your waiter will be with you shortly.”, she bows.

jisung reads through the menu, getting more anxious as time goes on. maybe she’s just running late, right?

he checks his watch again, she should’ve been here over twenty minutes ago. suddenly, he was knocked out of his thoughts by a voice coming from beside him.

“hello sir, my name is y/n and i will be serving you today. what can i get started for you?”. he jerks his head up to look at you and butterflies erupt in his stomach. this had to have been the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

he stares at you, a little wide-eyed, and then finally processed your words. “oh yeah- uh- is the jjampong just one serving?”

“yes sir.”

he smiles at you, “alright then, i’ll have one jjampong on the milder side and the gimmari.”

“alright, will that be all sir? any drinks?”

“a coke is fine”

you nod, smiling and swiftly making your way into the kitchen. his heart finally seems to calm down, the fidgeting of his fingers coming to a stop.

he sits patiently waiting for his food, when the empty seat in front of him starts to haunt him again. he’s just been stood up on a date. of course he feels bad about it but, if he hadn’t, maybe he would have never seen you.

you come back with the food not too long after, smiling at him. “enjoy your meal”

he smiles back, nodding. “thank you ma’am”

the aroma of the food alone is enough to satisfy him, and he grabs his utensils quickly. he takes a sip of the broth, the heat engulfing his tongue immediately.

maybe he shouldn’t have gotten jjampong, he’s bad enough with spicy foods. he takes a sip of his coke, almost spitting it out because it burns so bad. he fans himself with his hand, breathing dramatically.

he turns his head to see you again, this time from a far distance on the other end of the room. you’re staring at him, bursting into a small fit of laughter and covering your mouth when he sees you. you can’t contain yourself.

he manages to smile back, giggling a little on the process. of course it was embarrassing, but he had to admit, it was pretty funny.

you walk over to the table to approach him. “everything okay here?”

he looks at you again, “oh- yeah it’s okay just… a little spicy.”

you laugh again, the sound is music to his ears. “yeah, i could tell. and that’s just the mild version”, you say as you walk off.

he smiles a little to himself again, the moment not seeming as embarrassing as it normally would be. he takes another sip, slowly getting used to the spice.

the meal was amazing, he’d have to come back here sometime. maybe he’d order something else though…

“no i’m serious she was so beautiful”

seungmin rolled his eyes, “yeah yeah sure she was”

jisung frowns a bit, trying his best to focus on the game but he couldn’t. thoughts of you plagued his mind, he felt weird. creepy, almost. what kind of guy simps for a girl that he’ll probably never see again?

lightbulb moment !

“oh my gosh, that’s it!”

seungmin looks at him, confused. “what…?”

“huh? oh- nothing”

they both continue playing the game, jisung losing majority of the time due to his distractions. seungmin finally leaves and jisung dashes towards his bed.

he takes out his phone, quickly calling the number to haven.

“hello?”

“hi! this is-“, he couldn’t even let the lady get through her introduction.

“can i set a reservation on saturday at seven?”

he enters the restaurant again, now in a more casual outfit. he greets the same lady as last time, and she brings him to his seat, a reservation for one.

“thank you ma’am”

he waits, hoping that he’ll see you again, when suddenly, a familiar voice snaps him out of his thoughts. “hi again! what can i get for you today sir?”

he jerks his head towards you, a grin on his face appearing when he sees you again. you don’t question it, just assuming he’s in a good mood.

“could i get the beef bulgogi and the gimmari with a coke?”

you smile at him, “the bulgogi is a good option, it’s not as spicy”, you say with a wink. “it’ll be out shortly sir”

you walk out, disappearing behind the set of doors leading to the kitchen. his heart thumps in his chest at the sight of your wink. he tries to distract himself again, waiting for the meal.

as soon as he sees his plate, his mouth starts watering. he takes a bite of the beef, eyes widening instantly. it had a little kick to it, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

it was so good that he just continued stuffing his face. both sides of his cheeks puffed up due to the food in each side, and he turns his head again.

you’re staring at him from across the room once again, smiling at him. you couldn’t help but find him adorable with those cute cheeks of his. you shook yourself of those thoughts, getting back to serving.

a light pink blush taints his cheeks, and he slows down a little bit, embarrassed that you saw him like that. it’s not like he could resist though, the food at haven is amazing.

he’ll try to make a reservation every week from now on.

weeks pass by of trying new menus and having small conversations with you, jisung becoming a quick regular at haven just to see your face.

his favorite was the japchae and he found himself eating it most saturday’s he was at haven.

he decides to be bold this time around, feeling more confident in himself after beating seungmin four times in a row.

“hey jisung! what can i get for you today?”

“can i get the galbitang with a coke and your number please?

“of course! will that be a- wait, what?”

he looks at you, nodding expectedly and waiting for an answer. you quickly nod and rush to the kitchen, putting in the order for him. your heart beats erratically in your chest, why does he want your number of all people?

you come back with his food, giving him a smile and a folded slip of paper. you leave not to long after, continuing your job. jisung quickly unfolds the paper, face lighting up when he sees the ten digit number.

he eats happily that day, smiling every time he sees you. you can’t help but smile back.

jisung <3: come over already! he’s dying to meet you

y/n: shut up, i’m getting ready. you can’t just rush beauty like mine

jisung rolls his eyes at your snarkiness, but he couldn’t deny it. you truly are beautiful, but he didn’t really think you needed to do much to look pretty.

some twenty minutes later, jisung hears a knock at his door, jumping up and dashing towards it. he flings open the door to see you standing there. his jaw hangs low.

his eyes trace your body up and down, you’re in a cute little skirt paired with a beige sweater. hes never seen you in such attire, only ever a black button up.

you shy away a little bit from his gaze, a nervous smile appearing on your face. maybe it was a bit much for just a game night.

“hey…”

he was suddenly snapped out of his thoughts. “oh- what? sorry- come in”, he chuckled nervously.

you walk inside, taking in your surroundings. there’s a boy sitting on the couch looking at you, you assume it’s seungmin.

“hello! it’s so great to finally meet you”, you say.

“it’s nice to meet you too y/n, ji has told me a lot about you”, he smiles.

jisung rolls his eyes, leading you to the couch where all the gameplay happens. the three of you sit on the same couch, gaming for hours on end. you were a lot better than jisung thought you were.

he ended up last in every match… just like always.

you and seungmin both found fun in laughing at him, watching as a pout made its way into his face. you smiled at how adorable he looked, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss the pout away.

it’s late at night now, and you’re about to walk yourself home, when seungmin stops you. “it’s pretty late to walk outside all alone is it not? you can stay the night if you’d like, we don’t mind.”

you turn around, smiling, “thank you for the consideration, but these clothes aren’t very… comfortable”

“that’s no problem! i’m sure ji can lend you some”, he says with a smile.

you watch as jisungs face goes red, and you can’t help but accept the offer. “that’s fine with me then, thank you guys”, you smile sweetly.

seungmin walks into his room, winking at jisung on the way. jisung leads you into his room, picking out a comfortable t-shirt for you to wear as well as a pair of shorts.

you quickly change, wanting to get to bed as soon as possible. you’re exhausted from all the yelling and gaming that took place tonight. you walk out of the bathroom, jisung even more wide eyed than when he saw you at the door. his heart fluttered at the sight of you looking so cute in his clothes, but he decided not to speak on it.

he grabs the blanket from the chair, walking out the room. “wait! where are you going?”

jisung turns around to face you. “what do you mean? i’m sleeping on the couch?”

“what!? no! i’m sure there’s enough space for the both of us”

he smiles at you, a little skeptical about sleeping in the same bed as you. “are you sure?”

you nod, and he swiftly slips into bed. you cover yourself with the blanket, the warmth providing a sense of comfort, and you allow yourself to fall asleep.

you wake up to jisung spooning you from behind, to be quite honest, you were very confused about how you got there, but you didn’t really… mind it. it actually felt kind of nice.

you held his hands that wrapped around your waist, the warmth spreading through your entire body. “you up y/n?”

you jolt when you hear his voice. “holy shit- sorry i didn’t know you were up yet”

he laughed a bit, stroking your hands soothingly, “sorry, i didn’t mean to startle you.”

you giggle, finally getting out of bed. the two of you get ready, and you pack up your clothes before you leave.

all of a sudden, you hear a knock at the door. “ji! someone’s here”

he walks over to the door, opening it and his heart sinks immediately. “hi jiiii”, she says in a sweet tone. it’s his ex, his most toxic one at that.

his tone completely changes, even scaring you a bit. “what the fuck do you want.”

she lets herself inside, eyes meeting yours. anger courses through her veins at the sight of another girl in jisung’s clothing. “who the fuck are you?”

you couldn’t bring yourself to answer, too confused about the situation going on. she begins approaching you, fists clenched at her sides. “why the hell are you wearing his clothes?”

before anything can happen, jisung stands in front of you. it doesn’t stop her from talking though. “he’s mine, not yours.”

“i am not yours. you cheated on me. you made a fucking choice. now get the fuck out before i call the cops on you.”

all of a sudden, a loud noice makes you shut your eyes quickly. did this bitch just slap him?

he slowly walks towards her, backing her up towards the door. “don’t fucking come back”

he shuts the door, letting out a long breath. “oh my gosh i’m so sorry… are you okay?”

you smile at him, “yeah i’m fine, no worries.”, you bring a hand up to his cheek, “are you okay?”

jisung smiles at the contact and the softness in your voice, butterflies erupting everywhere again. he nods, trying to fight off the blush that creeps up on him.

“can i walk you home? i uh- i don’t want her to like… hurt you or anything.”

you take his hand in yours, walking across the sidewalk on the way to your house and talking about some more hangout plans for the future. everything felt so natural with him.

this had to be more than just a silly crush, right?

“ji?”

“are you up?”

“mhm… just drowsy”

“i’m sorry, you can go back to sleep. goodnight”

you let out a sigh, finally processing his words in your sleep ridden state. “what’s wrong ji?”

the other end of the line stays silent for a moment. “i had a nightmare…”

you honestly find it cute that he called you of all people for comfort. “do you wanna talk about it?”

“mmm no… i just need a distraction.”

you quickly get out of bed, continuing to talk to jisung while you get ready. “y/n, are you okay? you sound a little out of breath”

“what? yeah i’m fine”, you say as you approach his house. “open the door, im here”

“what?! you came over?”, he asked incredulously, “but i’m not even ready?”

the call disconnects, and you hear footsteps approaching the door. jisung opens it for you, his hair still messy from laying down and his bloodshot eyes stare right at you.

“you wanna go for a walk?”, you smile.

he thinks about the offer for a moment. there was no way he could get back to sleep anytime soon, so why not? “sure”

you take his hand in yours, dragging him down the steps and onto the sidewalk. he runs after you, chasing you all the way to the playground until you trip over a rock and fall onto the concrete with a thud.

he quickens his pace to get to you faster and help you up, “are you okay?!”

his breathing quickens, he feels guilty for letting this happen to you. he holds you close to him, faces only inches apart as he grabs onto your arm.

you’re flustered by the proximity between you two, but he doesn’t seem to notice yet. he’s far too concerned to really process it anyways. “i-i’m okay, i just scraped my elbow is all…”

he pulls away from you, gently picking up your arm and turning it to see what damage has been done. “i’m sorry…”

you turn his head back towards you, “it’s okay, i promise. it doesn’t even hurt that bad.”, you giggle. he manages to smile back at you somehow, your laugh putting him at ease.

you quickly open your backpack, taking out the bandage and gauze you keep in there, along with the alcohol. before you can do anything, jisung picks up the alcohol.

“i’ll do it.”

he begins to clean your wound, apologizing every time you wince due to the stinging. he places the gauze on it, wrapping the bandage around tightly. “you’re all set”, he smiles softly at you.

you smile back, and your eyes catch onto the swing set. with no warning, you jump up and head to the swings. “last one to the swings is a rotten egg!”

he laughs at your playfulness, “that isn’t fair! you left me to clean all this up!”

he makes it to the swings almost a minute later after packing up everything. you laugh at him for being so slow. “hey, it wasn’t even my fault!”

“fine, how can i make it up to you?”

he stands beside the swing you’re on, “push me.”

you laugh, “push you? okay!”

you quickly get off the swing, pushing him onto the mulch with both your hands. he looks up at you incredulously, a playful scoff leaving his lips. “i meant on the swings, dumbass”

“i know”, you reply with a smug smile while helping him up. he gets on the swing, waiting expectedly for you to push him. he shivers at the feeling of the cold air hitting him as he went higher and higher.

small squeals left his lips, giggling every so often. you cant get over how cute he sounds. your heart swells every time you hear a little noise escape.

“okay, you don’t have to push me anymore you know.”

“i know, but it’s fun.”

he can see the sun light peaking over, the dark blue sky filled with small clouds.

after a little while, he drags his feet across the mulch, coming to a full stop on the swings. “why’d you stop ji?”

“it’s your turn now!”

over the past month, it’s become more of a habit. everytime one of you needs a distraction, the other figures out something to do. it’s been a while since you’ve had a nightmare, waking up to your bed covered in sweat and tears felt uncomfortable.

you did the only thing you could, you called jisung. “jisung…?”

your voice quivered as you spoke, your hands struggling to hold your phone still. “hm?”

“ji i need help. i had- i had a nightmare”

“what? oh gosh- i’m on my way.”

you can hear how fast he runs towards your house, loud footsteps and breathing from the other end of the phone. even through all the struggle, he tries his best to talk you through it.

the rain pours on him, but he couldn’t care less in that moment. he arrives in just under ten minutes, knocking frantically on your door. you disconnect the line, opening the door to see him completely drenched head to toe.

before you can even say a word, he wraps you into a hug, droplets of water dripping onto you. you don’t seem to really process the dampness of your clothes anymore, holding onto jisung tightly.

“are- are you okay?”, he asks softly, not to startle you. you pull away a little to look at him and nod, slowly beginning to process his state.

“ji, are you crying?”

he clutches onto your shirt, “i’m sorry… was just really worried”

you smile at him, wrapping your arms around him again. even with how the rain water dripped down your back, there was an odd warmth filling your body.

he finally pried himself off of you, smiling a little awkwardly. “sorry… let’s go now?”

you raise an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“i have to take you out somewhere now, don’t i?”

“but it’s… raining?”

he giggles a little bit, “since when have you ever cared about that?”

he grabs you lightly by the arm, dragging you out into the rain. the two of you talked a little louder over the rain this time, arms interlinked.

the rain seemed to calm down about an hour later, leaving both of you shivering and cold in the wind. you both head back not too long after, wanting to get a change of clothes.

you figured you’d give jisung his shirt and shorts he gave you the night you slept over. you arrive at your house, unlocking the door and walking in.

you wonder why jisung doesn’t follow, and you turn around. “aren’t you coming in?”

he looks up at you again, “what? i thought you wanted me to go home?”

you shake your head, leading him into your home and locking the door behind you. you quickly grab his clothes and hand them to him, “sorry, i never gave them back”

he smiles, “that’s okay”.

the both of you change, drying your hair and finally settling on watching a movie. the sleep finally catches up to you while you’re on the couch, the warmth emitting from jisung immediately putting you to sleep.

light snores fill the room, and jisung turns off the tv, carrying you to the room lightly as to not wake you up. he sets you down on the bed, careful not to wake you up. it doesn’t quite work though.

“ji?”

he turns around to look at you again. “hm?”

“can you spend the night? just… just in case?”

he smiles at you, the hallway light illuminating his face. “of course”

he slips into bed next to you, incredibly quiet as to not annoy you in your sleepy state. “you can breathe y’know, it’s not the first time we’ve done this”

he laughs, “sorry, i didn’t wanna wake you”

you grab his hand from under the sheets, bringing it up to the pillows. “goodnight ji”

his face burns red at the sudden touch. your voice echos in his ears for several moments after. “night, y/n”

you wake up to a sleeping jisung, his arms wrapped around you and a light pout on his face. you smile at him, bringing your hand up to his forehead to stroke the hair out of his face.

you immediately stop when you feel the heat on your fingertips. “ji? ji wake up.”

his eyes slowly flutter open. “mm?”

his eyes go wide at the sound of his voice, and he tries to clear his throat, coughing into his fist in the process. “ji, i think you’re sick.”

he frowns a little, finally taking in the pain of his throat. you quickly rush out of bed to help him. you take his hand and lead him to the bathroom, unboxing the extra toothbrush you have and handing it to him.

you both get ready for the day, jisung doesn’t say much due to the pain, but you don’t seem to mind. you lead him to the kitchen, making him a hot cup of ginger tea to soothe his throat.

he watches intently as you make the tea, and you hand it to him some minutes later. “no sugar?”

you smile, “i use honey. try it.”

he takes a sip tentatively, careful not to burn himself, and the hot liquid instantly alleviates the pain in his throat. he hums in approval, finishing it pretty quickly.

you check the time, it’s almost two in the afternoon, so you decide to call off breakfast and make lunch instead.

”ji, can i make some jjampong?”, you see the skeptical look on his face. “on the milder side”, you giggle.

he smiles, nodding slightly. “thanks”

you grab the ingredients from the freezer, but you realize you’re missing something. “ji, do you have your phone on you? i need to look something up and i left mine in the other room”

he hands you his phone, unlocking it for you, and you click onto his browser. you look up the ingredients, making sure you have all the essentials, when a text from seungmin pops up.

rabid dog: omg jisung

rabid dog: did you finally sleep with y/n

rabid dog: >:)

oh god.

you swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand and check over the list. it doesn’t seem like you’re missing anything, so you hand jisung the phone and get back to work.

you start making the jjampong, still thinking about the text. why did he emphasize “finally”? does jisung like you or something? you decide to ignore it and make the jjampong instead.

you don’t put too much chili paste into it, making sure it’s altered to jisung’s liking. some forty minutes later, you grab two bowls, pouring the soup into each.

“enjoy”, you say with a smile. jisung tentatively takes a sip, holding onto the glass of water beside him just in case. his eyes went wide, immediately talking another sip.

you giggle, “good?”

all he can do is nod, stuffing his face with the food. you both finish not too long after, and you lead him to your bed again. “you need rest ji”

he nods, making his way towards the bed. “hold on, let me text seungmin so he knows im over at yours”

you nod, and you sit down on the bed next to him while you wait. you watch as his face goes red reading the text, and you can’t help but smile.

he slips into bed not too long after, and you instantly wrap your arms around him to provide more warmth. he hums in satisfaction, nuzzling closer to you. “i love you…”

“i love you too”, you confess, without missing a beat. he looks up at you, wide eyed, “i- what?”

“i love you, jisung.”, you say with a bright smile.

he smiles back, hugging you again. “i’m sorry… it just felt like the right thing to say in that moment.”

you stroke his hand with your thumb, “it’s okay, i didn’t realize i was saying it until i saw you look back up at me”, you giggle.

you pull away from him for a moment, grabbing his chin with your fingers. “can i?”

he takes a moment to process what’s happening, giggling and then finally saying, “you’ll get sick.”

“i don’t care. please?”

he leans in tentatively, not wanting to rush you, but you meet him halfway. the kiss is soft, full of love and affection.

your hands find home in his hair, and his hands dig deeper into your waist. your lips disconnect not too long after, the kiss leaving you breathless.

“go to sleep now yeah? i’ll be here when you wake up”

he pulls you lower so you’re laying down in the bed, and he buries his face in your neck. “thanks pretty…”

you giggle at the pet name, “we’ll talk when you’re up, yeah?”

“mhm”

“can i have a table for two ma’am?”

“of course jisung! enjoy your meal”

he makes his way to the table, a little later than usual. his face lights up as soon as he sees you, the same bright smile on your face once you see him again.

“hey baby, what can i get for you today?”

he smiles at the pet name, “you”

your eyes widen, a pink blush covering your cheeks. “what?”

“your shift ends in about ten minutes right?”

you nod.

“then once you’re done, sit down with me. please?”

you smile, walking over to him and giving him a little peck. “fine, but you’re paying”

he pulls you in to give you a proper kiss, “fine by me”, he says with a wink.

you quickly finish your shift, getting ready for your little date. you sit down with him, grinning ear to ear. “hi…”

he looks at you with adoration in his eyes, “hi pretty”

the waiter arrives at your table, “hi y/n, hey jisung, what can i get for you both today?”

“could we get two of the jjampong and the gimmari? oh! and two cokes please.”

“wai-“

“alright we’ll get that started for you, have fun!”

jisung turns towards you again, a quizzical look on his face.

“well, if you’re going to be spending the rest of your life with me like you told seungmin, you better get used to having spicy food everyday.”

he smiles a little at your logic, “anything for you”

you take his hand in yours above the table.

“i know”

#skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #atinyniki #stray kids angst #skz fanfic #han jisung #jisung x y/n #han x y/n #han jisung angst #han jisung fluff #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids han #han jisung stray kids

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minticecodes · 2 months

Text

A (late) piece for dmcweek2024 day 4! I was buzzing to put forward something for the week. Prompt was alt universe.

AU where Eva survived the fire and had to figure out a way forward, believing the twins dead. She becomes an RPG shopkeeper selling wares ranging from antique books to magical goods (Devil May Scry). She's also out for Mundus' blood.

Image descriptions are the same as in alt.

[ID: 7 Digital illustrations and sketches. 1: Coloured illustration of a bookshop at sunset. Eva, a pale blonde middle aged woman mans the bright patterned counter. She wears a turtleneck and red shawl, has shoulder length hair, and diagonal facial burn scar and scarring on her left hand. Light rays illuminate her gently smiling face. Besides packed books, on the shelves are potion bottles, statuettes, succulents, and a displayed katana. Roses and plants decorate the shop. On the counter are a thick hardback, bookscanner, and crystal ball. Cards are displayed inside the counter. On the wall hangs a price sign, featuring doodled vital stars (large star drawn with sunglasses), holy water and fortunes. Beneath it is a rose wreathed divinity statue display, with 2 red orb offerings in a dish. 2: Eva from behind, sitting hunched alone at a table where a birthday cake sits untouched. It's a two flavour cake. By her clenched hand are crumpled tissues. Caption: 'Vergil...Dante...happy birthday...' 3: Eva bracing the Devil Sword Sparda across her shoulders, aimed at the ground. She wears a bell sleeved, ruffled funeral/wedding dress with a slit for leg movement. A veil trails behind her like a ribbon. Close ups of her show the headpiece design; a pacifier made of a long bird skill, feather, rose, and four skeletal 'legs'. 4 & 5: Trish taking on teen Dante's image: a tan teen in black, with chin length white hair, a halter neck tank top, leather pants, kneelength boots and black polish. Her leather jacket collar resembles lightning bolts. She leans against an invisible wall, one leg bent to brace her foot against it. She looks askance with arched brows, lifting shades from her face. The 2nd image is a 3/4 profile with shades perched on her forehead and popped collar. 6: Helmetless portraits of Dante and Vergil in armour, expressionless. Dante's hair is shoulder length and falls across his face. 7: Full body of 2 somewhat lanky demonic knights. One (Nelo Angelo) in black and blue with droopy horns rests his palms atop his blue broadsword's pommel, the sword upright against the ground. He stands straight, staring ahead. The other in white and red and curled horns has a palm clapped on Nelo Angelo's shoulder, other hand at his hips. Somehow the eyes on his helmet express playfulness. At his back is the hilt to a flail, the spiked ball resting on the ground by his armoured heels. They're labelled '~16' . End ID.]

Read more for some wordy backstory and sketches. TW for mentions of torture, abuse and solitary confinement surrounding the twins.

I had...so many more ideas that I'm leaving out to keep this short. It's fun to think how she'd mesh with the cast.

Like! her and Lady. Mother that lost her kid and kid that lost her mother. It writes itself how much unwitting projection can go wrong. And pretty much everything about her, the twins, and Trish :)

In terms of backstory:

After the fire she's alone. Her birth family disowned her long ago. She thinks about revamping the mansion but the idea of staying in that empty space with only memories for company is too much. So she eventually opens a small store.

Starts off paranoid and distant. Still is distant but gets entangled with the local community overtime. Greets people by name and they'll chat about how life has been going. This includes demon hunters and demons and supernatural beings living peacefully; her shop becomes a small safe haven to exchange information to stay safe.

Gets very good at forging protective charms. Haunted by the memory of the enchanted closet, smashed in and empty.

A regular is a schoolgirl who originally came to pick up reserved books for her father but stuck around because hey, this place is quiet and interesting, and the owner serves stellar teacakes. Great place to study. To Mary, Eva's kind, though odd, secretive and a little lonely.

I got inspired by Eva's association with the bangle/bracelet of time and the amulets for her fighting style. It's based around item crafting, like an RPG character slapping on every stat boosting item.

She stitches together different outfits for different needs Cardcaptor style. They're all exceedingly dramatic. It's not clear here but I wanted a bird motif to eventually come through. Phoenix motif, really.

[ID: Rough sketches: A magician esque outfit with vest, feathered tophat and cape. A longcoat with long skirt and long scarf at her back like a cape. The cape is tagged with 'spells stitched into fabric'. Close ups on the coat lapel show two pins (strawberry and wing), labelled 'charm lapel pins.' Close up of the shoes show sharp heals and ankle bracelets. Eva leaping in a black bodysuit and leotard, with feathery collar, quill behind her ear, and ballet shoes with a claw at the heel. Eva making a triangular 2 hand sign in a hooded cloak and longskirt. Around her shoulders are claws. At her hips is an hourglass. Above her heeded head is a clocklike halo. Beside her is a sketch of a woman with a lionhead mask. A funeral and wedding dress inspired outfit. Eva crouches, wielding the Devil Sword Sparda in scythe form. Her face is covered by a tattered veil. She wears a knee length ruffled dress, black gloves, and a long, ruffled cape. Close up of her left hand shows a ring and finger claws Rough comic. Chibi lady talks to chibi Eva. Lady holds up a black body suit with billowing sleeves and a cleavage window. Lady: "Eva what is this" Eva (smiling cheerfully): "Oh - that old thing!" Eva: "My old hunting outfit. Gosh I'd almost forgotten about it. Not the most comfortable thing - so skin tight..." However Lady fixates on 'my old hunting outfit'. The words go in one ear and come out as a younger Eva in a catsuit, pointing a gun with a serious expression, wind blowing through her hair. Lady stares into the distance, bewildered, and slightly blushing. End ID]

Meanwhile the twins are having a terrible time but they have each other, even if they don't remember they're brothers. I think it'd be sweet if they have a bond anyway. Everyone else thinks they're rivals at best.

(Nelo is Mundus' favourite to toy with as the proud, eldest son. But when he gets rough, Bianco butts in and acts up for Mundus' attention. This gets him sent to solitary confinement; Mundus figured out Bianco hates small spaces and designed an iron maiden for him. Others think Bianco is a brute who acts out for a fight. But that's ok. It means Bianco can keep buying Nelo time.) (When lucid, Nelo despises his own weakness when this happens.)

[ID: 2 Images. Nelo and Bianco Angelo in fisticuffs in a cartoony dustcloud, glaring at each other as they fight. They're captioned 'Mundus' most competent generals'. Additional text: 'silent, obedient, crushing force when apart. Perfect soldiers. ... until they're put together. Complement each other's battle style OR clash terribly. Nelo Angelo staring off, arms crossed and furrowed eyes somehow expressing being completely fed up. Behind him, Bianco and Griffin talk at each other. Griffin's glaring. Bianco has a hand up to gesture. End ID]

#dmc #dmcweek2024 #devil may cry #dmc eva #eva sparda #dante sparda #dmc dante #vergil #nelo angelo #dmc vergil

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flowerandblood · 11 months

Text

The Crime and Punishment (2)

[modern! lawyer • Aemond x fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, age gap, smut, angst, domination kink, sexual tension]

[description: Aemond becomes a co-owner of one of the largest law firms in the area. He is invited to cooperate by one of the best lawyers he knows. While working in the evenings on further matters at his house, he meets his daughter, much younger than him, whose behavior gives him sleepless nights. Anon Request: Age gap, domination, lots of sexual tension and guilt.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next parts: Masterlist

______

A few days had passed since he touched her for the first time. They both tried to pretend that nothing had happened. They did not look at each other and did not speak to each other. There was tension between them as they were left alone in the room. It felt like some kind of competition.

Her father often asked her for help in the law firm. Mostly when it comes to documentation. Of course, they had everything electronically stored, but they also had to have copies of the files in separate folders and binders in case something happened.

Aemond hated messy paperwork. She'd seen him scolding his assistant many times for not being able to arrange them properly and for putting them all over the place.

As far as she knew, the girl also studied law and did an apprenticeship with him. But she didn't seem to be able to handle the pressure and demands he placed on her.

"Leave it. Go home now. I'll take care of it." She said to her once, putting her backpack on a chair.

It was hot despite the air conditioning. For this reason she decided to wear a dress with small flowers, pretty and girly, with a triangle neckline. The girl looked at her gratefully.

"Thank you. I owe you lunch." She sputtered tiredly, putting down the pages she had been sorting. She packed her things from her desk and left.

She went to work, standing at the table where all the documentation from the previous month was spread out. From a drawer she took a piece of divider and a marker.

She knew what he liked.

Each client was to have their own binder. Inside, each case was to be separated by a red sheet with its number, date and table of contents - so you could see where one began and the other ended.

They had to be accurately described. The case was to be divided into parts: the evidences, the opinions of the experts, their discussions recorded by ear, the testimonies of the witnesses, the testimony of the client himself, the evidences of the prosecutor's office.

This order had to be followed, no other. Each part should be arranged logically, fragments of the statements of the same witnesses were to be arranged one after the other, so as not to look for them further. If there were any small notes or footnotes among the papers, they had to be stapled to the relevant document they concerned with a stapler.

She arranged everything with care. She put the sheets of paper into piles, and then put everything as one part into a binder. She flinched when she heard his voice behind her.

"What are you doing?" He asked coldly, standing in the doorway. She wondered how long he had been watching her silently.

She went back to her work, pretending she wasn't impressed by the sight of him in a tight, thin black turtleneck hugging his chest. She wondered how it was possible that he wasn't too hot inside.

"I'm putting together your documentation." She said softly as she stapled the two sheets together.

"Where is Hannah?" He asked indifferently, walking over to the table where she stood, roughly leafing through one of the binders that she had just set aside.

"I sent her home because she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Should I call her?" She asked as she tucked pieces of paper into a plastic sleeve. A momentary silence answered her.

"No." He said finally, without commenting further, sitting down at his desk. She knew it was a sign that she was doing her job well and he couldn't find anything to complain about.

She decided that she would work standing up since she led such a sedentary lifestyle. She allowed him to look at her long, shapely legs without restriction. She wondered if he was just thinking about how soft her skin felt when he touched her.

She heard him start typing on his laptop. He was probably replying to a client. She glanced at her watch - it was seven o'clock in the evening. She wondered when he rested.

She had heard that he had dumped his long-time partner, Alys, precisely because she wanted him to give up his career and start a family with her. In six years of relationship he hadn't even proposed to her, and her biological clock was ticking.

Turns out they have other priorities in life.

She guessed he wasn't a sexual ascetic, but she knew he hadn't had a long-term relationship with anyone since then. She wasn't going to be his adventure. One of the smiling journalists or clerks that he could fuck once in the back room. She wanted him to die of despair because of her.

A knock on the open door snapped her out of her thoughts. Daemon, a close friend of her father's for many years, stood there. He was a well-known forensic pathologist, helping them with their cases and determining the possible course of events. He often came to visit them and helped her father when her mother left them and he struggled with depression, unable to get out of bed.

"Would you like a quick snack before the restaurant downstairs closes?" He asked lightly, smiling out of the corner of his mouth.

She thought that he always looked very good. His slicked-back hair, gallant smile, unbuttoned jacket, casually buttoned shirt. He was a very handsome man, and she thought it was great that he'd asked her that in front of Aemond. She smiled broadly.

"Of course." She said lightly and glanced at Aemond who was glaring at her from his laptop. "Do you mind? I promise I'll finish it today. I have the keys to the office." She said calmly.

He looked away, starting typing again on his laptop. His lips were pressed into a thin line.

"No."

***

She and Daemon sat at one of the tables. It was practically empty around them because all the offices, except theirs, were already closed. Daemon ordered a drink, she took tea and a piece of chocolate cake. He stared at her for a moment in concentration.

"How are you?" He asked finally, taking a sip of his drink. She looked at him from under her long lashes and smiled slightly.

"All right." She answered briefly, taking a piece of cake on a small fork into her mouth. Daemon looked at her expectantly.

"You still don't speak to her?" He asked finally. She looked at him with furrowed brows.

"No, Dad." She said maliciously, giving him a warning look. He laughed at her words and shook his head.

"You're going to have to do it eventually." He grunted as he took a sip from his glass. She sighed heavily, looking away.

"My dad told you to talk to me?" She asked tired. She hated bringing it up again. It was a closed chapter for her. Daemon stared at her silently.

"He worries about you." He finally said, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

There was something rakish and youthful about him, a certain arrogance and energy that always impressed her. She couldn't be mad at him. She smiled pityingly.

"I know. But I don't think I have to explain anything. Not even to you." She said, as she popped a piece of cake into her mouth and ate deliberately, keeping her eyes on him. He looked at her thoughtfully. He didn't speak for a moment.

"You know that if you need to talk, you can always count on me." He said finally. She smiled warmly at him.

"I know."

***

After a few minutes they got up and said goodbye. He was already on his way home and she was climbing the stairs up to their office. On the way she met her father, who was running downstairs in a hurry.

"There's a new witness in the case. I need to question him. Can you get yourself an Uber home?" He asked, grabbing her by the shoulders. She shivered with excitement at the thought of being alone with Aemond in the office.

"Yes, don't worry." She said lightly. He nodded and ran downstairs.

She walked slowly down the corridor thinking hard about what she should do. She decided that the best option was to let him look at her. She knew that just being alone with each other would make the tension unbearable for them. She decided that there was no reason to exaggerate and to show him anything more than she herself wanted.

She entered the code and heard a confirmation beep that the password was correct. She went inside and walked through the glass walls to the only room with a light on.

She saw with surprise that he got hot after all, and he was left in just a tight black T-shirt, a nice little watch with a black strap on his wrist. He was leaning over the papers on the table she had been dealing with.

He gave her a quick glance, eyeing her up and down, as if to see if she really had eaten something or if she was doing something else with Daemon. Deciding to pretend not to see it, she stood next to him, getting to work without saying a word.

He sorted the sheets and documents as he saw fit, handing them to her and telling her the client's name and case number. She wrote it down, working with complete concentration, her small hands slipping the pages into plastic sleeves and placing them in the correct order into binders.

She smelled the intense scent of his cologne water and felt with amusement that her nipples hardened slightly, her insides clenched, hot and moist. She thought it was ridiculous how much he affected her.

She glanced thoughtfully at his large hands, lines of veins showing through their skin. He had slender fingers. She remembered how nice their touch felt on her skin, and a pleasant shiver ran through her. She turned her head as she went back to work. She closed several ready-made binders and walked over to the regiment, clearing space and putting them in their proper place.

She heard him move and stand behind her. Her movements slowed in tension, wondering what he would do. She felt him place one of the files on the shelf above her head, placing it on top of the others. She could feel his breath and the warmth of his body. Her heart was pounding like crazy.

Slowly she slid the last of the binders into place, her hand trembling slightly. She felt that he hadn't moved away, his hand still searching for something just above her. She knew he was pretending.

She placed her hands on the shelf in front of her, not moving. She felt that he wanted her to turn to face him, to show with her eyes how much she wanted him. She decided she wouldn't give him the satisfaction and waited for him to pull away.

A strong, aggressive shudder went through her, as she felt his fingertips brushing against the side of her thigh. He guided them as he had done then, up and down, lifting her dress slightly, so that once in a while he could see the fabric of her panties. She swallowed hard, feeling her own wetness between her thighs.

Her fingers tightened on the shelf in front of her and she leaned forward slightly, her buttocks landing on his pants right behind her. They both sucked in a sharp breath as her butt pressed against the bulge hidden under his fly. His hand tightened around her buttock as she began to rub innocently up and down against him, feeling the pleasure of him throbbing under her.

"Stop." He whispered softly. She wondered if he was trying to convince himself or her.

"Just do it." She said softly, squeezing her eyes shut. She felt him freeze, his breath caught in his throat.

They were panting softly, rubbing against each other slowly and intensely, she could feel him completely hard now. His thumb pushed the material of her panties aside, exposing her wet, fleshy structure to him, all hot and throbbing. He ran his thumb over her entry, lapping it in her fluids, his breath quivering slightly.

"Are you sure?" He asked quietly, unsure of himself. She had never heard him talk to anyone like that before. It turned her on even more. All she wanted was for him to fuck her.

"Yes." She whispered softly, her lips quivering slightly, her face pressing against the bookcase in front of her.

She began to breathe faster when she heard the sudden sound of the belt from his pants being unfastened and his fly being unzipped. She felt him pull her panties down to her knees.

She couldn't suppress a soft moan of delight as she felt his huge, throbbing manhood begin to rub against her, sticky with her wetness. He held her buttocks, parting her in front of him, his cock literally slithering over her dripping entrance.

"Are you so wet for Daemon too?" He asked low and mean, his voice quivering slightly, his fingers tightening on her skin. She smiled to herself, breathing deeply through her mouth, unable to bear the tension between her thighs. His jealousy was like a honey to her ears.

"Are you trying to accuse me of something, Your Honor?" She asked lightly, wetting her lips with her saliva, her fingers tightening on the shelf in front of her.

She gasped as she felt him grab her by the throat and pull her higher, until his mouth was at her ear. She was surprised that she liked it. He wasn't violent, but he was determined. He didn't want to give her control.

"Yes. I think you like an older man to fuck you well." He hissed softly into her ear, her lips parting slightly.

"So what are you waiting for?" She asked quietly. Silence answered her, his body froze for a moment.

She moaned loudly, suddenly feeling him deep inside her. Her lips parted in shock as he filled her so much that he barely fit. He must have been just as surprised, because a helpless, short moan escaped his lips. She wondered if she would be able to get more of such wonderful sounds out of him.

His cock began to move inside her, and they both gasped loudly, unable to contain themselves or pretend they weren't enjoying it. He slid in and out of her in an intense, hard rhythm, his throbbing cock rubbing against the soft, moist, sensitive skin inside her.

His balls hit her ass with a wet slap each time he thrust into her again. She couldn't help but moan loudly every time he rubbed against the spot inside her that her fingers always sought when she touched herself. Hearing this, he began to fuck her there on purpose, making her pant in pleasure.

"So close already?" He asked ironically, speeding up, his thighs wet with her juices hitting her with a loud, sticky slap, her fleshy, hot walls pressing desperately around him.

They both breathed heavily, feeling they wouldn't last long. She swallowed hard in humiliation at hearing his words. She couldn't help it, no one had ever fucked her so wonderfully before. Her nipples were painfully hard, her insides swollen and bloodshot with excitement.

"Yes." She mumbled softly, her hips responding greedily to his every thrust as he pumped his cock deep into her, pushing her tight walls to breaking point.

"Do you take pills?" He whispered quickly, panting harder and harder, accelerating, as they both fucked greedily, the shameless, wet sound of their bodies hitting each other reverberating across the room.

"Yes, please, come inside me, please, please, please!" She moaned loudly and sobbed as she felt his fingers on her clit, massaging it in intense, circular motions. Her lips parted in a soundless moan, her body arched in pleasure as she felt a powerful, wonderful orgasm surge through her body, knocking her unconscious for a moment.

She heard him groan loudly as he felt her walls pressing down on him greedily. He couldn't take it any longer, he thrusted in her one last time and just came inside her, semen flowing out of him in waves.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He was panting low, furious with himself, and at the same time delighted with the pleasure that he was experiencing right now. His nose and forehead brushed her hair, inhaling her scent. They both moved for a moment, unable to stop. Silence fell between them, broken only by their heavy, labored breathing.

"I'm sorry." He finally whispered, his voice trembling slightly as if he was terrified of what he had just done. She slid her hand off the shelf and placed it on his hand, still holding her hip. She stroked him gently and reassuringly, his face still buried in her hair.

"Don't be. Let's get back to work."

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @avgdusterfan @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @random-ocity @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost

Others: @fan-goddess @itsabby15 @fangirlninja67 @the-common-cowgirl

If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

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seireitonin · 6 months

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What alternative subcultures the Creepypastas would be in!!(pt 1)

This was an ask I accidentally deleted! Oops! I also listen to all the music I put in here! So it’s also a small glimpse into what I listen to! Also as some of you know I’m in the scemo and goth subcultures! But I know a lot about alternative cultures period so this was fun to make!

LJ: VICTORIAN GOTH 100%!! / Victorian Circus Core

I mean he’s literally from that era

The feathered shaw, the black and white color scheme, the black lipstick and guy liner with the pale white face!!

Literally a goth king. That’s an outfit I would definitely see at a goth club!(I’ve been to many)

Another part of goth culture is liking horror/ monsters. Since LJ is a monster he’d fit right in!

He’d be accepted by most goths despite his looks bc goths have morbid dark fashion senses themselves!

So if they saw his swirly cone nose and sharp teeth they’d be like: omg! I love your look!

He’d definitely listen to classical music and other goth music Specifically Switchblade symphony and Cocteau Twins

He definitely listens to old PATD

I can see him wearing other Victorian inspired clothes too!

Like dis:

Jeff: Metalhead/ with 90s emo(for nostalgia.)

I mean look at him

He’d definitely shit on nu metal and still listen to it

The long greasy black hair, not showering, thinking he’s better than everyone else yeah sounds like a metal head to me/ hj

He listens Cattle Decapitation, Peeling Flesh, Suicide Silence, Cannibal Corpse, Avatar and literally anything with machine gun drums

He listens to some 90s emo but will never admit

Definitely wears band shirts especially the ones he got from concerts when he was a teen

He loves a good mosh pit

You know, the ones where you come out all bloody?

Yeah he loves those

He can hurt people in them and it’ll be fine? Sign him up! (Man has no pit manners smh)

Definitely a metal elitist

“You like SOAD? Ugh that not REAL metal”

Stfu Jeff.

Yeah. Metalhead to his core.

LJill (I love her, so underrated)

Victorian goth as well, but she leans more in the gothic Lolita side of it

Wears pretty gothic Lolita dresses with lots of black and white lace, buttons and she’ll have a matching bonnet and parasol to match when she’s feeling extra fancy!

She feels so elegant and feminine when she puts her multiple layers of petticoats on! She wouldn’t be caught dead without them!

Her makeup and lipstick is always perfect.

Her hair is always either perfectly curled or perfectly straightened

The goal is to look as doll like as possible ( also because she is one!)

She listens to music box like music if that makes sense?? For example Swan Lake by Fairy Lullaby or Porcelain Eyes

She, like LJ listens to classical music and goth music

But mainly classical and music box!

Will go to tea parties and knows how to make tea cakes and sandwiches

Just a lady all around!

Jane: Trad Goth/ Casual Goth/ Amy Lee

Since Jane is always on the move and doesn’t really have time to get all dressed up

So she’ll usually be in a simple black dress or black pants and a turtleneck

But when she does get a chance to dress up

She dresses trad goth mixed with Amy Lee

She’ll have her hair long with bangs covering her forehead

Trad goth makeup, but a bit more modern,big eyeliner and arched brows

She’ll be wearing corsets and waist trainers

Long skirts, ripped leggings

High heel platforms

She goes all out and she looks great!

Listens to music like The Cure, Siouxsie and the Banshees, New Years Day and The Birthday Massacre

Can do goth dances very well

God she’s beautiful

Toby: Midwestern Emo/ early 2000s emo/ a tad grunge/ indie

He just looks like one tbh

But seriously he had a hard life and emo music gives him comfort

Toby wears flannel shirts, grandpa sweaters, simple tee shirts and pants that are loose but not too loose

Hiking boots, sneakers

He listens to Chidos, The Front Bottoms, State Champs, Real Friends, Nirvana, Yawning, Hail the Sun, The Used, A Lot Like Birds, Static Dress, Mild High Club and many many more

He can play the guitar, drums and sing pretty well

He needed something to keep him busy while he was homeschooled after all! And it took his mind off of the horrible things he was going through

Plus with him feeling no pain, he could practice his hands bleed so his hands are really calloused

He likes to sit in the woods and just listen to music sometimes

He’s a loner like that

Especially in the fall when the leaves are so pretty

He feels almost peaceful. Almost

EJ: Tbh I can’t put him in a single box I feel like he’d be everything

He’ll listen to whatever whenever

Except religious music it freaks him out

Ya know because of the cult that took his eyes

But I see him liking dark ,dreamy music if that makes sense

His taste actually lines up with Toby’s pretty well

Static dress, MGMT, YKWIM by Yot Club, Homage by the Mild High club, My Bloody Valentine, Grouper

Also anything with sad guitars like wish by sign crushes motorist (Toby likes music like this too)

Sometimes even lo-fi if he has to unwind

Jack wears all black most of the time. Just so he doesn’t look too dirty

Black hoodie, black shirt, black pants, black shoes

He also feels like any other color won’t go with his now grey skin

But yeah EJ is just a dude with a wide music taste

We love that for him

Nina: Obviously Scene+Emo= scemo

Do I even have to explain?

She listens to Pierce the Veil, Sleeping with Sirens, Bring Me the Horizon, Paramore, AFI, FOB, Get Scared, Hey Monday, MCR, Ghosttown, Millionaires, Brokencyde, Medic Driod, Dot Dot Curve, A Skylight Drive, ISMFOF ,everything Toby listens too as well(and many more)

Nina wears either all black with colorful hair or has her signature black and pink with more colorful outfits

Cheeta print, skulls, DIY stuff, band shirts, tube tops, tutus, skinny jeans, brass knuckle necklaces, hoop earrings, black eyeshadow, big teased hair with raccoon tails

Yeah she’s 2000s emo fs

Goes to raves and concerts like crazy

But she’s not opposed to any kind of music and will do goth makeup for fun

And wear Jane’s clothes

She thinks goth is really pretty but it’s just not her

She’ll stick with scemo lol

Jason The Toymaker: Steampunk/ Victorian Circus Core

The copper in his clothes

The bright red hair

The long flowing jacket with intimate details

Yeah he’s definitely steam punk

Im not sure what kind of music steampunks listen to but I’d like to know!

Jason definitely listens to Emilie Autumn and old PATD

BEN: EDM

I mean…it was obvious

Skillix, deadmouse, xxxanteria, Luci4, old Flying Lotus albums, 9lives

He’s literally code so I think he’d like it

Not much else to say here tbh

I’m getting tired so lmk if you want a part 2 lol

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sassydefendorflower · 1 year

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Fashion Worldbuilding in FMA:b

From a historical fashion standpoint, the fashion in FMA:b (and the manga) is all over the place, but since the 1914/1915 setting of Amestris is not actually linked to the real historical time period there is no need to apply rigid fashion rules to the worldbuilding. And yet, I think it is very interesting to explain the fashion of Amestris through a Watsonian lens.

And what better place to start with than the very a-historical skin-tight, skin-showing clothing of our teenage characters?

Winry is always dressed practically and job oriented (coveralls, gloves, something to tie her hair back with) and yet she’s also dressed like a typical modern teenager. Crop tops and short skirts are the norm for when Winry is doing everyday stuff outside of her workshop or extreme territories. She is by far not the only character that dresses like this - we see both Matel and Paninya in similarly tight and form-fitting outfits.

And the world around them doesn’t react to this excess of skin with disgust or outrage - their way of clothing seems to be the general norm, or at least pretty widespread and accepted. But if we look closer, it seems that this is only a societal norm for young people.

Most of the older women we meet, are dressed rather conservatively, with dresses and long skirts being the norm. Hair is most often drawn in a bun on older female characters, and the general dress shape seems to be late 19th century inspired.

In this crowd scene for example, we can see a handful of young women wearing pants with their hair open, while the majority of the women depicted seem to be wearing skirts, dresses, and aprons as befitting a working women, while others seems to have scarves wrapped around their shoulders as if out and about on a stroll through town.

Which would make sense. This would divide the expected “proper” way of dressing along the axis of age (and/or marital status), with the cut-off being somewhere in the mid- to late twenties. Characters like Riza Hawkeye, Matel, and Sheska play into this, as they are all more conservatively dressed as Winry, but do not yet follow stricter fashion rules as they seem to be common in older demographics.

In this scene Riza is wearing a skirt that covers her knees and a jacket that covers her neck and the entirety of her arms. We later see her dressed in different civilian clothes as well, with a white blouse, a pink cardigan, and comfortable loose pants. As such she is in a transitional phase of fashion, between the more loose and short styles of the youth and the more traditional cuts of the older generation.

Shezka is much the same, her blouse and typical turtleneck much more “grown up” than the clothes Winry and her age-mates wear, and yet the rest of her clothes have not yet reached the same level of “age”. Both of these characters are also unmarried, which could be another factor in the way they dress - historically speaking, expectations on dress were different between single women and those that were married, so there is a distinct possibility of the same being the case in the world of FMA.

Which brings us to another very interesting axis of analysis: how do jobs and fashion interact in Fullmetal Alchemist?

The way I see it Amestris is a country on the verge of changing. We see a noteworthy amount of female soldiers, but only one female General - so much so, that Sloth is ordered to kill “the” female General, because Olivier Mira Armstrong is the only woman in the upper brass. The other female soldiers we meet all have ranks up to First Lieutenant, but nothing above. There are no female State Alchemists. Most of the other professionals we meet are men.

It makes sense for Olivier to be the first female general based on her family history and the fact that she was probably an outstanding soldier - but it also highlights that the military as a structure has probably only allowed female soldiers for up to 30 to 40 years by the time we meet the Elrics and their world. And I see much of Amestris through that lens - most gender-based laws have probably been repelled by now, but the society at large still remembers a much more divided structure. This is reflected in the fashion, of course.

In a country that has only recently changed its views on which professional fields should be open to all genders, the divide between the fashion rules for those that remember more rigid structures and those that grew up without certain assumptions is growing. Societal standards are slow to change, but they do reflect the opinions of the general public - or at least the rules and traditions people tend to cling to.

Let’s take Gracia for example. While the hemline in general seems to be rising in all age demographics (except the elderly, while staying relatively conservative in older demographics and - hypothetically - married women) Gracia dresses less form-fitting than other women in her age range (Riza Hawkeye, Rebecca Catalina). She is generally dressed more “proper”, even later on when we see her wearing skirts that end above the knee. What I really find interesting though is the comparison to her younger self - roughly eight years younger, as this is a picture from the end of the Ishval War. Even though she is probably about twenty to twenty-three in this picture, she is dressed a lot more conservative than all the other female characters we have met in that age range so far. This can have multiple reasons. Maybe Gracia is from a more conservative, rich family that favors more traditional style of dress - or we can see the rabid change in society in just eight years.

Again, Amestris as a society in the middle of extreme social change.

We can even see it in the military uniforms. Female soldiers in active duty wear the same clothes as their male counterparts.

(including the butt-cape)

But what we see multiple times is other female officers employed at Central Command (or other military headquarters) wearing a different uniform - with a much shorter skirt (tho a longer skirt option seems to be available, as we also see female soldiers wearing skirts that cover the knees).

This could imply two things: a) the longer skirts were the normal uniform for female employees of the military not cleared for active duty, and only recently shorter skirts became a part of the uniform as a reaction to the changing fashion landscape or b) the shorter skirts existed for longer as some sort of sexist tool of the upper brass to demean their female employees.

For the sake of our current worldbuilding, let’s go with Option A).

Again, the general hemline seems to be rising - in a way, it wouldn’t even be historically unheard off. In the 1920s the female silhouette changed so much in young, city-dwelling circles that you might even see the occasional knee peak out from under a skirt - Amestris could be experiencing a similar change in fashionable dress.

There is one other thing I want to mention while I’m at it: the influences of other cultures on Amestrian culture and fashion.

Amestris is an imperial power, and while that means that it has a very strong national identity on the one hand, we can also see how it has adapted other cultural influences in its daily life. While the wearing of traditional Ishvalen clothing is probably demonized and a sure way to get othered, influenced from other nations Amestris is war-ing with can be found.

Xing-style clothing seems to be pretty common, and if anything it seems to be a sign of status to be able to afford clothes from Xing.

We see Mrs. Bradley were Xing-style clothing multiple times throughout the show, and it always seems to be something a lady of good standing can do without consequences. This implies a certain level of cultural trade and exchange between the two countries, especially once you consider that Xingese features seem to be common enough in Amestris that Ling always has to mention his status as a foreigner since his appearance alone would not give it away.

(And the fact that all Lan Fan and Fu had to do to go undercover was exchange their Xingese dress for classical Amestrian clothing and suddenly they could disappear in a crowd without a problem)

And this bit of decor in General Grumman’s office? This also implies some sort of cultural influences from Drachma.

There is also the fact that class probably does play a role in the way people dress, with people from Rush Valley, a certified weird town full of weird people, dressing more wild, with less need for social conventions in a place like that. And people from the countryside favoring practicality over fashion, and much of the women we see there wearing loose dresses and aprons, which makes sense. At the same time, what little we see of the Armstrong family, they seem to favor a more conservative style of dress, even at a younger age.

Which makes sense - fashion is influenced by a lot of different factors, class, age, gender, gender representation, work and cultural influences all making a difference.

And just as an aside - while this post mostly discusses women’s fashion in FMA:b, I think it applies to men’s fashion as well. At least to a certain degree. While most men are much more uniformly dressed in “old-timey” clothing, the current shift seems to be happening when it comes to wearing hats.

And I also think teenage boys are less tied to the fashion expectations of their time - Edward for example dresses very modernly and weird. BUT and - this is very interesting - his sense of fashion is constantly considered as outside of the norm. Part of his Growing-Up Arc is starting to wear the clothes society expects him to wear... which means that while women’s fashion is rapidly changing, men’s fashion is still rather strict in comparison, with breaking of the rules being perceived as socially “punishable” in comparison.

#fma #fmab #edward elric #winry rockbell #riza hawkeye #fullmetal alchemist brotherhood #fma meta #fmab meta #fashion history #paninya #maria ross #my fun take on the world of amestris #amestris #fake fashion history #nothing too deep #just me doing a too deep analysis of the text #watsonian analysis

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