#I just had to draw something that wasn’t my other projects | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hayatoseyepatch · 6 months ago

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∘∙⊱Description: Who would our little less experienced characters go to for help in pleasing their partner?

∘∙⊱Featuring: Haruka Sakura, Jo Togame, Kyotaro Sugishita, Hajime Umemiya, Akihiko Nirei, Hayato Suo x fem!reader

∘∙⊱Words: 2.7k (I might have gotten a wee bit carried away, oops)

∘∙⊱Tags: fem!reader, minor spoiler warning for the manga (nothing too specific mentioned), aged up, smut, threesome, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, teasing, dom/sub dynamics, petnames, praising, degradation, dacryphilia, oral (m&f receiving), etc.

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a/n: Please be gentle with me I haven’t written anything proper in like 2 years lmao. But I’m currently obsessed with windbreaker and figured I’d take matters into my own hands for creating some content for these boys. Enjoy some spicy headcannons! You know the drill, 18+ content MDNI.

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-Sakura is a damn mess. I love this boy so much but he is. Because lets be honest, even getting together with Sakura was a project. This poor baby never even had someone show him friendship let alone love.

-(Slight Manga Spoilers) Sakura has gone to Togame for help before when it came to the battle with Noroshi, and Togame has proven himself to be someone Sakura can rely on. Sakura treats everything like a fight, this is no different.

-Togame, in comparison, had much more experience. Being in Shishitoren was a lot on Togame before he met Sakura, so he had his fair share of sexual partners to relieve some stress.

-Sakura was new to relying on others, and even newer to asking for help. His face a bright red and a deep furrow in his brows. Togame took one look at his expression, eyebrows raising in curiosity. “What’s up Sakura, you good?” He had asked lazy crooked smile in place, tough he’d be lying if he wasn’t a bit concerned.

-Sakura’s scowl only deepened in response. “I need your help with something.” When Togame had urged him to go on, between clenched teeth he had asked him to help him pleasing his partner.

-To say Togame was shocked would be an understatement. Sakura’s furrow in his brow deepened. “Listen, I know your much more experienced than I am, I just.. I want to make sure she feels good too. But I fucking swear one smart ass comment and I’ll beat your ass into next week. You got it?” Togame’s eyes softened he knew how Sakura was, how hard it was for him to ask for help. He must really care for you. He agreed without a second thought.

-It wasn’t long before he found himself in your shared bedroom. His eyes wide at your form clad in nothing but a cute matching set the both of your cheeks adorned with the same bright red hue. He had to remind himself why he was here. He was here to help his friend, but gods were you so damn beautiful.

You felt so exposed, tears collecting on your lashes, as Togame has you spread open for Sakura. Your back resting against Togame’s chest, your thighs hooked over his, fully exposing your dripping center to Sakura’s hungry gaze. Togame’s long fingers drawing lazy circles over your needy clit. Your essence was dripping from your opening onto the sheets below, it had felt like Togame had been teasing your for hours, mind already swimming and neither of them had even filled your cunt. Togame’s other hand gently thumbing at your nipple, had you wiggling desperately in his grasp.

“See, Sakura, you need to take your time. You see how much of a mess her pretty pussy is making?” He chuckles, deep and breathy, right into your ear. “All that wetness is gonna make it feel so much better for the both of you. Plus just see for yourself how sexy it sounds”

Sakura felt like he was going to explode, his cheeks radiating warmth with how red they were, his cock straining against his pants, aching for attention. All Sakura could do is nod eyes locked on your dripping cunt. “Go ahead Sakura, slowly slip two fingers inside, that’s it, see how easy it is?” he grins at the look on Sakura’s face at the squelching sound your cunt makes, coupled with the sound that falls from your lips at the feeling of his fingers stretching your once empty cunt. “sh-shut the fuck up I know how to put my fingers inside, asshole” Sakura grumbles, but he couldn’t deny Togame was right, they’ve never slipped in with such ease before.

Togame chuckles once more. “Oh she’s so responsive, how adorable~” Sakura’s eyes are wide, he’s never heard you make that sound before, he quickly gets drunk on your reactions, fingers gliding in and out of your cunt with ease with how wet you were. Togame continues to guide Sakura, telling him just how to position his fingers in such a way that he is repeatedly hitting the spot deep inside you that has your vision going white.

“Oh! H-Haruka, right there, please please I’m gonna~” You cry out, embarrassed at how loud your volume had gotten as you beg for release. Togame finally picks up speed, his fingers no longer drawing lazy patterns but circling your clit faster now. “That’s it doll, don’t hold back, show Sakura how good he’s making you feel.” Sakura watches intently, mesmerized, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers body trembling as he and Togame’s fingers guide you through your orgasm. Sakura surging forward, lips claiming yours hungrily, swallowing your moans. Coming down from you high, breaths panting as you try and calm your racing heart and trembling thighs.

“Alright Sugar, I think your ready for the main event.” Both you and Sakura’s eyes widen at Togame’s words, you were both in for a long night.

Umemiya & Sugishita

-Let’s be honest here, Sugishita is trusting NO ONE other than Umemiya. He hold so much respect for him and I feel like if he’s going to anyone its him.

-I feel like his partner also spends plenty of time with Umemiya, so it wouldn’t be a stranger who is being invited into their bedroom. A good bit of Sugishita’s time is spent helping Umemiya in the garden or with meetings, so its safe to say that his partner spends a good bit of their time on the rooftop with them.

-Sugishita also knows that Umemiya will be gentle and not push any boundaries that him or his partner are uncomfortable with. He finds some relief knowing Umemiya isn’t going to go all sadistic on his partner.

-That being said Sugishita is still so nervous to ask for help. He’s worried in some way he’d be disappointed in him for not being able to fulfill his partners needs. Umemiya is so caught off-guard when he asks too, Sugishita rarely ever asks for help so as the leader and viewing Furin’s members as his siblings of course he’s happy to help! Though Sugishita’s next words were ones he couldn’t have guessed even if he tried.

-When the time comes, and the three of you are in the comfort of your bed, they dwarf your frame. These boys are BIG, Sugishita is 6’3” and Umemiya is 6’2” so honeybun I’m praying for you for real.

-Umemiya is so patient, his gentle words guiding both of your actions, he is fully in hold of the reins. He has the both of you hanging on to his every word.

“That’s it Sugishita, be gentle, ease into her. She how much easier it slides in after warming her up?” Umemiya’s voice is tender, guiding Sugishita’s actions and easing your mind. His deep baritone spoken directly in your ear has you letting out shudder. Sugishita lets out a deep groan, you were always tight, normally struggling to take his girth. But your velvet walls pulled him in the wetness from the last hour Umemiya spent between your thighs making him slide in with ease.

“So.. fucking.. tight” Sugishita grunts, heeding his mentor’s word, resisting the urge to slam into you desperate to feel more of you. You whimper at the stretch, Umemiya titling your chin upwards, lips meeting your own. His tongue exploring your mouth, large hands roaming your body. One hand circles a sensitive nipple, the other has his fingers tracing mindless shapes on your clit. Effectively distracting you from the stretch of Sugishita entering your tight heat. The both of you moan loudly as Sugishita bottoms out, feeling filled to the brim and he hadnt even gotten started. “That’s it, give her a moment, let her get accustomed. Its okay sweetheart, poor little thing your tight little pussy is so full isn’t it baby?” The gentle tone of Umemiya’s voice contradicts the absolute filth that leaves his mouth. His words having you wiggling your hips desperate for more. “Please, Kyo, more.. please fuck me”

Umemiya grins, the desperate tone in your voice has his own cock straining against the tight fabric of his boxers. “Go on Sugishita, she asked so nicely, are you gonna make her beg?” He teases, having both of your cheeks flushing pink, as Sugishia begins to move. His hips rutting into yours, your head being tossed back, resting on Umemiya’s shoulder. “Please.. please.. touch me Ume” You beg, your voice sounding foreign to your own ears in your desperation.

The older man grins, lips attaching themselves to your neck, his fingers resuming their ministrations on your sensitive spots. Letting out a deep growl, Sugishita picks up the pace hips slamming into your own. “You see that Sugishita, you see how deep you are inside her?” He teases, pointing out the bulge in your tummy where he can practically see just how deep he was thrusting inside you. He gritted his teeth willing himself not to cum, not yet. Not when you felt so good, not when you were making such beautiful sounds.

Your hand reaches behind you, slipping inside Umemiya’s boxers, your small hand wrapping around his cock, giving an experimental tug not wanting to leave him out. He curses into your neck. His hips thrusting into you hand as you begin pumping his length in your hand. Sugishita couldn’t take it anymore, you felt too good, your sounds doing too much to him. You too were on the edge. “Kyo, Kyo, please gonna..” You come undone with a cry, Sugishita matching your actions, spilling himself into your waiting cunt. After catching your breath, you and Sugshita have a silent conversation with your eyes, his response being an approving nod and a grunt, as you turn your half lidded gaze up to Umemiya.

“Ume.. please fuck me.. wanna make you feel good too.” The white haired male’s eyes widening at your forwardness, but as he said to Sugishita earlier, he wasn’t going to make you beg when you asked so nicely.

-See these two here… I think this arrangement is a bit different from the others. Unlike Sakura & Sugishita, it isn't Nirei going to Suo for help for his partner, but rather Suo helping Nirei get some experience under his belt.

-Suo is already training Nirei, taking him under his wing to show him how to defend himself, to him this was just another lesson for him to give the blonde.

-Nirei was confused when Suo had texted him telling him to meet him at his apartment rather than their usual meeting spot for training. Regardless, he followed instruction, curious as to where Suo lived. After all these years of knowing him, he still only knew what Suo let him know about him he was a mystery to him.

-He met Nirei at the door his signature closed eye smile adorning his face, laced with mischief, as he led him inside. “y/n isnt here, Suo?” Nirei had asked curiously, also with a twinge of nervousness.

-Suo was extremely perceptive, he noticed the cherry red that dusted Nirei’s cheeks whenever you greeted him or made idle chatter. How could he not? You were breathtaking after all. So Suo would throw one of his closest friends a bone. Tilting his head with a smile. “Oh no, she’s here, just in the bedroom waiting for our lesson.”

-Nirei didnt know what he was expecting when he followed Suo into their bedroom, but he nearly fainted seeing you sat on the bed waiting patiently in nothing but your bra and panties. Before he could profusely apologize for catching you in such a state of undress and run, his friend had placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “Today’s lesson is going to be a bit different, today me and y/n are going to be teaching you about inflicting pleasure rather than pain.”

-The nervous blonde thought his heart might just beat right out of his chest, was this a cruel prank from you both? Had Suo caught him staring at you and decided to give him a humiliating punishment?

-He would be a liar if he said he hadn’t imagined being with you before. If he hadn’t spent late nights fucking his fist, imagining it was you touching him instead. If he didn’t whimper your name in his pillow as he came.

-But when your big doe eyes met his, a delicate hand reached out to welcome him into the bed with a comforting nod of your head offering your consent, who was he to say no?

“He’s awfully eager isn’t he darling? Oops it seems like your mouths a bit full, how silly of me~” Suo chuckled, tone in his voice teasing, as he stuffed your mouth full of his cock. His eye softening as he looked down at you, fingers carding gently before tugging just the way he knew you liked, forcing more of his cock down your throat.

Your moans sent vibrations around Suo’s cock, he was right, Nirei was surely eager. His tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. His inexperienced tongue was everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Suo needing to remind him to take breaths. Said man, chuckled once more, teasing voice filling the room.

“Nirei, she isn’t going anywhere we’re just getting started, make sure your focusing on her clit, that’s a boy just like, fuck, just like that.” The tail end of his sentence he wasn’t sure which of you it was directed at, the way you bobbed your head taking him expertly in your throat had the normally composed man losing his bearings. Using his grip on your hair he lifted you off his length.

“Come here.” He instructs the blonde, who reluctantly removed his face from its position buried between your thighs. You beckon Nirei to you with your hand in his, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss. Tongue quickly overtaking his own, allowing him to taste Suo on his tongue, a stark reminder of who you belonged to. This seemed to please your boyfriend, enough for him to slot himself between your legs. His cock sliding in with ease due to the wetness from Nirei’s saliva and your own arousal.

You moan, desperately into Nieri’s mouth, head being tossed back at the feeling of Suo’s cock filling you so deeply. His groan making both if you shudder. No time is wasted, you were quick to replace the empty feeling in your mouth with the blonde’s cock. He let out a loud desperate moan as the warmth of your mouth welcomes him in, hollowing your cheeks as you begin to suck. Suo sets a brutal pace from the beginning, determined to have all three of you coming undone at the same time.

You and Nirei’s moans and whimpers bounce off the walls, leaving no question of who was solely in control of you both in this moment. Suo felt the familiar spasm of your walls around him, indicating your impending release. “That’s it my love, come on, let go for me. Show Nirei how beautiful you look coming undone on my cock.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t close, the stimulation of your earlier ministrations bringing him to the edge faster than he normally would. Nirei is the first of you to come, a loud cry falling from his lips, tears streaming down his cheeks as he unloads into your waiting mouth. Nearly coming a second time just from the sight of you swallowing his cum, just so you would be able to cry out Suo’s name as you came on his cock. Suo was the last to topple over the ledge, your orgasm triggering his own. Hands gripping your plush hips in an iron grip as he paints your walls white. The room is silent save for the sounds of panting, all three of you catching your breaths from such intense releases. Suo’s voice is the first to break the silence.

“Alright Nirei, go on, if you clean her up real nice with your tongue I might just let you fuck her pretty cunt after.~”

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Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed, and as always likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated. This is my first time writing for these characters so I hope I did them some justice. See you in the next one!

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melancholyhigh · 1 year ago

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ARTWORK

ft. leon x artist!reader

synopsis. you're an artist, and leon's your muse.

content. 1.5k words. fluff, smut. nude painting, leon's pov, needy leon, praise kink, masturbation, handjob.

note. this was j supposed to be fluff but i got ahead of myself.

masterlist. i love your guy's feedback :3

“Paint me like one of your French girls.”

You laugh at Leon’s statement. He’s perched on the small, green couch in your home art studio, wearing nothing but his pink, fluffy robe as you prepare your oil paints.

“You’re my first French girl, Leon.”

–-

You had suggested painting him nude while you were both in bed, lazing around. You’re in each other’s hold, Leon’s arms around your waist and face on your chest when he asks about any new projects you had in mind.

He loves hearing about what art piece you were doing or planned to do. It was how you expressed yourself, whether there was a deeper meaning or none at all. He found it beautiful. Every work you do it had a bit of your personality in it. He could tell your work from thousands by the intricate details they carry.

When you told Leon you wanted to paint him, he wasn’t too surprised. You mentioned he was your favourite thing to draw or think of when you had art block. The admission had left him sputtering, his face red as he tried to get his words out.

On the third date, you showed him your sketchbook, pages littered with drawings and portraits of him. Some were quick sketches, while other’s looked like you took time to get every detail of him.

You’re always on my mind, Leon. You had confessed. Was it a little creepy? At that moment, flipping through the drawings of him, the attention to detail they held, he’d say it was romantic.

People have always said he was pretty as a picture, yet you’re the only one that makes his heart beat faster and his tummy fill with butterflies when you say he’s the type of gorgeous you’d find in a painting.

“A nude painting,” you specify. It was as if you told Leon he was the object of your affection for the first time again. His head buries into your chest, trying to hide his flushed face. You smile at his sudden bashfulness.

“It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, baby.” You run your fingers through his soft hair. “I want to try something new, but it’s okay. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“‘S fine, angel. But can’t you use a picture?”

“Where’s the fun in that, pretty boy.”

He groans, muffled by your shirt, and you giggle.

He loves to please you — in more ways than one — and nothing compares to the smile that graces your face, so he agrees. It’s not like Leon’s uncomfortable with you looking at him bare and vulnerable. There were other problems he was worried would interrupt your craftwork.

–-

Leon leans back into the couch, doing just as you instructed. His bare back hits the soft cushioning, and it’s surprisingly comfortable.

His robe is off, on the floor next to your easel. He rests his chin on his hand, supported on the arm of the couch.

He’s nervous. You said it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but this almost feels more intimate than being intertwined with you in bed.

Maybe it’s the gaze you hold when you’re analysing him, grasping the compositions and layering basic shapes onto the canvas.

He can’t help but think of when you told him he’s your favourite canvas to mark up. Sucking the reddish marks into his skin which turn the prettiest shade of purple, as you like to put it. Or when you said the colour on his cheek was your favourite shade of pink.

You always did like to rile him up, muttering the filthiest things to him in the most mundane setting, just like right now.

“Spread your legs wider, Leon.” You mumble in a casual tone as if you don’t know the implications of your own words. You’re so engrossed with getting your work right you probably don’t.

It’s so fucking sexy seeing you in your element. Your brows pinched together, and your face serious with concentration.

He obediently listens to you, parting his legs wide, and the problem he wishes wouldn’t happen is currently hardening between his thighs. You don’t notice, mixing paints to ensure it's the correct shade.

You’re probably 30 minutes into painting, and he’s already hard. You said you’d take a while to finish, and he could tap out whenever he wants to, but he doesn’t want to disappoint.

Finally, you’re looking up from the canvas and towards Leon. Your brows quirked up in surprise when trying to examine his features, studying the curve of his nose and the sharpness of his jawline to imitate on the canvas. His face is pink, the shade you know and adore so much.

Your eyes trail down his body, his dick fully erect, slapping against his stomach. Your gaze is on his face again with a smirk on your lips.

He knows, you know, he’s rock-hard simply from the glances you take at him and the words you mutter. His lashes flutter, and he moves his hand to cover his face while the other is shamefully obscuring his cock.

“Be a good boy, and don’t move, Leon. I want to make sure everything looks good.” You say, and he thinks you aren’t going to acknowledge his 7-inch problem.

“Oh, and make sure your pretty dick is hard for me, okay, baby?” You go back to your painting, trying to hide your smug expression.

His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows his nerves, but he relents, going into position, not before giving his cock a firm squeeze.

“Don’t cum too, okay? I want to be the one making you cry.”

A few hours pass, and Leon is on the verge of tears. He listened to what you said, only providing himself with enough stimulation to keep his cock hard but not enough to tip him over the edge into bliss.

Precum leaks from the head down to the shaft. His dick is red and spent. He wants nothing more than for you to stop painting and make him cum.

“I’m almost done. You’ve been such a good boy for me, baby.”

Your words are almost enough to make him spill his cum over the expensive fabric of your eccentric couch.

You’re adding the finishing touches to the painting with each stroke, making sure you get the placement of each mole or freckle correct and each vein of his cock following to the tip right.

You swear he belongs in a museum. No art can replicate how beautiful he truly is.

“I’m done.” You sigh, moving to get up to rid your skin of paint.

After rinsing yourself off the paint, you make your way to Leon. You get comfortable in a seat on the couch right next to him. He’s breathing heavily in anticipation, looking up at you through his long lashes. Pretty, pink lips parted as pretty gasps left him.

You cup his face, pressing your lips to his. The kiss is soft as you move your lips slowly in unison. He breathes out your name when you pull away. One of your hands moves to his throat, softly squeezing. Leon whimpers, his hands moving to hold your waist.

“Good job, baby. You didn’t cum once. I know it hurts, but I'm going to make you feel better,” you whisper, softly kissing his flushed forehead.

Your hand moves to his pulsing cock, and gives it a soft squeeze, relishing the whine Leon lets out. Your touch sends goosebumps along his skin, and he plants his head into the crook of your neck.

His hips eagerly buck into your hold. He’s practically sobbing into your neck, his soft hair tickling the underside of your jaw. You rest your chin on top of his head, smelling the fragrance of his shampoo.

You thumb the slit on the tip of his cock, using his precum as a lubricant to start moving your hand back and forth on his shaft.

You start at a slow pace. You don’t want Leon cumming quickly, wanting to enjoy every cry and whimper.

The soft shlick noise of you jerking Leon’s cock fills the room with his desperate cries. He pulls back away from the crook of your neck, tears flowing down his blushing face.

“Please, please, please, g– go faster, angel. I’ve been such a good boy for you. Let me cum, please.” He pleads, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes. His hips rutted frantically into your palm. How could you deny your boy?

“Okay, pretty baby. Cum for me.” You say softly, picking up the pace of jerking him off.

He whimpers loudly, thighs quivering lightly as his orgasm crashes and hot spurts of his cum spill onto your hand. He’s panting, dazed with lust and staring at you with what seems like hearts in his eyes.

“T- thank you, thank you, s’much.” Leon gasps like a broken record, and you think he’s fucked himself dumb with your hand.

You peck his lips, effectively shutting him up.

“Let’s get you cleaned up so I can show you my favourite artwork yet.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #re4 remake #resident evil 4 #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #re4 smut #re4 #✩‧₊˚ fics

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hopepetal · 23 days ago

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This story is set in @applestruda's boatem knights au! I've wanted to write something with Gem for a while, so here it is!

Masterlist

Read on AO3!

It’s been so long since her last bounty, and Gem is itching for a fight.

This much, she tells Cleo while watching the armorer work on their newest project. Gem’s frequent visits had allowed the two to grow close over the course of her bounty hunting career, to the point where it wasn’t always business that brought her there. Sometimes, it was just for casual conversation, or just because Gem was bored or passing through the area.

Cleo raises an eyebrow, not looking up from her work. “Tell you what,” she begins, turning the chest plate slightly so that it could catch the light, “it’s all well and good that you want a fight until you get yourself caught up in one you can’t win.”

Gem scoffs at that as she leans against the counter. “Oh, I never lose. You don't need to worry about me, Cleo.”

“That’s what Etho kept saying, before you chopped his damn head off.”

Rolling her eyes, Gem flicks her braid behind her shoulder. “That was Etho. And, as you clearly haven’t forgotten, I was the one who did the chopping there. So thanks, but I think I’m good.”

Cleo chuckles. “Yeah, yeah. Just return here in one piece, alright? I can’t be losing my best customer.”

Gem sets her elbows on the counter, leaning forward with a cheery grin. “Best customer and best friend?”

“Get out.”

And so Gem finds herself wandering back to the kingdom of Dogwarts, in search of work and a fight. Maybe both. For her, it usually was. It’s why she chose this path of employment, of course– one didn’t just stumble into becoming a bounty hunter. Unless they were particularly skilled at said stumbling, of course.

It’s been a while since Gem’s been in the bustling kingdom, and the stark difference between the outer lands and the kingdom always amazes her. She knew that the kingdom boasted the most prestigious redstone academy in the continent, but it’s another thing entirely to see that in action.

Compared to the sparse population of the outer lands, the kingdom is a bustling city full of people. They continue to add on new developments each year, the construction drawing even more people to the kingdom for work on top of the people already moving in. It was certainly a far cry from the occasional village Gem stumbled upon in the outer lands.

The other difference that really stood out to her was the difference in how prevalent magic was. In the outer lands, magic is everywhere– from daily tasks to impressive feats, it was impossible to go one day without seeing some sort of spell. In the kingdom, it’s a lot more common to see redstone inventions being used in place of magic, though magic is still used. It was much more noticeable to Gem, who travels back and forth frequently between the two extremes.

It wasn’t long before Gem ends up making her way into the local tavern, the place where she found most of the jobs she took. It’s rowdy as ever, and she finds herself missing the quiet of her friend’s tavern. Nevertheless, she quickly finds her usual seat and orders her usual drink, greeting the bartender with a tired smile.

“Anything new?” she asks after a few minutes, when the bartender wasn’t so swamped with orders.

The bartender shrugs. “Not really? But there was something that caught my eye.” They set down their glass for a moment and duck below the bar, grabbing a paper and placing it in front of Gem. “An older one, but it’s resurfaced recently with everyone cleaning out all the more urgent ones.” With that, the bartender gives her a pointed look, to which she responds with a laugh. “Anyway. A runaway who destroyed a very important lab of the king and escaped on foot with precious redstone and technology. He’s assumed to be armed and very dangerous.”

Gem pulls the paper to her, looking it over closely. It seemed to be an average bounty– especially for who had put it out. The man’s face is inked in an artistic depiction of him beneath his ‘WANTED’ notice and list of crimes. What most stands out to her is his incredibly sharp mustache and scruffy beard. “Mm… I see. And this was put out by the king’s advisor himself? I’m surprised it’s gone unclaimed for so long.”

The bartender shrugs, continuing to go about their job as they converse with Gem. “I think most people were daunted by the task. That, and those who tried to find this man simply couldn’t. He’s a slippery fellow, so I’ve been told.”

Gem laughs, her eyes not leaving the man’s inked face. “Well, I’ve been told I have quite the talent for catching those who hide in the shadows.” Quite literally, if she thought back to her last big job. Which, while it had technically ended in success, isn’t really something she wants to go through again.

Gem had not signed up for magical creatures that revived when you cut off their heads. A simple redstone thief with a penchant for explosions? Yeah, she had this one in the bag.

“I’ll take it,” she tells the bartender, folding up the paper and sticking it into her bag. “Sounds like a fun little job.”

The bartender chuckles, shaking their head. “How long do you think this one’s going to take you?” they ask, already knowing Gem’s answer.

“A month, tops.” She says this with the same confident smile that she always wears when going out on jobs. “Any more than that, and I owe you a drink.”

The bartender throws a towel over their shoulder, laughing. “Well, can’t wait for that to never happen. I’m sure you’ll be back even sooner than we expect as usual, with a story to tell.”

Finishing her drink, Gem stands back up. “I never disappoint,” she promises, sliding the payment for her drink over the table. “I’ll see you then! And thanks for the tip!” she calls, making her way out of the tavern.

It was time to go hunt down a redstoner.

It actually isn't as hard as she thought.

The man– Mumbo, his name is– has made a name for himself in the outer lands to the North. Gem can't help but be a little surprised. She's never had a bounty with such mixed public opinion; some people absolutely love him, while others want his head to roll.

“That man?” Someone had scoffed when she asked, shaking their head. “Void below, I can't stand him. He's a genius, sure, but the noise he makes!” They had clicked their tongue disapprovingly. “And when I complained about it and asked him to be a little more quiet, he threw bricks through my window!”

Another person– a young woman– had a dreamy expression when Gem asked her about Mumbo. “He's such a cute knight! One time, he helped me get my cat down from a tree…”

Her friend had raised an eyebrow. “Clara, he climbed up into the tree and fell off of it. Your cat got down all on her own.”

Clara hadn't responded, lost in her daydreaming.

The more she asks around, the more mixed answers she receives.

Gem couldn't help but laugh at that. This bounty would be interesting, if nothing else.

She finds the camp easily enough. All she has to do is ask where the knights are, and she's pointed in the right direction. It's almost a full day on foot– she leaves her horse at the nearest village to be more stealthy.

It’s getting colder out. The leaves are beginning to shift from green to yellow and orange, sparks of red standing out amongst the others. Gem’s feet crunch against the ground as she travels down the path, hands stuck in her pockets to keep them warm.

She’s been wandering around the area for about a week now, gathering intel on the group. From what she can tell, they’re a close group of four friends: Impulse, Grian, Scar, and her target, Mumbo. She doesn’t get close enough to really hear them talking. She’d heard of avians’ enhanced hearing and doesn’t want to take her chances with getting too close. If the stories she’d heard were true, she didn’t want to get caught by these guys. Especially given what she was here to do.

At one point, she got a little closer to the camp to listen in on a conversation. She had an extra invisibility potion, and she figured she could put it to use for this job. Though she knew enough about the so-called “knights”, more information couldn’t hurt.

The one with brown hair and a very stabbable chest– his name is Scar, she recalls– leans against Grian, the avian of the group. “So, the plan is to head out tomorrow?”

Impulse nods. “Yep. You’re good to stay behind to keep Pearl company, Mumbo?”

Mumbo leans forward, his hands folded in front of him on the table. He looks so polite when he speaks that Gem can hardly believe he’s a hardened criminal. “Of course! I’ll make sure she doesn’t get too lonely.”

Gem frowns at that, but quickly shakes away the uncertainty. If there was another person here, she would’ve seen them by now. Pearl is probably the dog that was prowling around the camp.

Grian sighs and pushes Scar off him, standing up. “Well, I’m absolutely shattered, so I’m going to bed. We gotta get up early if we’re gonna be traveling tomorrow.” He looks up, gaze sweeping over the knights and then around the camp.

At the same time, the wind shifts, and Scar stiffens. His eyes meet Gem’s. Gem sucks in a breath, and has to check to make sure her invisibility potion is still working.

It is, but it doesn’t stop her from shivering as Scar’s gaze lingers, then pulls away.

After a moment, Scar stands, putting on a fake pouty face. “Aww, okay. Goodnight, G! Night, Impulse. Night, Mumbo!”

A chorus of goodnights echoes from the group, and Gem slips away unnoticed.

The forest is anything but quiet at night. Gem is safe up in the trees, and sleep comes easy to her after years of travel, but she remembers her first year of adventuring and the hellish noises that kept her up for hours.

A skeleton rattles below. Further away, a zombie groans. Gem leans against the tree and closes her eyes.

Gem rises with the sun and to the rhythmic sound of horse hooves against well-packed dirt. She exhales, breath turning to fog, before stretching. She turns her head to the side, tracking the sound of hooves. Only when it fades off into the distance does she untie herself from the branch and jump down, finally able to stretch fully.

She takes an hour or two to wake up and gather all her things. It’s almost midday by the time she sheathes her sword after warming up and begins her trek to the camp. It likely won’t come down to a fight, from what she knows about Mumbo, but one can never be too careful. She knows not to underestimate an enemy.

It is somewhat pathetic that she’s able to walk up right behind him without him even noticing, but Gem chalks that up to her being very good at her job.

“Hey there, Mumbo!” she greets, and can’t help but laugh as he shrieks and falls over backwards. “Oop, careful! Don’t hurt yourself.”

Mumbo scrambles back and to his feet, looking up at Gem with wide eyes. “What– what on earth– who are you?! How do you know my name?”

Gem tilts her head to the side, keeping the smile on her face. “I’m Gem. Nice to meet you.” She takes a step forward. “King Ren placed a bounty on your head, and I’m here to collect! Do you want to come with me willingly, or…?” She places a hand on the hilt of her sword.

Mumbo pales. “Well, look, okay, there’s been a misunderstanding!” He holds his hands up as he steps back, eyes darting around wildly. “There’s no need for violence! I’m a very peace loving guy! Peace, love, and plants, y’know!”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “By force, then! That’s cool!” She draws her sword.

Mumbo does what any average person would do– scream, then run away.

Gem, of course, chases. It’s easy enough to catch up to Mumbo and trip him, sending the taller man falling to the ground with another shriek. She quickly puts her sword to Mumbo’s throat, and he freezes.

“...please don’t kill me?” he asks after a moment, chest heaving as he stares up at her. “I don’t, I won’t lie to you, I don’t particularly want to die?”

Gem laughs, shaking her head. “I’m not going to kill you. I just need to bring you back to the king so I can collect your bounty!” She pulls her sword away, twirling it in her hand. “Whatever happens to you after is on him, not me.” She tilts her head. “Also, didn't you have a beard?”

Mumbo blinks. “What? No, I– hold on, a beard?! I know they always get my mustache wrong, but a beard? And what do you mean, a bounty?”

Gem puts her sword back at Mumbo’s throat. “I think they have to hire a new portrait artist. Anyway! I need to take you to the King, so I can get paid, and you can be brought to justice, et cetera.”

“But we can talk about this!” Mumbo pleads. “Surely I could pay you or something, I have quite a lot of things, I–!”

The only warning Gem is given is Mumbo’s gaze darting to the side. Someone slams into her, sending her stumbling away.

Gem turns and sweeps her sword out in time to block the blade of a scythe. The impact jars both her and her attacker, giving Gem enough time to reorient herself.

The woman straightens up, and her fever-clouded eyes focus on Gem. Her wings are flared out, displaying eyespots that stare down at Gem. “Why are ya messin’ with my knights?”

From where he’s fallen, Mumbo yelps, “Pearl!”

Ah. So this is the Pearl they had been talking about. Gem curses herself for making assumptions, then tightens her grip on her sword and grins. “You wanna fight? Fantastic!”

Pearl lets out a sharp breath, and Gem doesn’t fail to notice how her hands tremble slightly holding her scythe. “Not very fair of you to attack Mumbo while he’s all alone, don't ya think?”

Gem laughs as she shifts into a fighting stance. “I’d say it’s more fair than a 2v1!”

“I’m staying out of this!” Mumbo interjects, continuing to back away. “Good luck, Pearl!”

Pearl tilts her head. “That fair enough for you?” She doesn’t wait for Gem to answer, folding her wings tight against her back and lunging for her.

It’s been a while since Gem’s had a good fight. Since Etho, she thinks, though the fight with him had been made interesting by his strange abilities with shadows and ice. Pearl isn't using any magic– it's pure skill that Gem is fighting against, and it's been a while since she's fought anyone like this.

As the fight goes on, though, it becomes more clear to Gem just how unfocused Pearl is. By the looks of it, she'd just rolled out of bed when Mumbo screamed. Gem shakes away any doubts about fighting someone who is clearly ill as she blocks a strike that would've taken her arm off.

“Wow!” she exclaims, ducking and stepping to the side as Pearl's scythe sweeps over her, “you're really going all out, huh?”

Pearl laughs in response to that, as if they were two friends sparring for fun. “You were attacking my Mumbo! ‘course I'm goin’ all out!”

Gem swings out with her sword again, catching Pearl's leg with her blade. “Your Mumbo is a wanted criminal!”

Pearl yelps and stumbles back. She holds out her scythe in a defensive position.

Gem takes a moment to catch her breath, staring at Pearl. “It'd be best if you just hand Mumbo over! I promise I won't hurt him!”

Pearl shakes her head. “Absolutely not, mate! Mumbo is family!”

Gem shrugs. “Your grave, then!”

She lunges.

The fight has a sort of rhythm to it. Gem lunges, Pearl blocks. Pearl slices with her scythe, Gem dodges. The rhythm is only broken by Pearl occasionally stumbling– which Gem takes advantage of to strike out and nick Pearl. She's never able to make too deep a cut, and Pearl gets her back plenty of times, but she lands enough hits to start feeling much better about her chances of winning.

...and then she's on the ground, dew soaking into her clothes as she lies there. Her sword is gone, fallen out of her hand in the struggle.

She looks up at Pearl, who stands above her. Her cheeks are reddened by exertion and fever, her hair is cascading over her shoulders in messy waves, and most infuriatingly there is a smile on her lips even as she holds her scythe to Gem's throat.

Gem doesn't move. She waits, with bated breath, for Pearl to kill her.

Instead, Pearl sheathes her scythe and bends down, holding out a hand. “There ya go, mate, let's get you back on your feet.”

Gem blinks. “What?”

Pearl tilts her head in confusion. “I'm helping you up. Did you hit your head?”

Gem frowns. “No, I just– why aren't you killing me?” She takes Pearl’s hand anyway.

Pearl raises an eyebrow, pulling Gem to her feet. “Would you have killed me if I lost?” She grins when Gem shakes her head. “Thought so.”

Mumbo peeks out from the tree he hid behind, giving Pearl a little wave. “You don't want to kidnap me anymore?”

Gem groans, grabbing her bloodied sword and wiping it on the grass before sheathing it. “I miscalculated. Thought you were alone and Pearl was the big dog I saw wandering around camp. Turns out, I was wrong.”

Pearl laughs. “Tilly! No, no, she's my lovely puppy.”

“Wolf,” Mumbo corrects quietly, “she's a wolf, Pearl.”

Pearl shrugs, then looks over at Gem. “Well, if you’re gonna stick around, we have some soup I can heat up? You can tell us all about why you’re here, and maybe I’ll be able to give ya somethin’ for your time.”

Gem lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Yeah. Sure. Sure, why not. This day couldn’t get any more crazy, I think.”

Mumbo, who had slowly been inching closer to the two while they were talking, is quick to grab Pearl when she tries to walk and stumbles. “Pearl! Wait, hold on, I’ll help you over, but you have got to sit down after that. I’ll heat up the soup and get you some bandages.”

“Alright, alright…” Pearl slings an arm over Mumbo’s shoulders, and gestures for Gem to follow them. “Oof, that took a lot out of me, actually.” She glances back at Gem. “You’re good. Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

Gem snorts, following them across the camp. “I could ask you the same question. You’re insane.”

Mumbo helps Pearl sit down on the bench. Gem hesitates, then takes the seat across from Pearl, watching as Mumbo grabs a large covered container of soup. “Honestly,” he says, “Pearl’s one of the strongest people I know. Everyone here is, but Pearl and Impulse–” he laughs, putting the container on what looks to be a type of redstone warming gadget– “they’re incredible.”

Pearl giggles. “Aww, Mumbo! You’re too kind, mate.” She closes her eyes and lets out a breath. “You mind gettin’ those bandages? I’m startin’ to feel a little hurt here.”

Gem grimaces. “My bad! You got me good in a few places too, though.”

Pearl nods, giving Gem a bright smile. “Dang right I did! Mumbo, can you get some extra bandages for our new friend here?”

Mumbo nods, bending down to open a different wooden container and pulling out some bandages and a dry towel. “Her name’s Gem, by the way. Introduced herself to me before chasing me down.”

“That’s nice,” Pearl quips, “good to let your victims know who they have the pleasure of bein’ killed by, at the very least.”

Gem blushes. “I wasn’t going to kill him! Honestly! I was just going to bring him back to King Ren, and even then he was probably just gonna be put in jail or something!”

Mumbo sits next to Pearl and begins to dab at the cuts with the towel. “I don’t really want to go to jail?” He hands a roll of bandages and a towel to Gem, who begins to take care of her own wounds.

“We’d break you out,” Pearl assures him, then turns to look at Gem. “Right. This bounty, tell me about it? You said King Ren put it out?”

Gem glances at Mumbo. “Honestly, I think it’d be better hearing it from his side, first. I wasn’t there for the whole reason the bounty was placed.”

Mumbo looks up from where he was wrapping Pearl’s wounds. “Oh! Well, uh, you see. So, I guess, I accidentally blew up one of his labs? I was making something, can’t really remember what it was, and well. Kaboom! Blew it all to smithereens, unfortunately. And because I wasn’t really supposed to be there, they didn’t really have a lot of sympathy for me.” He grabs Pearl’s hand and pulls her other arm up so he can tend to the wounds on it. “So! I ran!”

“Are our things at risk of blowing up, then?” Pearl asks, looking pointedly at the redstone machine that was warming up the soup. Her wings flutter slightly.

Mumbo shrugs. “Probably not. I mean, I’m much more careful now. I don’t use things until I’m like… 99% sure they won’t blow up.”

Gem raises an eyebrow. “That’s a whole 1% of uncertainty.”

Pearl laughs, pulling her arm back once Mumbo finishes bandaging up her cuts. “Better than 2%! I’ll take it.”

Mumbo hands Pearl the roll of bandages and stands up to check on the soup. It must be done, because he carefully takes the container off the heating gadget and grabs some bowls and spoons from yet another wooden container. After rifling through the container for another minute, he pulls out a ladle with a triumphant sound and stands back up. “Soup’s ready!”

Once the soup is ladled into every bowl and placed on the table, Mumbo sits back down. “You alright, Pearl?” he murmurs, to which Pearl nods.

“Just a lil dizzy,” she responds, “but that’s– probably fine. I should get back to bed soon, probably.”

“Eat your soup first, at least.” Mumbo looks up at Gem. “And, well, I guess we should hear your side of this whole thing, huh?”

Gem sighs, taking a sip of her soup before leaning back. “Well, I was looking for another job and yours came up. I figured it’d be pretty easy to grab you and bring you back to the King, and then I’d be set for the next couple months with the reward.” She laughs softly. “To be honest, I didn’t even think I was going to have to fight.”

Mumbo makes a sad noise. “I would’ve fought back!” he protests, “you just startled me!”

“Oh, I’m sure you would’ve!” Gem agrees. “You just would’ve lost.”

Pearl chuckles. “Be nice to Mumbo! He’s a very skilled tactician.” She has some more soup before leaning forward, resting her elbows on the table. “What are your plans now?”

Gem shrugs. “I wasn’t hired for this job, so it doesn’t really matter if I complete it or not. The money would’ve been nice, but my reputation won’t take a blow because of this.” She thinks for a moment, humming softly in contemplation. “Honestly, I might just spend a while up around here to see if any of the nearby villages have jobs for me, if anything. Or I might head to the city to look for more bounties.” She eats some more soup. It’s very good, made with potatoes and bacon and cheese, and it’s slightly spicy nature has her feeling warm despite the cold autumn weather.

“Oh! Speaking of, you’re going to want to keep an eye on this guy–” She gestures at Mumbo– “for a bit, or speak to King Ren about his bounty. Otherwise, some other hunter who isn’t as nice as me might pick up his bounty.”

Mumbo’s eyes widen. “Well. I don’t really want that to happen!”

Pearl nods. “Yeah, that makes sense… I’ll speak with the others when they get back and we’ll see about making a trip there. If that’s okay with you?” She directs the question to Mumbo, who holds up his hands and shakes his head.

“I dunno! Do whatever you think is best, mate. It would be nice to get the bounty off my head so we don’t have to worry about people coming to camp.” Mumbo looks a little downtrodden as he speaks, crossing his arms and looking away. “I mean, look at what happened. You’re hurt, and Grian’s probably going to rip my arm off for it!”

Gem inhales sharply. “I might want to head out then, if you have a friend who’s gonna react like that…”

Pearl laughs. “No, Mumbo’s joking– Grian can’t and won’t do that, not to Mumbo. And even if he wanted to do that to someone, I still don’t think he could.” She finishes her soup and leans against Mumbo. “It might be good for you to skedaddle before everyone gets back, though. We can introduce you at another time, when you haven’t just injured me while I’m ill and supposed to be resting.”

Mumbo chuckles nervously, letting Pearl lean against him. “Yeahhh… I can’t imagine that’ll go down too well with the others. Even if you are friendly now.”

Gem takes the last bite of her soup, and sets her spoon in the bowl. “I can’t imagine it would, I really can’t. Thank you for the soup and bandages, but–”

Before she’s able to finish speaking, Pearl jumps up from the table. “Wait! Hold on, I have something for you.” She takes a few steps away, then turns back and grabs Mumbo’s hand. “Sorry, taking this guy with me– still don’t really trust you. Stay right there!”

Gem waves her hand, slightly confused. “That’s fair! I’ll be here.”

They return after a few minutes, with Pearl holding a few things in her arms. “Right! Here’s a pouch of some gold and iron coins, to cover at least a little of the bounty. And this–” She sets down a piece of parchment on the table– “this is moth mail. It’s a special thing I made a while back. Just write a letter, tap the little sigil drawn on the top corner, and it’ll get to me! You can use that to contact me if you need, or if you’re in the area.”

Gem blinks. “Wow! Oh, gosh, thank you? I gotta know, though, how come you’re being so nice to me? I was going to turn Mumbo over to the King.”

Pearl shrugs. “I mean, you’ve been chill after that, so why hold grudges? Gotta make friends where ya can.” She straightens back up. “Really! Feel free to come back any time, as long as you let me know first. If you don’t, I might assume you’ve come to collect some other bounty we don’t know about and fight you again.”

Gem laughs as she stands up, taking the pouch of coins and parchment paper. “Wouldn’t want that to happen, for sure!” She takes a step back. “Well, thank you both for the kindness… and entertainment, I suppose. This morning was certainly an interesting one.”

Mumbo smiles nervously. “Yeah, I agree. It was nice, uh, meeting you? And not getting kidnapped by you? And not being put in jail. Yeah.”

Gem only laughs louder at that. “Yeah, I’m glad I could contribute to things you’re grateful for.” She takes a breath, looking between Mumbo and Pearl. “Well. I’ll be heading out, then. Thanks for the coin and the paper.”

Pearl leans against Mumbo, who is doing his best to steady her. “No worries, mate! Have fun with… whatever you’re going to do!”

As Gem starts walking back toward the forest, she just barely hears Pearl mumble, “I need to pass out right now,” to Mumbo.

Gem pays the stable manager for taking care of her horse with some of the money Pearl gave her. Honestly, she’s still a little shocked over how the whole ordeal went down, but hey; at least she still got paid.

“And I got some new friends out of it, too,” she tells her horse as she rides off into the forest. “So that’s a plus!”

She isn’t quite sure what she’s going to tell the bartender when she inevitably returns, but she’ll figure something out. For now, she’s good to look for her next bounty– wherever it might be.

#boatem knights au #bkau #pearlescentmoon #mumbo jumbo #geminitay #my writing #hermitfic #cleo's here too

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months ago

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hey !! i saw your batboys headcanon thing ( plus jaime ) about how clingy they would be ,, but do you think you could write a reaction for them ( and jaime if you'd like as well idm ! ) to if they dated someone who wasn't that fond of physical touch / affection ?

like how it would affect the way they show their love and stuff !!

thank you so much, love your works xx

For DAMIAN nothing much would change, after all physical affection isn’t his forte and completely understands why you don’t like it as much, for he certainly didn’t unless it was the occasional heat of the moment type of thing; then he’ll act like he never did hug/ touch you with flustered cheeks.

Damian’s primary love language was acts of services with a minor in gift giving because he always comes to you with a drawing he’s done recently, and practically pushed the piece of paper into your hands where you were greeted with the most beautiful sketch of you in existence. He’s not great with words as he often comes across as blunt or overly sarcastic, but when he’s reprimanding you about appropriately clothing yourself for the weather as he’s adjusting your scarf or whatever, it’s a sweet act disguised as annoyance.

Damian shows his care in a unique way but you could’ve have asked for a better partner.

For JAIME he respects that physical contact may not be your thing and will resort to vocalising his affection and love for you. After all Jaime came from a household of familial love and affection, so he wanted you do something for you where you knew where his mind was most -if not- all the time; on you.

He will shower you and praise you with love no matter what and will not allow a single negative thought to pass through your pretty head, not on his watch and Khaji-Da will gladly offer their own words of affirmation but they come out as more ‘crush your enemies to dust’ or ‘show them that you are far better then those weak willed insects and will not submit to their own self projection.’

You understand where Khaji-Da was coming from, even if it did come across as threatening, but Jaime will always reword it into something more positive and meaningful such as; ‘you’re amazing and I love you, you’re killing it my love!’ Or ‘you already know your worth so why let others people try to determine it for you when you’ve already go what most people want. Heart, passion!’ And so on.

For JASON physical touch was his way of reassuring himself that you weren’t going to leave, that you were alive. So when he found out that physical touch wasn’t your most favouriting thing, he was more than willing to resort to his secondary love language; quality time.

Jason loves spending as much time with you as he can and will do so as a substitute for physical contact out of his love and respect for you and your boundaries. If anything quality time with you also helps in reassuring him that you weren’t going anywhere and that you were alive, even when your both sat in comfortable silence doing your own things, it relaxes Jason’s oftentimes frantic mind and allows him to breath and live in the moment knowing that you were very much safe from all harm in your shared apartment.

For DICK physical affection was his primary love language and he loved letting the people he loved know he was there for them by a few simple touches, it didn’t require him to use his words, despite being quite the flatter for when he did.

So when he noticed that you weren’t exactly reciprocal of his touch, Dick knew he had to switch to his secondary love language which was words of affirmation, which often came out a lot flirtier then it probably should, but Dick was use to doing so just to get on someone’s good side and get them to lower their guard but never towards his adoring partner whom he cares very much for with his whole heart.

Vulnerability, communication and commitment weren’t his strongest suits unfortunately but he tries for you, he truly tries with every sweet word that left his lips to make you recognise that you and a place within his heart, and that’s all that would matter in that moment as he’s looking at you with such caring and loving eyes.

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ff-killjam · 3 months ago

Text

How The Tables Turned [Ford x reader oneshot]

Summary: This time, its Ford making you stop what you're going to make sure you get sleep.

Rating: SFW and very fluffy

Warnings: Aside from a slightly suggestive part, none!

AO3 version

A/N: Actually based on a period of time where I tried to learn how to use unity (before the whole drama of it happened). I refused to do ANYTHING but to work on my little project no matter how much I was starving for a few weeks straight. lol.

It’s basically routine at this point for you to drag Ford out of his lab to head for bed. Even if you remind him of the benefits on sleeping and how the lack of it will impact his work, you still needed to get him into bed, sometimes having some food ready for him to make sure he didn’t sleep on an empty stomach.

That’s how its USUALLY IS.

Lately, you’ve started your own personal project involving learning a game engine to play around with. It was mostly just a random idea one day, wanting to try your hand at making your own little “video game”. Nothing too fancy, just something fun to put together and to learn some new skills along the way. There was A LOT you needed to look into and learn to make this happen, however.

From learning a coding language, the game engine itself, a mix between finding free to use assets and even making your own when nothing suited your taste- you had a lot on your plate. It wasn’t all that bad really, considering how this whole thing turned into a full blown hyper fixation fairly soon after starting it. It was easy to let the hours fly by as you were split between watching tutorial videos, drawing and fixing any errors/bugs in any of the codes you wrote down. You were aware of when you needed to sleep, eat and do other things for your health, but something about working on this project made you refuse to move from your chair. And you weren’t the only one to noticed this.

After a decent amount of time being with you, Ford has grown used to the routine of you coming to his lab to check up on him. It got to the point where he purposely stayed late in the lab to get you to come in and “pester” him to take care of himself better. The feeling of knowing you cared and loved him so much to go out of your way to make sure he knew that was something he relished in. Of course, he did felt a little “silly” and “immature” doing this instead of straight up telling you, but there was no harm being done anyways, so it was fine.

So when you stopped checking on him after a few nights, he couldn’t help but to worry a bit. At first, he figured you were just a bit busy, possibly even out for the night, so he didn’t think too much of it. However, when walking into your computer room and seeing you up staring at your screen with an open notebook with various random things written on it, he couldn’t help to smile a bit as you reminded him of his university days. You were just working on something, nothing too bad.

But as time passed by, he soon realizes he only ever sees you in your computer room. You barely went out for anything, even for food. Ford didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, but he was worried. Things escalated for him when he barely sees you in bed anymore.

It’s not like he didn’t talk to you as you were deep in your work. He would sometimes check in on you when things felt a little too quite after he started to noticed your absent in his lab. Ford was happy you were able to pursue something new and to take the time and effort to do it. He was aware of the little game you wanted to make for the sake of saying “I made this!”. When he had the free time, he’ll listen to you talk about the things you learned, some of the issues you faced and how you fixed them, etc etc. But he can only take so much before he had to really step in for your own sake.

The sky was dark out, and it was around 1am. You weren’t in bed yet. Again. Ford was really concerned for you now. Walking through the dim hallway, he opens up the door of your computer room. He can see you fully concentrated on your screen, looking over some codes you put together, as if you were trying to find any errors in the lines of text that was presented in front of you. It was obvious how dry your eyes were, how your body longed for rest, but the urge to keep going and to fix this one mistake kept you from wanting to sleep despite how much you felt the need to do so.

It was almost funny to him. A taste of his own medicine some would say. It reminds him of the many nights on how he too would refuse to stop for the night, always needing to do one more thing before he could let himself rest. How you would do your best to persuade him to let himself walk away from his work, to take care of himself to avoid any health complications, and to spend time with you in the comfort of your bed.

It made him feel guilty as well. The things you did for him and how much you loved him to always go out of your way to show it. Ford knew he was taking full advantage of that, and he wanted to repay it back.

You jumped a little in your seat when you felt his familiar six finger hand land on your shoulder, being so focused on the lines of text on your screen that you forgot where you were for a good bit. You look over at Ford as he stood beside your seat, giving him a weak smile.

“Oh hey! Do you need anything?” You asked before quickly looking back at the screen again.

“Love, when was the last time you ate?” Ford asked you in a gentle voice.

“Uh… I had breakfast?” You answered, only remembering you had some toast with a sunny side egg on top when you last ate. It didn’t seem like it mattered too much though.

“Its almost one am” Ford replied, a little stern this time. You quickly check the clock on your taskbar, feeling surprised from how much time had passed.

“Oh… oops” you spoke mostly to yourself, feeling a little silly for not checking the time more often. “I’ll probably head to bed soon”

“Not soon,” Ford points out, “you’re going to bed now.” His words made you look at him again, confusion viable on your face.

“Just let me do this one fix-” Ford says your name, stern voice again, causing you to stop your sentence.

“You are fully aware of the effects of not taking care of yourself” Ford spoke to you with a smirk on his face. You knew that he was referencing the many of times where you brought out the facts of how the lack of sleep and self care can affect your health and day to day life. It was the best way to convince him to come to bed and let you cuddle with him until you were both asleep. “You’re no different form me, sweetheart. Got to practice what they preach, as they say”

“Uh…. I’m built different?” You gave a half shrug and a low chuckle at your own joke. Obviously, this did nothing to change his mind. You knew he was right, and had nothing to say to argue back. Ford knew this too. “Fine… let me quickly save and shut off my computer…”

Ford watches you quickly save any progress before shutting off your computer, the light of the screen turning off and making the room dark as it was the only thing on. As you start to stand, your body fully conveyed how tired you really were. You were about to walk to the hallway door before Ford lets out a ‘let me’, and you were now being picked up bridle style in his arms. You let out a small gasp, often forgetting how much muscle the older man has as he often hides it away in his iconic turtleneck. The comfort of him holding you made the realization at your own exhaustion hit hard. You can feel yourself somewhat go limp as Ford carried you to your shared room.

Ford felt you quickly relax in his arms, feeling prideful as he carried you to your bed. Sitting you on the side and pulling the blanket back. He lays you on your pillow before fallowing suit into his usual spot on the bed beside you. Your eyes were shut as you let yourself sink into the soft mattress, the weight of the blanket being pulled over you giving a sense of security, along with how his arms wrapped around you to pull you close to his chest. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel him nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck, getting a few shivers down your spine.

“Sorry…” You mumbled to him, feeling guilty now for making him go out of his way to get you to bed. You feel him chuckle into your skin, the smile forming on his face being easily felt on your skin.

“Nothing to be sorry about sweetheart,” his replied, voice audibly sounding more tired, “I should be the one to apologize, making you go through this almost every night. I see how doing this almost all the time can be a bit frustrating for you.”

“Not if its you,” You were quickly to reply, “I’m always happy to make sure you’re okay”. Ford felt his heart flutter at your words. You always did surprised him with how much you loved him despite how many times you pointed it out.

“The feeling is mutual,” Ford placed a kiss on your skin as he caressed one of his thumbs that rested on you, “lets get to sleep now, I’ll be sure to do something for you in the morning” Ford gave another kiss on your skin, and you can’t help but to feel excited for what he had planned.

Silence followed as you two let yourselves slowly fall asleep in each others comfort. Feeling his steady heartbeat on your back lulled you to your sleep.

Ford smiled when he realized you fell asleep before he did. It was no surprise, you needed it really bad. Without fail every night when he has you in his arms like this, he feels like the luckiest man in the multiverse. He didn’t deserve you, but it was almost as if this is the repayment he deserved after many years of suffering, a way of life saying sorry to him.

And he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

#Gravity Falls x reader #Ford pines x reader #stanford x reader #reader insert #fanfiction #one shot #fluff #Killjam's fic tag

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jacevelaryonswife · 10 months ago

Text

Supermassive Black Hole

A duo project changes some perceptions about your classmate

pairing: Michael Gavey x fem!reader

warnings: smut, period tipical misoginy (2006 guys), loss of virginity, english is not my first language.

word count: 3,297

ewanverse masterlist

When a firm knock came from the door, a name automatically entered your mind.

Gavey.

Michael Gavey.

You imagined that he would come to your meeting eventually, you actually longed to, although you didn't admit it. That idiot deserved to be put in his proper place — which was necessarily below you.

It had all started when a duo project was designated by draw earlier that day, and for both luck and bad luck your partner was the awkward genius, and difficult to deal with Michael Gavey.

There was no shortage of adjectives to be used for the unstable dirty blonde, which was truly fascinating. He intrigued you with his sharp intellect and his eccentric personality to the same extent that he repelled you with his peculiar and almost aggressive way. He was quite a figure, although you didn't allow yourself to think much about it.

It was also not a mystery that he was a true Norman No Mates, which wasn’t difficult to understand since his social skills were disastrous. The memory of him screaming at Oliver Quick in O Week never left your mind, especially the sudden change of attitude when he lowered his head and responded to the sum that Felix's pet (as your friends called him) made. You watched the whole situation closely, with a lot of curiosity, since your tables were close.

After that, whenever he entered an environment, you wondered what he would do next. You never knew what to expect from Gavey.

He started fervent debates during classes, demonstrating unparalleled intelligence and self-confidence, in addition to a slight arrogance that made him look strangely hot. Obviously a dispute of nervous male egos originated from these discussions, which made you watch with veiled fun and irritation while remaining silent. You admired the way his brain worked for math, but you didn't understand how he could be so bad at dealing with other people.

Because of this, you chose to keep a considerable distance from the horizon of events that involved Michael and his complexity, and for a long time this worked perfectly well. Until that damn moment.

Feeling humiliated by the way that insolent worm acted when trying to take responsibility for the whole activity for yourself, as if you were incompetent and incapable, you immediately confronted him about such behavior when he went to your meeting at the end of the class while you collected your material.

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I'll finish this by Saturday, no need to worry," he repeated condescendingly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Do you think I won't participate? Or did you just choose to pretend that I don't exist?" You asked with your eyebrows furrowed, posture becoming more imposing.

He remained silent for a short moment, seeming to analyze the situation (or the best answer to it, you couldn't tell). He wasn't used to being so reluctant to say what he thought, so it was a surprise to see him using time to devise something.

"I don't like working in group, I thought it would be faster if I did everything," he looked down quickly, running away from your gaze.

"I also don't like working with other people and I didn't even think about excluding you," you replied.

“Of course you don't.” There it was. The veiled arrogance that you so hated, present in most of your classmates.

Few were your STEM classmates, since your class was mostly composed of resentful boys who did not know how to deal with a woman without seeing her as a less intelligent object. Luckily not everyone was like that and you managed to put together a really cool group.

When all you did was send a cold and angry look, Michael cleared his throat and tried to speak again, but you cut him off impatiently. "When you're less asshole look for me again, I think you have my Myspace."

Who did that little shit think it was to treat you like that? 'Of course you don't' He was so fucking pretentious! And that's because he almost couldn't keep eye contact for a long time.

Pathetic.

That skinny nerd tormented your thoughts for the rest of the afternoon and served as gossip between your friends. Predictable. The way he acted was not very different from what you imagined about his annoying self-sufficiency. And even so, there he was, stopping in front of your door (more nerdy than ever) with his laptop and notebook in hand, wearing a blue button striped shirt, black belt and cream pants. He had a terrible taste in clothes, although they totally reflected his personality, he was curious.

“I'd like to apologize for my behavior earlier, it wasn't cool,” he started as soon as you leaned carelessly against the door.

Interesting.

You considered it for a moment, looking at him before turning his back and clearing the way for him to enter your space. "It wasn't that hard, was it?" You pulled a chair for him and threw yourself dramatically on the bed before sitting down to face him, already well established and looking closely at your figure. "So... I assume you've already thought about the structure of the project."

Of course he had thought.

He opened the laptop and exposed his idea while showing some calculations in his notebook, and you made an effort to pay attention to what was said and what was sketched. Obviously his idea was good, great actually, incredibly structured and cohesive with what the professor wanted. But you also had some ideas and would like them to be taken into account, telling you what you had planned. Surprisingly, he showed to consider your suggestions, even praising them — you knew they were good, but not that his ego allowed you to visualize this. You suggested a division of parts that would be meticulously checked in a future meeting.

"As you have already started, I thought about staying with the second part, what do you think?" You asked.

"It's okay, I intend to finish tomorrow maybe, I'll forward some references by email to you."

“Sure.” It was all very bureaucratic and direct. You sneaked up to look at his laptop screen before looking at what he was typing. "I have some of these books here, but I'll look for the others."

And without realizing it, you got into a big problem.

The freshness that radiated from him flooded your senses gradually, looking too long at his neck and jaw...

He had such beautiful features and aquiline dirty blonde hair that it looked so soft. And those hands... those long fingers... no, no, no and no. You (your body) couldn't be heating up to Michael Gavey.

But it's been a while since some fun... and you were at a suggestive time of the month. Maybe... just maybe... It wasn't a bad idea. As you returned to sitting on the bed, specifically next to where his chair was, you analyzed him as he typed the references in the email. He was not bad looking, no, quite the opposite in fact.

He was handsome, really handsome. And you wanted him. You wanted Michael Gavey.

You wanted to fuck him.

Fuck that attitude.

But how? How would you approach that nervous nerd?

Your mind struggled to develop an effective approach. You didn't want to waste time, not with the heat that spread high between your legs. You just waited for him to send the damn email and close the laptop. "Do you want anything to drink?"

“I'm good. I think we ended up here, I'll try to finish my part quickly," he looked at the notebook that was on the pillow, which you anticipated to pick up and deliver it, standing up in a false farewell.

"Sure," and as soon as Michael got up with the notebook and laptop, you held his arms, gently removing the objects while placing them on your study table. "But I don't think you should go now," you used without a more seductive tone while holding his shoulders.

"What are you doing?" He asked still, tense, looking directly into your eyes.

“Are you dating someone?” You asked softly, getting closer, leaning your breasts against his chest.

"No, I'm not," he answered the obvious, but you wanted to hear the obvious with all the lyrics.

Stretching a short distance from his lips, you asked: "So can I kiss you?"

That same look seen earlier was present again, as if his mind worked hard to find a solution to the problem presented. His mouth opened minimally when he took a deep breath, this time his gaze fell on your lips. "Why do you want to kiss me?"

"Because I fucking want it."

And then you collided your lips with his in a demanding kiss that took a long time to be reciprocated, but when it was... oh boy. Michael held your waist and tried to keep up with your rhythm. He wasn’t so experienced, but his lips were soft and pleasant against yours, kissing you with so much enthusiasm that it made you dizzy.

It made you both dizzy.

He couldn't believe was happening — and that it was happening to you. You... gorgeous, sexy and intelligent. You with a nice and phenomenal ass, who he believed would never look at him twice. You, who kissed him on the tongue and moved his hands to your chest and ass and smoothed the back of his neck and massaged his shoulder. He'd never been kissed like that before. Had never touched a girl like that.

What the fuck was going on?

With the deepening of the kiss you felt a hardness to press against your belly, inhibiting a conscious smile while Michael struggled between apologizing or pretending that it was not happening. Fortunately, you didn't intend to let that be ignored. Your hand slid from the nape of his neck until it reached the increasing bulge, gently squeezing over his pants, making him moan against your lips. You squeezed again before breaking the kiss.

"I don’t wanna just kiss tonight."

Fuck. He couldn't believe what was going on.

He felt that he would cum right there if your hand kept rubbing his cock.

"Are you sure?" He asked uncertainty, still not convinced that you really wanted him that way. It was so fucking sudden, one minute he was collecting his things to leave and the next he was kissing you.

"All the certainty in the world, and you?" You sang against his lips.

"I-" that would be fucking embarrassing, you would laugh at him, "I want to but- I never-"

Oh. It wasn’t different from what you expected.

"It's okay, seriously, there's no reason to worry about it."

“... are you fucking me or something?” He asked weakly, looking at your beautiful face with lust, seriousness and insecurity. You've never seen him so vulnerable.

"Of course not, I want you Michael, I want that, but if you feel you're not comfortable we don't n-"

"I want that."

“Are you sure?”

“I'm fucking sure.”

He felt a chain of confidence run through his body and leaned over to kiss you. You wasted no time unbuttoning his shirt, groping his newly exposed soft torso. Michael almost sighed when receiving your soft touch, pulling the blouse out of your body and coming across exposed and already hardened breasts.

Fuck.

He almost moaned. They were the first tits he saw in person, it was more than exciting. He held them immediately, massaging, squeezing, experiencing...

"Not like that," you held his hands gently.

"Sorry, I never-"

“It's okay.”

Your hands landed on the belt and unbuttoned it, continuing to unbutton the pants that were urgently removed by him while you discarded your own and hovered only in panties, watching him get rid of the shoes as well. Michael had little time to get used to your half-naked figure, since with a mischievous smile, you slowly lowered your panties and left it accumulated on the floor. He felt his neck and face burn and cock pulse with your vision, contemplating for too long.

You touched him over his black underwear, feeling him hard and big, making him moan.

"I won't last long if you keep fucking touching me like that," he took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

"So why haven't you taken that off yet?" You shook his head, teasing him, watching him almost tear off his underwear and show off his cock in all splendor. He was packing, bigger than you expected, all pink, beautiful and anxious. “You have such a nice body,” you kissed him lazily, anticipation thrumming through you.

Michael felt himself in the clouds with your body pressed to his without any layer of fabric, but a big wave of anxiety hit him when you walked away to get a condom before gently guiding him to bed. “Relax, let me take control,” no foreplay would be necessary when you were already wet enough to receive it. "Take a deep breath and calm down, it's quite intense, try to be distracted by something else," you adjusted the condom to its length and saw it almost shake. That boy wouldn't last a minute.

He followed your instructions and concentrated as much as possible not to cum fast, holding firmly on your hips but nothing prepared him for your wet and hot folds.

Fuck, not even the best handjobs compare to your tight pussy going down on his cock. He moaned loudly when you rested against his groin, staring at where your bodies connected.

You bit your lips and closed your eyes, feeling deliciously full. He was bigger than average and had a delicious thickness that you would love to squeeze on your walls just to see him have a spasm, but I knew it would be too much for the beginning.

"When you want me to move, just say it."

Oh no, no! He was sure he would end up there even if you moved. "Don't move yet," he replied quickly, "Fuck," he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

It was terribly satisfying to see him all vulnerable and red, without the usual arrogance and weirdness, and even better to have him inside you (albeit for a short time presumably). He thought about all the things he heard about sex all his life in those long seconds, filtering out what seemed more credible and useful. Think of something less sexy. It was fucking hard.

“Move.”

“Enjoy baby,” you slid gently up, resting your hands on his chest as you started an experimental and slow rhythm. “Mmm.”

So damn good.

Your juices made the movements easy and smooth, leaving him breathless whenever he was balls deep. The friction generated by the constancy of the movements made you two moan and the tightness on your waist increased. He was a fucking vision with disheveled hair, half-open mouth and crooked glasses, all docile while he was fucked dumb. The feeling of power over such an intelligent man was as exciting as sex, causing a presumptuous smile on your lips when you leaned over to kiss his milky neck, rubbing your body against his.

“Are you enjoying it?” You purred against his skin, kissing him superficially on the lips.

He was in the fucking clouds. And you knew that. Little shit.

He wrapped your body to move his hips against yours. He couldn't hold it anymore, he needed to cum. "I won't last long."

“It's okay, baby.”

Your tits jumped when you started riding it hard at a terrifying pace. He closed his eyes and felt his balls weigh every time you sat on his cock, holding your waist, your tits, your ass, everything you could while you allowed it.

"Fuck- I'm-" he moaned loudly and released his load on the condom, feeling a mind-blowing pleasure that paralyzed his senses and one pulled into a supermassive black hole. A thin layer of sweat covered his body, illuminating the reddish tone that covered it.

So beautiful.

Coming out of the top, you lay comfortably next to him, supporting a part of your peso on his chest while watching him struggling to stabilize his breathing. He still couldn't believe that it had finally happened, and especially with a girl like you.

“Are you here?” You asked after a while with a fun smile, although warm between his legs. He didn't know if he was, but he replied with a panting 'yes'. "Well, because we're not done yet."

What?

“What?” He asked.

“Sex is a two-way street baby, and I haven't come yet,” you purred softly against his ear, biting the lobe.

"I don't know when I'm going to get hard again," he confessed. Well, his brain was working again.

"You don't have these long fingers for nothing, Michael, and if you want it again you'll fuck me with them."

As much as he was affected by a sudden one, his sharp senses were awakened in the implication of a next time. He faithfully believed that hard work would lead him to maximum success in his life, he could not imagine otherwise in this situation. "How should I do that?"

You purred, taking his right hand and guiding it to your wet center. "Always start here if you want to make a girl cum," you circled your bud with his fingers, enjoying the delicious feeling, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Start with one finger, then add another."

He followed your instructions firmly, sticking a long finger and pumping slowly. "Not so slow," you bit your lower lip, somewhat impatiently waiting for the development of a slow orgasm. You needed to cum hard. Taking his hand, you held your middle finger and attached it to your index finger. “Faster.”

And although inexperienced and a little strong sometimes, his fingers felt fucking good on your walls, reaching the sweet point that made your feet's fingers curl. “Keep going, mm.”

"Can I kiss you?"

“Yes.”

Michael collided his lips on yours in a kiss full of tongue and teeth, staying on top while he fucked you with his fingers. He was hypnotized by the sounds you were making, by the warmth of your body, by the taste of your mouth...

“I'm close!”

You couldn't believe that that sleeky nerd of all people was giving you such pleasure.

Michael got up abruptly and used the hand that held his weight to circle your clitoris, making your eyes close with the construction of an abrasive orgasm. He pumped faster, watching your body squirm and your back arch.

“Michael- I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a hot pleasure flooded your senses, holding the sheets and closing your legs with the strong spasms.

It was the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. And he did that. He made you cum. Michael was still very stunned with everything that happened, watching your figure before being pulled to lie next to you. You rested your head on his chest with a satisfied and tired smile, giving light kisses on his skin, relaxed with the post-orgasm fog.

“Did you like it?” You asked to break the ice.

"You've already asked better questions," he joked with a hoarse laugh, "Of course I fucking liked it."

“Mmm, I like to make sure,” you replied, facing his beautiful blue eyes behind the slightly blurred lenses.

Having your body so close (and with everything that happened) Michael felt his cock contract and a new electric current run through his body. "So there's going to be a next time?"

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taglists

general: @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @kravitzwhore @partypoison00

ewanverse: @aemonds-fire @partypoison00 @schniiipsel @fan-goddess @arcielee

═════════════════════

thank you smm @solisarium for the help with this ❤��

#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x fem!reader #smut #saltburn #ewan mitchell #ewanverse

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k4marina · 1 year ago

Text

— Prologue: Dragonstone|| Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a trip to Dragonstone goes a little wrong, or does it?

game of thrones x modern!reader

4.5k+ word count

sereis masterlist || next part

"Why are we doing this during the hottest day of the year, again?" Daeron mutters, using the brochure that was given to us at the beginning of the tour as a fan.

If I could, I would've replied, but the heat was also getting to me, draining away my energy. And, on top of the scorching heat, I'd just finished the last of my water. I pursed my lips together, the line wasn’t that long and I’m sure I can buy another overpriced water bottle after we visited the caves.

The group tour guide turned back to us, just as exhausted, and somewhat bashful. He said something, but I couldn't be bothered with it as I was too focused to not tip over from the heat. It was probably something like “only a few more minutes and we’ll be outta the heat, folks,” with an awkward smile or something.

The line to the caves under the castles was stupidly long, but it's no surprise. So much history was in those caves and so many mysteries had come full circle there. And, the deeper they dug, the more they uncovered the history of the Targaryens that lived there from when Aenar Targaryen moved his entire family to Dragonstone after his daughter, Daenys “the Dreamer” dreamed of the Doom of Valyria.

"Who's idea was it to come here for our research trip?" I didn't bother looking over at him, knowing that I'd be blinded by the sun that shone directly behind his big head.

“Shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache.” I quipped. “Besides, almost everything on this island is connected to the Targaryens. It might come useful when we have to write our research paper.”

The line moved up until our group was at the front of the line. A small group of students, along with Daeron and I, were on Dragonstone for our research projects. Some of the other students had decided to stay in Kings Landing or go to other parts of Westeros for their research.

Everyone was to spend a week in their respective areas and gather all the information they needed before heading back to Kings Landing to write and then later present their topics. Some chose to do it themselves whilst others, like us, decided to go with someone else.

Today was the first day of our stay on Dragonstone. Daeron and I had decided to check out the caves and the island's beaches before we would explore the labyrinth-like castle.

I rubbed the side of my head, feeling a headache approaching. My hand reached up to my necklace that rested on my chest. The chain was long enough for it to hang in the dip of my breast.

Not only did I come here for my project, but also for me. The necklace around my neck has been in my family for generations, but no one knows from where. It’s made entirely of Valyrian Steel, which was rare back in the day, and even rarer now.

As a child, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I grew older and more curious that I started asking questions. First to my family, but all I got was even more confusing answers that led me nowhere. Then I turned towards the internet, scouring for hours until I had found it.

On the official Dragonstone website, I found pictures of the caves under the castle and possibly under the entire island. On one of the walls was a crude hand drawing of my necklace. Two dragons around a sword with a ruby in the middle –though, the ruby was replaced with a red dot. Regardless, the cave painting matched.

The line moved up and Daeron gently pushed me up while I was lost in my thoughts. “You good?” He asks. I nod, “Yeah. The heat’s just a lot.” He gives an understanding look. Once the tour guide is given the green light, he begins to lead up to the entrance of the cave.

"Ready?" Daeron asks. I nodded and we begin walking. Once we entered the cave, my jaw was on the floor. I had seen pictures of the caves, but seeing it in real life was far more beautiful.

The deeper we got we could see the cave paintings done by the Children of the Forest which Daenerys and Jon had found. As the guide droned on about the cave paintings, I could feel my headache intensify. Why was it so hot in here?

The deeper and deeper we went into the caves, the worse it got. My chest started to feel heavy. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The back of my throat burned and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed forward.

My eyes raked the the cave walls, Where was it? Finally, I was able to see it. The markings were next to a few unknown ones. A sign with some information was hung up next to it. Despite my head pounding I was still able to read the bold words.

Unknown markings made by who researchers believe are the Targaryens. The paint used seemed to be as old as when Aenar Targaryen moved his family to Dragonstone.

By the time I finished reading, I could feel my head pounding so loudly in my ear. It felt like an ice pick was being hammered into the side of my head. I could hear muffled voices call out, but to who I didn’t know. The room started to spin and a ringing sound filled my ears.

A hand, most likely Derons, reached out and turned me around. I could see his mouth moving, but no words coming out. My chest felt like it was overheating while my head continued to throb. Everything turned blurry and then it went black.

When I woke up, I was still in the cave. The cold stone floor had helped with bringing my body temperature down. And, my head didn't hurt anymore. After getting up, I looked around the cave. It was darker, and quiet.

Where was everyone?

Carefully, I made my way out of the cave. It was harder to walk out of the cave and the spotlights that were on the walls weren’t on. Once I was outside I was met with the night sky.

All the tents and other buildings around the beach were gone, as if they'd never been there.

Okay, this is weird.

"Hello?" My voice came out horse like I hadn’t spoken in a long time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Daeron?"

My feet moved on their own and I tried to find someone, anyone. But there was no one. How could a populated area with tents and buildings disappear within hours?

Retracing my steps, I found the stairs that would lead me back to the Help Center that were posted around for lost tourists, but like the beach, there was nothing. Matter a fact, even the lamppost that were posted into the ground, the banners, the signs –everything was gone.

"What the actual fuck?" Panic creeped up and I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. "Gods, If this is some kinda sick fucking joke..."

At this point, I was running towards the castle. For what? I didn't know, but surely there had to be something there. The grand doors seemed to be closed so I tried to find another way in. I guess you could say I found something like a side door that took a little force to open.

The inside of the castle was grand. High walls, banners held high, candles and lamps lit all around. Truly, it was amazing. As I was gawking at the architecture I failed to notice unknown voices walking towards me.

“Halt!” Two unknown men dressed in what looked like armor cornered me, pointing their spears at me. “State your name! Who are you?”

I stuttered out my name, raising my hands up so they could see I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear.”

The two men shared a look and a few hushed words before one of them walked over to me, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me along.

“Ow!” I tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong. “What the fuck dude. I said I wasn’t a threat.”

“Khaleesi will decide if you are or are not a threat.” The man who wasn’t holding onto me said.

Khaleesi? What Khaleesi?

“Oh please don’t tell me I just walked into those real-life roleplaying things.” I groaned, earning side eyes from both of the men.

They led me down a series of hall ways, each one intricate as the other until we stood outside of a set of polished stone double doors. Another pair of men dressed just like the cosplayers that brought me here stood in front of the doors. Without having to say any words they opened the grand doors.

Slowly, I could see the inside being revealed.

There, on the elevated platform stood the Throne of Dragonstone, where all the Targaryen heirs of the Iron Throne sat as they took the title “Prince of Dragonstone.” A light push brought me back as I was dragged closer to the throne.

“Khaleesi,” the guard called out. Before I could ask who they were speaking to, an unknown voice answered.

“What is it?”

Light footsteps were heard from behind a wall and a woman emerged from behind it. Except it wasn’t just any woman. Even a child would know who she was. Everyone around the world knows her.

She was Daenerys Targaryen.

Mother of Dragons.

The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

The Unburnt.

The Breaker of Chains.

I could feel time slow down as I watched her walk over to the throne and sit down. My blood turned cold as she sat in front of me.

No.

She’s dead.

This can’t be happening.

It’s not possible.

It’s not. I have better chances of reviving dragons than traveling back in time-

“What is this?” Daenerys eyed me, confused at my appearance and why I was even here before looking at the two men.

“We found this unknown woman wandering around the castle, Your Grace.”

She eyed me, as if wanting me to plead my case, but the words died in my throat. Why wouldn’t they when Daenerys fucking Targaryen was right in front of me. A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t rack my brain to find one answer.

Daenerys squinted before speaking again, this time directly towards me. “Who are you?” The High Valyrian rolled easily off of her tongue like a true Targaryen. Those three words held so much power and conviction, like a true Queen.

“Y/n Vellarys!…” I rushed to reply in Valyrian.

“You speak good Valyrian.” She praises, but it's quickly pushed away. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

What should I do? I bit my bottom lip as nervousness filled my body.

Knowing that if I lie, I’ll be fileted, I took a deep breath before responding. “I don't know. I.. I,” I paused, not knowing if I should continue. If this was real then I only wanted her to know, “Can we be alone.. please?”

The two men besides me visibly tense up, but don’t speak up. Daenerys looks down at us, seemingly in thought before she nodded. The two men bow before turning around to leave. The double doors closed with a loud thud.

“We’re alone now, you may continue.”

I nervously swallowed. Here we go. “This might sound weird, but.. I don’t know how I got here. I.. I woke up in the caves under the castle… alone.”

Daenerys’ face stayed neutral as I relayed the information. She seemed to take some time to process what I had just said. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

I could feel my heart fall all the way down. Fuck.

“You woke up in the caves alone?” She repeats. “Not even a child would come up with such a stupid story like this.”

“N-n-no, Daener- I mean, Your Grace. I swear to the Gods that I’m telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. Especially when you could get rid of me with your dragons in a second.”

She seemed to mull over my words, as if weighing her options. “Alright, let's say you’re telling the truth. Your story still doesn’t make sense. How do you just “wake up” in a cave?”

Now or never, I guess.

“Actually,” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not from here. I come from-” The future. Fucking hell, how cliché. “-I come from a different… time.”

Daenerys squinted and I could see the clogs in her brain moving. “You mean you’re from the future?”

Jeez. Ripped the bandage right off.

“Well –uh, yes,” I say. “I was touring the caves and then I –I fell unconscious or something, I still don’t know, I just know that when I woke up I ended up here.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. What if this was just a dream and that all of this is just my imagination running wild.

“That necklace.”

Huh? What is she talking about?

I looked up, confused. “What?”

She pointed towards my chest. I looked down and I could see my necklace was out. “What about it?” I asked.

“Where did you get it?”

“It’s mine.” I replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. Why?”

Now it was Daenerys’ turn to look a little nervous.

“I’ve seen it in my dream.”

“Your dream? Like, one of those Dragon Dreams?” I ask. She gives a nod, “While we were sailing to Dragonstone I had a dream of a woman with silver hair and that necklace. Because I couldn’t see her face, I thought it was me. I’ve turned the treasury over looking for them; however, it seems that I dreamt of you.”

Ho-ly Fuck. Daenerys’ dreamt about me. What the hell. I’m about to throw up.

“What?” Now it was my time to be skeptical of what was being said. “You dreamt about me and my necklace?”

She nodded. “It seems odd, but a Dragon Dream has never been wrong.”

“Ture, but that still leaves a lot of blanks.” My hand subconsciously went up to hold my necklace while I tried to think back.

The deeper I walked into the cave the more my head started to hurt, but that was most likely because of dehydration… probably. But then there was a burning feeling on my chest when I looked at the symbol on the wall that matched my necklace and the burning feeling got even more intense and it felt like it was about to burn my skin-

“Fuck.” I groaned, letting go of the necklace. The outburst made Daenerys frown, “Are you alright?”

I looked down at my hands and at my necklace before looking into her eyes. “I think my necklace tried to burn me, like last time.”

“Last time?” She frowned. “How can a necklace burn someone?”

“I don’t know. It happened before I passed out in the cave.” I let out a sigh. “Gods, what is going on.”

“It seems that this was the God's doing,” Daenerys says, as if it was a fact. “They’ve brought you here.”

“The Gods?” I repeat. Sure, in some sense they did bring me here. “But why?”

“That may be something for you to find out.” Daenerys stood from the throne, walking down the steps until she was right in front of me. “I was lost once, but then the Gods gifted me my children to show me my true purpose.”

“The Iron Throne.” I thought back to my history classes where I learned that for the fight for the Iron Throne, Daenerys lost her life as she fell into what historians said was “Targaryen Madness,” but I’ve always felt that there’s more to it.

“It’s late, I’ll have the servants bring you to a spare room for you to rest in for the night.” As if on cue, the guards from before stepped up to us. “We can talk further tomorrow morning.”

Daenerys turned to leave from where she came from. The guards bowed as she left. Once she was gone they brought me to a spare room somewhere in the castle, this time without having to pull me around.

The hallways were nearly empty, meaning there weren’t a lot of people living here or servants working in the castle. The most I’d seen was guards posted around. Once we were in front of two thick double doors the guards stepped back waiting for me to open them.

It took a little force to open the door, but once I was inside, my jaw was on the floor. Despite everything being made of stone, the walls were covered in rich tapestry. There was a giant bed with lavish looking furs laid atop the bed and maroon bed sheets.

Behind me, a servant walked in with a few sets of clothes and laid them on the bed. “We’ve prepared you some clothes,” she said. “Would you like to change now or take a bath?”

As if on cue, I could feel how dirty I was since I was practically on the cave floors for Gods knows how long.

“A bath would be fine, thank you,” I replied. It honestly felt weird watching servants work. Not that it was bad, just the fact that in the modern day you don’t have them. Sure maybe someone who cleans your home or makes you food, but servants?

Once they had pulled out the massive tub and manually poured in the hot water they led me to the tub. One of their hands went up to my shirt's edge and the other to my pants.

“W-wait!” They all looked at me confused.

“Is everything alright, My Lady?” One of the servants asked.

No it’s not. You’re taking my clothes off. And sure, it’s your job to do practically everything for a highborn, but that ain’t me.

“Uh, there’s no need for… all of this. I can do it myself.”

“Are you sure?” Another girl asked. “It’s our duty to serve you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” I replied awkwardly. “Just not really used to all of… this. Um, anyways I can take it from here. You guys can go…”

I internally cringed at my words. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, but could you blame me?

The girls reluctantly agreed, leaving me alone in the room. Once they were gone I let out a sigh and began to undress myself. The water was hot, but it was fine since I practically liked showering in lava every morning.

Settling into the tub I finally relaxed. This entire thing was just so… bizarre. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream, but that searing pain I felt wasn’t something I could just imagine.

My necklace burned me.

And it burned me when I first saw the markings on the cave walls. I looked down at my chest and hand, but saw nothing.

Okay, weird.

That aside, why was I even brought here? Why me? What do I have that made me so special that I had to be flung into this era of time?

“Think, y/n, think,” I muttered to myself. The dream. Daenerys’ dream about the necklace. But wait, no history books said anything about her having a dragon dream. Could this maybe be connected?

For the next hour, I mulled over my options while I soaked in the tub that had turned lukewarm. Having enough, I got up and grabbed the towels that the servants had thankfully set close for me.

The clothes that they had laid out for me were a bunch of nightgowns. Thankfully, they were my size. I decided to wear a simple white nightgown.

Laying under the mountain of covers and blankets, I finally let myself completely relax, falling asleep. Hopefully tomorrow’s discussions can help this situation get better or at least easier.

I woke up to the sun glaring down into my face. Groaning, I turned to my side, hoping to get some more sleep. But the damage was done.

I could hear light shuffling in the room and things being moved around. When I opened my eyes, I was nearly flash-banged. All the windows (that are floor to ceiling length) were opened and the curtains were drawn back.

A few servants from last night and a few new faces worked around the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, catching the attention of one of the girls.

“Good morning, My Lady. Did you sleep well?”

“Morning,” my voice came out a little low and rough. “What’s going on?”

“We’re getting you ready for the day,” the girl replies, matter of factly. “You will be having your morning meal with the Queen. We’ve already drawn you a fresh new bath and arranged a new set of clothes.”

I looked at where the tub was last night, nothing that was gone, along with my clothes.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked.

“We’ve sent them to get washed,” the servant replied. “My Lady, if i may…”

I nodded for her to go on. “We’ve never seen such clothes like yours before. They remind us of what the men wear however, yours are a bit more.. different.”

“Oh, that. They’re just something that I made.” I lied. Thinking back to last night, I’m confused I didn’t get as many weird looks as I should have wearing my jeans and shirt. It's not really the typical Westerosi fashion for this time.

“The bath is ready.” Another girl says.

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, following them to another room adjacent to this one. The room was a massive bathroom that could function as a bathhouse.

There was a massive tub nestled into the floor. The windows were also huge but a little higher up, letting in some natural light. I could tell the water was hot just by how much it was steaming.

Carefully, the servants began to undress me. They led me into the water and began adding what I can only assume are oils and salts. Truthfully, it felt like I was at some fancy spa with how they washed my body and hair.

Once that was done, they helped me into a beautiful white dress with a dark teal and gold design. I felt like a model wearing such a beautiful dress. I let my hair down, not wanting it in any style (or knowing any styles of this period).

A servant walked me to the dining room where Daenerys was waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress with her hair braided and her three headed dragon pin.

“Good Morning,” she greeted.

“Morning uh, Your grace.” I replied. “Sorry, I’ve never called anyone “your grace” before.”

She brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat next to her at the table where the food was already prepared.

“How did you sleep?” She asks, beginning to eat.

“Fine, surprisingly.” I reached down to grab a fork for my food. “How about you?”

Was I really making small talk with Daenerys Targaryen?

“Mine as well,” she smiled. “I was hoping we could talk a little before I had to go meet my small council.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” I wanted to smack myself. Every time I spoke it was full of nerves and anxiety.

“Let’s start with you. Your name and where you’re from.” Daenerys says confidently. “Judging by your looks, you’re of Valyrian descent.” She says, eyeing my silver hair.

“Yes,” I nodded. “My family moved from Volantis to the Eyrie. My family is known to be of the Old Blood in Volantis.”

“The Old Blood?” Daenerys says, surprised.

The Old Blood are a group of people in Volantis that have proven to be the last remaining families of Valyria. They live in a perched area of the city that only they can walk. All the families in that area still continue their Valyrian traditions and practices, just minus the dragons.

I nodded, “My father is the youngest of four sons, so he thought ‘why not move to westeros and start something there?’ knowing that he wouldn’t have to really carry on the family name.”

“And your family name is Vellarys?” She recalled from last night.

“Yes. We’re known for our jewelry making in Volantis. That’s why my father moved to Westeros, to open a shop there without having to take over the business and stress like his older brother.

“As for myself, I have two older brothers. One is working to be a doctor,” Daenerys frowned at that, confused, “uh, it’s like a Maester. The other is helping my father run the shop.”

“And what about yourself?”

“I’m in school. I go to the University of Kings Landing.”

“The.. University of… Kings Landing?”

“Well, after the monarchy was sorta let go, they turned certain parts of the Red Keep and other castles into Universites -places to go for higher studies, like the.. Citadel for example.”

Daenerys nods, understanding some of it.

“I study the era of The Game of Thrones as well as Targaryen History.”

“The Game of Thrones?” She repeats. “What is that?”

“It’s, uh, what we call this time period. It ranged from the death of King Robert to,” the death of Daenerys Targaryen, “to now, and a little later. We look into how the events after Robert’s death played out and how people fought for the Iron Throne.”

“Like a game.” She says.

I nodded. “Yes, like a game. There’s this quote that Cersie Lannister said to Ned Stark that summed it up, “When you play the game of thrones, You win or you die,”.”

“I see,” Daenerys looks down at her plate in thought. “And what about me?”

Oh fuck.

“What about you?” I say, acting innocent.

“What happened to me?”

I purse my lips together. Should I say it? I mean, it’s a good segway to what I want to really say… if this part goes well.

“You…” I nervously swallowed. “You die… before you could even claim the throne.”

The fork in her hand hits the ceramic plate with a loud clunk.

“What?”

Nervously, I looked into her. “You were killed… after you burned Kings Landing to ashes.”

She frowned. “You're lying. I would never do such a thing. Me? Burning down Kings Landing?

And the Red Keep, but I’ll keep that to myself.

“I’m not lying, Daenerys. After you died, Drogon picked you up and flew you away. We still haven’t found your or his body.”

Daenerys' hands started to shake at the information I had just thrown at her. Carefully, I placed mine over hers.

“Daenerys,” I said softly. “Breath. You’re fine, nothing has happened so far.”

Slowly, I could feel her hands stop shaking and her breathing seemed to steady.

“What do you mean so far?”

I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze although, I can’t tell if it was for me or her.

“Meaning, I can help you.”

She looks at me, puzzled.

“Daenerys, I can help you take the Iron Throne.”

okayyyy so it's finally here after many rewrites. let me know if you guys liked the first person POV. its my first time writing it like this, typically i do second POV. more to come in later chapters. also, i will be changing a few things, nothing major. one personal head cannon that i have is that jon isn't really named aegon, but jaehaerys. makes a lil more sense in my brain. also, i'll maybe be using some info from the books. and if you guys have any suggestions with y/n's character and other stuff please feel free to let me know. don't worry there will be more story and character development in the coming chapters.

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deezee112 · 1 month ago

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The child Doll

Chapter 2

Yandere!Twisted Wonderland x GN!Reader

A/N : I got inspired by @kansetsu001 on Twitter while I was reading the pictures he used to draw. I got this idea. But this is just something I thought of for fun. I hope you like my little idea.

Warning : This story contains themes of psychological tension , unease , an unsettling relationship dynamic between a protagonist and a mysterious humanoid object , y/n is a hot-tempered and tall person.

English is not my first language.

you sighed, pinching the bridge of you nose as the clock ticked past 6:00 PM. The office, dimly lit and mostly deserted, hummed faintly with the sound of ancient computers and the distant clicking of a few remaining coworkers' keyboards. You leaned back in you chair, you frown deepening.

Four years working under Dire Crowley had conditioned you to expect little in the way of fairness and less in the way of sanity. He was a man who thrived on chaos, throwing his subordinates into bizarre, ill-defined projects while swooping in at the last minute to claim the credit—or shift the blame.

" Y/N, can you come to my office? " his voice crackled over the intercom, interrupting you train of thought.

you rolled you eyes, muttering, "What now?" before dragging youself to you feet. you tall, imposing figure and perpetually frowning face had earned you a reputation as someone you didn’t mess with. Yet, despite you intimidating demeanor, you prided herself on efficiency and pragmatism—qualities Crowley never seemed to value.

The walk to his office felt unnecessarily long. you wasn’t in the mood for whatever nonsense he’d concocted this time, but you curiosity was piqued when you noticed the odd stillness in the air. Normally, Crowley’s office was a hub of noise—papers rustling, phones ringing, his voice booming with unwarranted confidence. Today, it was eerily quiet.

Pushing open the door, you found Crowley seated at his desk, a smug smile plastered across his face. Beside him stood a large, ornate box.

“ Ah, Y/N! My most reliable employee! ” he exclaimed, clapping his hands together.

You raised an eyebrow. “ What’s this about? ”

Crowley gestured theatrically toward the box. “ I have a very special task for you. One that requires someone of your… unique disposition. ”

You crossed her arms. “ Get to the point, Crowley. ”

His smile widened as he lifted the lid of the box, revealing what appeared to be a doll. But it wasn’t like any doll you had ever seen. It was life-sized, with eerily realistic features—soft skin, glassy eyes that seemed to follow you every movement, and hair that looked and felt disturbingly real.

“ What the hell is that? ” you asked, you with suspicion.

“ This, my dear Y/N, is a revolutionary creation! A child doll unlike any other. It’s capable of eating, sleeping, and reacting just like a real human child. And you, lucky you, have been chosen to take care of it! ”

You stared at him, incredulous. “ You’ve got to be kidding me. ”

“ I assure you, this is no joke. It’s an important project! Top secret! And who better to handle it than my most dedicated employee? ”

“ Dedicated or expendable? ” you shot back.

Crowley chuckled nervously. “ Oh, don’t be so dramatic. This is a marvelous opportunity! Think of it as…..fostering innovation! ”

You narrowed her eyes at him. “ What’s the catch? ”

“ No catch! Well, apart from the fact that you’ll need to keep this little one with you at all times. It’s crucial for the experiment, you see. ”

You pinched the bridge of you nose again, you patience wearing thin. “ Let me get this straight. You want me to take care of this creepy, overly realistic doll— ”

“ child doll ” he corrected.

“ Whatever. You want me to play house with this thing, and you think that’s a normal, reasonable request? ”

Crowley waved dismissively. “ Oh, Y/N, don’t be so cold-hearted. Think of it as a new challenge! You’re always saying you want to expand your skill set. ”

“ I’ve never said that ” you deadpanned.

But Crowley wasn’t listening. He was already bustling around, preparing to hand over the doll. “ Now, its name is—well, it doesn’t have one yet! You can name it whatever you like. It’s designed to adapt to its caretaker’s habits and preferences. Isn’t that fascinating? ”

You stared at the doll. Its eyes seemed to glimmer with an unsettling awareness. you didn’t trust it or Crowley but you knew arguing was pointless. He’d either guilt you into accepting or find a way to dump the task on you regardless.

“ And if I refuse? ” you asked, crossing arms.

Crowley’s smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered. “ Oh, Y/N you wouldn’t leave poor little me in a bind, would you? This is a once-in-a-lifetime project! Think of the company’s reputation! and Think of your reputation! ”

You sighed heavily. “ Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I don’t want to hear you whining about it later. ”

“ Splendid! ” Crowley beamed, practically shoving the doll into you arms. “ Now, take good care of it. I’ll check in periodically to see how things are going. ”

You scowled but didn’t bother arguing further. You glanced down at the doll cradled awkwardly in you arms. It was heavier than you expected, and its skin felt disturbingly warm to the touch.

“ This is going to be a nightmare ” you muttered under you breath as you left Crowley’s office.

Back at your apartment, you set the doll down on you couch, glaring at it as if it were responsible for your predicament. You barely had time to process the absurdity of you new task before you phone buzzed with a message from Crowley.

Don’t forget! It needs to be fed, bathed, and put to bed on a strict schedule. Oh, and don’t let anyone else see it! Confidentiality is key!

You're groaned, tossing you phone onto the coffee table. “ Great. Just what I needed parenting advice from a man who can’t even manage an office. ”

The doll sat eerily still, its glassy eyes fixed on you. Despite you frustration, You couldn’t shake the feeling that it was watching you.

Shaking you head, you grabbed a blanket and threw it over the doll. “ Out of sight, out of mind. ”

But as the night wore on, you found youself glancing at the covered figure more often than you cared to admit. Something about it unnerved you, though you couldn’t quite put you finger on why. ( She's just a little tsundere🥺 )

When you finally crawled into bed, exhaustion tugging at you, you muttered to youself, “ It’s just a doll. No big deal. Tomorrow, I’ll figure out how to deal with this mess. ”

But deep down, you knew this wasn’t going to be as simple as Crowley had made it sound.

You woke to the faint sound of something rustling in the living room. You froze, Had you left a window open? Was it a burglar?

You Grabbing a heavy book from you nightstand, you crept toward the noise, you heart pounding.

When you entered the living room, you stopped dead in you tracks. The blanket Your thrown over the doll was on the floor, and the doll itself was sitting upright, its head tilted slightly as if observing You.

You grip tightened on the book. “ Okay, that’s creepy. Did Crowley install some kind of remote control in you? ”

The doll didn’t respond, of course, but its lifelike appearance made you unease grow.

You approached cautiously, picking up the blanket and draping it over the doll again. “ You stay put. I don’t have time for your nonsense. ”

As you turned to make coffee, you phone buzzed again. Another message from Crowley.

Don’t forget to check its morning routine! It’s designed to respond to kindness and care.

You scoffed, pouring youself a mug of coffee. “ Kindness and care, my ass. He just wants me to babysit his creepy science experiment. ”

But as the minutes passed, you couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling that you should at least check on the doll. Begrudgingly, you set your mug down and returned to the living room.

“ All right, let’s get this over with. ”

You lifted the blanket again, half expecting the doll to have moved. To you relief and mild disappointment it was exactly where you left it.

Still, as you looked into its unnervingly realistic eyes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning of something far stranger than Your signed up for.

#yandere twst #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twst yuu #AU Doll

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sunniskyies · 4 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 || 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: A small installment about reader reacting to Stan and Ford’s swap, without her knowing the truth. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Ford Pines x fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Show-Typical injury and death, angst 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: The usual fluffy romance stuff, marriage! 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.4k 𝐀/𝐍: I wasn’t going to write anymore, so consider this short a 3.5! I had to rewatch Weirdmageddon again, so it’s accurate albeit overdramatic.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 > 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒

Ford’s timing couldn’t be more perfect. Your lips have just parted, eyes still heavy-lidded, when your figures become silhouetted against a large, glowing red eye.

Bill is huge, his body crimson with rage; it’s only a matter of time until he discovers the Mystery Shack’s weakness.

“Quickly, Ford! Do something!” You say, drawing back from the warmth of his touch. His eyes linger on you for a second, before jumping to action. You watch, nail tip between anxious teeth, as Ford paints a large, almost cuneiform, circle reminiscent of a séance. You patiently listen to him as he instructs each of you your task (ignoring your lingering bitterness that you didn’t know he knew this). You frantically help the twins pull Stanley and Ford apart from trying to rip out each other’s throats.

And you watch as Bill Cipher looms above you, trapping you and the kids in a blue luminescent cage while the two most important men in your life are suspended in his grasp.

“Quickly, Dipper, grow the cage with your flashlight. The height-altering crystals!” You hiss under your breath.

“It’s really weird hearing you not deny the paranormal, Great Aunt ____,” he replies, pointing the magical flashlight at the bars, the cage growing until you can slip right through.

Mabel’s still helping you over the bars when Dipper calls to Ford and Stanley, “Save yourselves! Run, we’ll take care of Bill!”

“What?!” Ford cries, “That’s a suicide mission!” His eyes dart to yours, pleading. You only steel your expression further, trying to project something into that magnificent brain of his. It’ll all be fine, just get out of here.

“We’ll be okay,” Dipper replies, turning to his sister. “We’ve beat him before.”

“And we’ll beat him again!” She whoops. “Let’s go!”

You try to hurry out of the chamber quickly, but the kids refuse to go without taunting Bill further. Luckily, the demon does eventually give chase— but not before ensnaring the Pines boys once more when they try to follow you, Ford calling out a plea to you. You only look over your shoulder pained, reminding yourself that this will save them.

“When I get my hands on you I’m going to disassemble your molecules!” Cipher howls as his pyramid form hunts you down endless corridors. You pull the kids along, your heart racing with fear and adrenaline. You’re escaping, hope of safety within sight. But even after a daring ascent via grappling hook, and a smashed wall, the wretched entity still manages to seize you.

“Let us down!” You growl, trying to wriggle from his grasp as he smugly carries you back to Ford and Stan. “Please, let the kids down!”

Bill ignores you, all too eager to torment your fiancé. “Time’s up Fordsy! Look what I’ve got!” He coos down to the man. “It’s your family! I think I’m going to kill one of them, just for the heck of it!”

His eye scours over the three of you, squirming in his clutch. “Eeny, meeny, miny… you,” Cipher’s massive red locks onto you, and you're overcome by the hatred and jealousy that it instils.

You take a shuddering breath, trying to prepare yourself for what's to come. Your eyes flutter closed. Stanley, kids, I love you. Ford—

“Wait!” A small voice calls from the ground. From in the cage. “I surrender!”

You twist around to see a distant Ford gripping the walls of the cage, staring defiantly up at Bill.

“NO!” You cry, well, you try to. The air is stolen from your chest as you plummet from the sky, hitting the ground with a sickening sound.

Head and vision fuzzy, you look up to see Bill Cipher dismantling his cage, reaching out a flame-engulfed hand to the love of your life. And he… takes it.

Words knot uselessly in your mouth as you watch Ford sign away his life. “No Grunkle Ford, don’t trust him!” Dipper yells. But fate continues, the world rippling as a triangular shadow sinks into Ford’s hair, his knees buckling beneath him.

The knot unravels.

“STANLEY PINES DON’T YOU DO IT!” You shriek as the horrible man has the audacity to pull the memory gun from his interior pocket. “Please, Stanley! I just got him back! Don’t you kill him, goddammit!”

You think he’s just going to shoot, the steely man never one for hesitation. Yet, his head tilts, eyes catching yours. You’re taken aback; even from here, you sink into their endless sympathy. His warm gaze holds yours for a second.

His finger twitches, then pulls hard. A stream connects the gun to Ford’s head, a laser sinking into his mind and evaporating everything inside.

The scream that bubbles up within you is borderline demonic. As soon as Stanley drops the gun, you scramble over to Ford’s crumpled form. Your body falls into him, quivering hands clutching his face.

Almost instantly you're scrambling away again, perhaps shoving the body a bit too hard. Your back presses into ‘Stanley’s’ legs in your retreat. Your chest heaves, another pained sound peeling from within you.

“Ford?!” You garble. “What’s wrong with Ford that’s not Ford—”

A warm hand on your shoulder cuts you off. Still horrified, you glance up to see a tragically beautiful face looking down at you. The man crouches down behind you, wrapping two strong arms around your shaking form.

“Ford?” You whisper, disbelieving. Ford doesn’t reply, just tucking his head into the crook between your head and shoulder, looking over at Stanley.

Oh. Stanley.

“You horrid boys,” you whisper, a tear rolling down your cheek as you stare over at your best friend, Ford’s overcoat pooling around him. You reach a hand up to cup Ford’s face from its perch, the two of you resting in silence for a moment.

It’s almost poetic, Bill Cipher’s demise. The chaos around you returns to lush green valleys, bricks rebuilding themselves, demons disintegrating, all while your bodies stay pressed together.

“You’re okay,” you murmur to your beloved in this gap in time before you have to make your way over to Stan, before you have to be there for the kids.

“We made it,” he replies, so quiet you could miss it.

“How are we going to go on? What does the future look like for us now?” You ask, Stan’s form flickering in visibility before you as the chamber containing you dismantles itself. Your eyes watch him between the blocks of black stone and hellish artefacts.

“I don’t know, my love.” Ford’s hands have taken yours, rolling your engagement ring between finger and thumb.

In the middle of the Arctic Ocean, atop a bobbing grey-hulled ship, two lovers exchange rings. Their words are swept away by icy winds, waves folding them up and sinking their vows deep into the ocean’s heart. Salty spray makes the silver bands slide on, hands slick as they hold each other, an extra finger on each side.

You're bundled up in an old blue coat, borrowed from a man with a tan line on his temple from a lifetime sporting a fez. A new pair of sturdy black boots supports you from the ocean’s sway, a gift from your doting husband. You made an effort to wear a white blouse beneath your cold weather clothes, your silver hair a long veil swept out behind you, toiling in the wind.

Your face is flushed from the biting cold, but the man in front of you knows your ears are pink from the way he stares at you while he recites those honeyed words. In turn, you know his pupils are not dilated from the darkness of the storm clouds above, rather the way you clutch his face and press cool lips against his the second Stanley proclaims you can.

The warmth between your flush bodies is a sacred bubble from the arctic air, the sound of your twin heartbeats drowning out the creaks and groans of the ship. Ford’s lips taste like salt and biscuity rations, but when your nose buries into his face as you kiss you swear you can smell the tang of pine and ink. His hands against your skin are large and rugged and perfect for life on deck, yet you feel their calluses come from a lifetime adventuring a forested town rather than a life at sea.

Ford bends to you; arms ever supporting your weight, lips endlessly worshipping of yours. He smiles against you as he feels the coolness of your ring brush past him, excitement bubbling up at the idea that you are his wife. He is yours, and you get to call him as such.

Stanford Pines has traversed thousands of light years, slipped through countless dimensions and fought monsters well beyond our imaginations. But his favourite place in the whole universe, along every time continuum, is half a centimetre away from a woman, floating in the middle of the vast ocean.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @sleeplessdreamer14 @2hiigh2cry @taffycandyqt @papi-machucha @muffin1304

@space1crow @fries11 @yasuuuudere @shadowsandswords @darling-eos

@bloodspatteredprincess @snake-in-a-flower-crown

#gravity falls #ford x reader #stanford x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines #stanford pines #gravity falls x reader #fanfic #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls stanford #one shot #ford pines x you #stanford pines x you #fanfiction

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renhanaschewtoy · 1 month ago

Text

Favorite Bartender

This one also got away from me OTZ I hope I did okay with Strade. Pardon my translation all I have is Google. I'll write Ren the cosplay handler when I get back from a con next week. If you're at Colossal North lmk! 💖 NSFW MDNI

There was something endearing about dive bars, there was something exclusive about them in their own right. People knew each other, there was a decorum of understanding. Regulars were their own type and new folk, out of towners, well- they usually couldn’t appreciate it fully. The Braying Mule was well and good, always rife with interesting people, but nobody could be “on” all the time. Strade knew that. In his own time, on the quiet nights he decided to be out but lay low, not on the prowl, not looking for an easy bright eyed mark, he was in this dive bar. The name didn’t even matter, the sign was so worn it had been taken down in a storm years ago- the owner just never bothered with it. Regulars kept business in order and they helped keep the place in check. Strade included himself in that roster. Granted nobody really knew him, all by his design. But he was endearing, he was liked here. Maybe it was just nice to shed away a little, wear a different mask.

And sometimes, even he had to admit, the acrid smell of the place reminded Strade of his own little projects. Pushing open the door, Strade moseyed up to the bar, giving a little nod and grin to a few other regulars who greeted him similarly or with a small wave or raise of a glass. Settling on an old worn stool, he leaned on the sticky lacquered wood and inspected the beer taps.

“You can stare at ‘em from sun up to sun down, they still haven’t gotten that funny sounding beer you keep trying to pitch.”

A teasing lilt of a voice draws his amber gaze over to your form shouldering the door behind the door open dragging a bucket of ice to dump into the bin and let the metal lid clatter shut. A grin pulls your lips as always. Ah- you. The feisty bartender who wasn’t afraid to talk shit to anybody, get their hands dirty if need be, keep the establishment and all in it in line with a way that was firm but fair. Admirable. “Ah, liebling, I didn’t know you were working tonight!” Strade mirrors your grin with a warm chuckle.

That was bullshit.

He knew your schedule.

He preferred to be here when you were here.

Though of course, sometimes he had to skip out or change it up so nobody, or you, got wise.

You give a playful roll of your eyes as you deftly pluck a stein and pull a tab with the glass tilted at the perfect practiced angle. A rich dark dark beer sits in front of him on an old cardboard coaster so worn it should likely be trash at this point. “It isn’t the one you were talking about but…you must’ve worn him down. He got a German beer.”

“You spoil me!”

“All I did was pour it.” You chuckle and lean against the back of the bar folding your arms expectantly, awaiting his verdict. Maybe it was because it was your job to serve him but Strade liked the attention you paid to him. It was different from the other patrons and regulars. You didn’t snap at him, your lips didn’t curl in a sneer at him, you didn’t wave him off. No- you paid attention, you listened, you participated. All beautiful qualities wrapped up into once very enticing package. Strade gives a little contented sigh before lifting the glass to his lips and taking a healthy swig, setting the glass down and wiping the foam from the corner his lips with his thumb.

“Hmm…it’s good. Strong.” Strade comments with a nod of approval before lifting his eyes to see you look some pleased with yourself about it. You could say all you wanted, but Strade picked up your tells. You were probably the one bothering the owner enough about getting a keg of something for him. You sweet little thing, you. “Do you know what it is?” He leans forward on his elbows with a tilt of his head as a lazy grin curls his lips. You look away and shrug.

“I dunno something something doppelbock or whatever.” You fib lamely, pretending as if you didn’t care, as if you weren’t pleased with your little stripe of success. Strade huffs a chuckle and leans back on the stool giving a hum of acknowledgement as he takes another sip. “How much do I owe you then?”

“Nah, on the house.” He knew that was coming, you always give him a few freebies here and there under the usual saying that everyone gets a free beer here and there with their regular patronage. But that usually only held after he had one or two, not just off rip. He gives you that disarming smile that makes most women swoon. It isn’t that you’re immune to it perse, rather a little more used to it. A motion of endearment to match your own. Strade watches you idly bustle around the bar, serving other customers, fetching fresh bottles, wiping down the bar- though the latter, it didn’t matter how much elbow grease you used. Occasionally he watches whatever is playing on the TVs around the joint, sipping his beer- of which you never let stay empty for too long. You always insisted it was muscle memory and your years of working but Strade noticed that he was given far better attention.

Drumming his fingers on the bar, he lazily looks to you, “It’s a slow night.” He muses thoughtfully, “Do a shot with me. It’s too lonely to alone.” His grin splits to show a flash of teeth and you chuckle, setting down a few clean pint glasses with a shake of your head as you lift a small, narrow can to your lips.

“Sorry, Strade. I don’t drink on the job.” You admit easily with a languid shrug as you take a few sip, Strade’s eyes glimpsing down to the column of your throat as it works to swallow your energy drink. He wonders what your throat might feel like in his grip, how smooth the skin would be against he callouses of his palms. How your pulse would flutter if he applied just the right amount of pressure. If he kissed that soft, unblemished skin, perhaps left marks. What did you like, he wondered? Did you prefer to be taken soft and gentle, peppered with praise and coos of endearment? Or did you like to be roughed up, bruising grips and mottled marks to decorate your skin while you’re growled filth at and degraded? It was a curious thought he entertained quite often, even so much as when he did take a victim home, sometimes he would imagine you when they were face down in the cheap foam mattress, when their hair was in his hand as he bucked his hips into their mouths…but you’d be different. You were different.

“Mmm…what a shame. You aren’t allowed to have a little fun?” Strade flutters his eyes for a moment to focus back on you, with a curious little brow arched on your face as you caught him daydreaming for but a moment. “Come on, it can be our little secret.” He teases mock conspiratorily, leaning towards you on the bar as. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Ah, I just don’t wanna risk getting messy on the clock.”

“One shot won’t fuck you up, liebling. You’re made of stronger stuff.”

“...You’re not going to let up until I do, eh?”

Strade pretends to look half heartedly apologetic but you both know he isn’t in the slightest. And to him a foot in the door is a foot in the door, sure- a shot on your shift is but an inch and he would just love to take your world. To become your world. He watches you give an exaggerated sigh of defeat and roll of your eyes before a playful smirk pulls your lips while you fish two shot glasses and begin to fill them.

Taking you, owning you, breaking you- it’s all part of the same pipe dream. As tempted as Strade is, as easy as it would be; you had family and friends, you had a wide social circle that was sure to garner attention with your disappearance. And he would be directly connected to you with this little song and dance routine he’s come to adore so. Doing such to you is a thrilling danger he can only flirt with but never act on. And that’s part of the allure of it all, of you. The shot glass is pushed in front of him, some of the liquor spilling over the rim before he picks it up and meets you half way in a cheers. “To our little secret.” He grins and you both tap your glasses on the bar twice before clinking your glass against his, downing your shot with the same practiced ease that Strade does. Strade watches you exhale through your nose before shooting him a smirk. “See? And you’re fine!” He chimes and you roll your eyes playfully before scooping up the dirty shot glasses.

Strade shuffles up beside you, easily stringing an arm around your shoulders and tucking you into his side. He smells of the beer you poured him, of lingering cigar smoke, a cologne of spice and musk that's as oddly comforting as it was masculine. “I'm…uh, just around back that way.” You mutter with a blush rising over your cheeks and pointing towards the back of the block. Strade chuckles to himself and nods, leading and preening at the feel of you leaning against him in kind. His large hand gives you shoulder an affectionate squeeze as you walk with some amicable conversation and goofing as usual, Strade's charm laid on a little thicker as he feigns a slur as if it was all your pours that impacted him so.

Hours tick and tock on by before you’re hollering last call for the bar. Strade settles up his tab and leaves you hefty tip that you, as always, try to give at least part of it back. Strade shakes his head, running a hand through his wavy chestnut hair. “You’ve earned it.” Strade insists as you pout at him before begrudgingly pocket the money. Not that you weren’t grateful but it felt excessive. Not that it mattered to him. “Hm…Let me walk you to your car.” Strade hums as he stands from the stool and fixes you with an expectant look.

“What? I’m not going to be done cleaning up here for like…another hour. I’ll be fine. I do it all the time. I’ve got my means.” You reply, waving him off as you begin to collect empty bottles and discarded napkins or coasters around the establishment. Strade’s huff is brief, but he rolls his shoulders back. Maybe he was being gluttonous after convincing you to break one little rule. “Besides, nobody but staff after we’re closed.”

“We already share one little secret, what’s one more? Surely some help and getting home sooner would be nice?” Strade urges, already beginning to upturn some barstools on other tables and onto the bar counter. Seeing you pause and chew your lip, seeing him already being able to sink his hooks in you, in any little way, is simply delightful. You play tough, you’re feisty, but clearly you like being looked after, like the attention he grants you. But you relent and give him a little smile that curls your lips, looking almost bashful. Strade gets a better look of behind the bar, be a little closer, be a little more alone with you and ultimately that’s all this was about really. Fostering trust, drawing you closer. Though it felt as if he was more in your orbit than anything but he was loathe to give up that control. This could only go so far, after all. Eventually you both finish up with your tasks about closing down the bar and you pull keys out of your pocket to lock up the doors as Strade waits behind you, hands leisurely in his pockets while he takes in the stillness of the night, or rather early morning. As if you two were the only people left alive for a moment.

“Ah, your chariot, liebling. Be safe getting home.” Strade grins as you unlock your car and he reaches for your door with a playful flourish and bow. You snicker to yourself, that ever charming grin pulling on your lips as you move to tuck into the driver's seat. He closes the door as your car rumbles to light and you give a shy little wave before pulling away which Strade returns.

Fuck does he want more. Want you. Standing there in the empty back lot he gives himself a moment to envision you again. Spattered in warm, sticky blood…begging under his hands for mercy…what kind didn't matter, tears beading your lashes, the way your eyes would roll back and flutter in agony or pleasure… Strade’s cock begins to stiffen in his pants as a shaky sigh parts his lips, lidded gaze watching your taillights disappear down the street.

×××

Perhaps he couldn't do all he wanted.

But there were some he could.

Coincidences were funny things, unexpected, sometimes happy, sometimes messy, Strade usually embraced them with his large open arms. The confidence of a man who lived and knew that he could spin just about any scenario to his favor. Tonight was a night he opted not to go to your humble bar. Sometimes, distance made the heart grow fonder after all and Strade couldn’t bear to let you make him go soft. Well…you usually had a different lingering affect but that wasn’t here nor there. There were some critical things he wanted that you simply couldn’t satisfy. Strade knew better. Nobody should shit where they eat. Strade was many things but he wasn’t stupid. So tonight was a little more routine, a little more…designed for the inclinations that you couldn’t sate. But Strade could pretend through perhaps someone who looked a smidge like you.

Oh goddammit. God, of course he would come over and say something- you made a point to make eye contact. You suck in a breath through your teeth and force a smile as you turn to look at Strade; toothy grin on his face and holding his stein close to his chest. “Hey Strade. Yeah, uh…got cut early so figured I’d have a night out.” You shrug, unable to hold his honey colored gaze for too long which seems to raise his brows, a curious twinkle in his eye as he sets his mug down on the table beside your glass as you idly poke at the straw and shift the ice around. The woman he had been chatting up wasn’t beside him but you could feel her eyes prickling at the back of your neck.

At a different bar across town, Strade was posted up a heavy glass stein laden with a dark doppelbock like you had last served him. Fortunate that the bar served something similar but not quite the same. It seemed to be the theme of the night as he chattered up an oblivious and bubbly woman, they had hair just a few shades off from your own- too (short/long) to quite fit you but Strade could make do. Their eyes were a darker tinge of (color) from your own, their smile didn’t carry that unspoken sarcasm, her clothes nearly polar opposite but that was the least of his concerns. Those certainly didn’t matter at all. “A shame you got stood up, truly. But I will say- their loss is certainly my victory.” Strade chuckles smoothly as the woman gives a titter of laughter, covering her painted lips with her hand trying to be coquettish. He leans in to murmur the final string of words that will put the nail in the coffin.

“Hey- uh…can I get a (preferred drink)? Thanks.”

Strade would know that voice anywhere. What were you doing here? Today was usually another one of your closing shifts. His attention falters as he looks over to you and catches you glimpsing at him with a rather annoyed side eye before turning your attention back to the bartender. Taking your drink you flash the bartender a grateful smile and slip your tip on the bar before quickly turning on your heel to disappear into the throngs of other people in the bar. Your lips set in a tight line as you skulked over to your friend settled up at one of the tall tables and you leaned against it with a bitter sigh.

You had no right to feel this way, to feel jealous. Strade was a regular, he was a patron where you worked. You weren’t blind, you knew he was good with his words, you knew he was charming. You naturally had tripped up at his charms but felt damn good that you’d never gone ass over tea kettle for them. Maybe it was foolish to think you had chemistry. Maybe it was stupid to have a secret little self rule not to date regulars- after all there were plenty of other bars. But seeing him lean over that woman, being so close to her, that lazy little grin he often gave you, the way the woman looked up at him so enamored…it made your stomach twist in taut knots. Your friend raises a brow inquisitively that you simply shoot them a look that makes them swallow their words as you raise your glass to your lips for a sip.

“Buddy! I didn’t know you would be here! What a nice surprise.”

“A night out, well- I’d say that’s a good reward for you, hm? Be served rather than serving? I could never forgive myself if I missed an opportunity to buy you a drink myself.” Strade places a hand to his heart in playful theatrics that for a moment make you forget your sour mood and a small smile quirk your lips.

“I mean, I’d hate to interrupt your night. You seemed pretty uh…busy.” You’d cringe at the delivery of your own words, a small grimace crinkles your nose for but a moment as your shoulders stiffen. It takes all Strade has not to let smug satisfaction come over him as he hears the bitterness tinge your statement. You were jealous. Oh, he relished in that, he adored it even. You simply had a way of always just making his evenings. Elation rose in his chest as a better opportunity presented itself in you. Sure- your beautiful blood would never paint his basement but if Strade played his cards right, he was more than certain he could make you scream and cry in other ways.

“And miss such an occasion? Please. This was a boring night until you came along. As always.” Strade replies smoothly with a toothy grin, “It isn’t every night we get to be on the same side of the bar.” And with any luck he can get you all to himself. Play the right cards, say the right things, get you wrapped around his finger, or his cock- whatever worked. You return his smile, your shoulders relaxing as you look up at Strade and give a little bob of your head to relent.

“...Yeah, yeah you’re right. It could be fun.”

“Of course it’ll be fun, have you met me?” Strade gives you a little wink before being interrupted by the woman who decides she’s had enough of being sidelined.

“Uhmm…I thought we were leaving?” Her arms wind around Strade’s arm, pressing herself against him with an exaggerated pout, trying to set a tone as you simply look between Strade and the woman, as Strade simply arches a brow to her, and your friend raises their brows to their hairline, sipping their drink with rapt attention as if watching some sort of reality TV program.

“Hmm? Mein Gott, wie peinlich…” Strade mutters for but a moment, his words and tone are genuine though some irritation belies the sheepish look he forces onto his rugged features. “Just a moment, buddy.” Strade gives your shoulder that same squeeze as the nights before as he places a hand firmly on the other woman’s back and leads her away from the table. Your throat grows tight again with an irritated exhale.

The night carries on, you getting a little bolder with each drink, every shared shot as you laughed and joked, growing a more and more affectionate with each little sip of courage Strade was happy to give you. But you were smart, you didn’t want to wake up hungover and with no recollection of this night. You wanted to remember whatever it was that you got from him, be it another simple walk to your car and a night of revelry or if it was tangled up in either of your bedsheets. And Strade was all too happy to oblige, watching you flaunt your mettle in the bar but being careful all the same as not to lose your head. Strade wanted you to cut loose. Wanted you to be as untethered and wild as possible. But maybe he was getting ahead of himself. Your friend had since excused themself quietly- reading the room and sending you a knowing little wink and wave that you gleefully grinned at.

Unbeknownst to you, ever the opportunist, Strade wasn’t willing to let the other woman go either. After leading her out through the alley and cracking her head hard enough to the wall to hear the skull fracture, she was swiftly bound, gagged and deposited in his trunk. A midnight snack for a later date. So when he returned with a reddened cheek, he had an easy story to spin.

“The fuck happened to you? Christ.” You remark, instinctively reaching out to his cheek before retracting your hand.

“Ah…well, she didn’t quite take so well to being told I…wasn’t interested.” Strade remarks with a roll of his broad shoulders and he could almost see that flicker of approval in your eyes that he’d opted to spend his night with you instead.

“Feels like I should be the one buying you a drink.” You quip playfully, nudging him with your elbow, you’re careful with your contact now, you don’t want to seem too eager. And that’s fine. Strade flashes you a grin of pearly whites before slinging an arm around your shoulder again to tug you close in a side hug again.

“No, no, no, I am a man of my word, liebling. Tonight is all about showing you a good time.” Strade chuckles warmly, the timbre of his voice sending a shudder down his spine that he can feel against his built frame. His hand slips from your shoulder to the cinch of your waist this time with a firmer squeeze, possessive. And you leaned in. Like he knew you would.

“I could go for a cigarette right about now…care to join me?” Strade’s voice is low in your ear, warm breath fanning over the side of your neck as he carefully tucks a strand of (color, type) hair behind your ear before his hand slips down past your hip to slip itself into your back pocket. A large hand gropes the plush of your ass through the denim eliciting a sharp inhale from you, a rosy hue blooming over your cheeks as you bob your head and let him guide you out the back door as the crisp night air meets your exposed skin.

“I didn’t know you smoke.” You look up at him curiously as Strade tucks the two of you into the cover of an empty side alley.

“There’s much you don’t know about me yet, liebling. But I could say the same for you, no?” Strade’s eyes glance to the side before returning back to you, leaning against the brick wall so cavalier, so unaware of what Strade could do to you, all he wants to do to you.

But he would take this, there was an outlet for later.

Sweet serendipity.

Your eyes drift up as you see Strade’s frame looming over you, silhouetted by the moon. Suddenly aware of how close he is to you, that you can smell his cologne again and your breath hitches slightly before you swallow thickly. “...Stra–mmpf!” His name is barely off your tongue before his lips crash onto your own. Hungry and all consuming as Strade descends upon you, devouring you as he presses you back against the cold brick wall, pinning you to it and the bulk of his body. His teeth nip at your lower lip, demanding entry that your foggy brain is powerless but to comply to. You can taste the bitterness of beer on his tongue and he can taste the sweetness of whatever you had been ordering on his tab. Strade’s groan is swallowed as your arms lift to string around his neck, fingers carding through his hair and nails raking against his scalp. He feels your back arch, pressing your body closer to his own, Strade lets a low growl at your willing surrender as he shifts a thigh between your legs, applying pressure to your aching core. Strade’s lips leave your kiss swollen lips to let you pant and catch your breath, rivulets of spit connecting your mouths as your lidded, glassy eyes slowly lift to Strade.

“Look at you, liebling…” Strade coos almost mockingly and it makes something tighten in you abdomen as the vice grip on your hips moves you lightly as if to help you ride his thigh that pulls a ragged moan from your throat. “Mmm…needy, hm? Don’t think I didn’t see that…that look from before…” Strade mutters as he dips his head to kiss along the curve of your jaw down to your throat, teeth nipping and tongue laving at the spots to leave a litany of marks in his wake. Little mewls leave your lips as you squirm under his grip, wanting to be closer, trying to form words but your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. “...Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it…I’m flattered.” Strade purrs as he feels your hips buck against his thigh eagerly, hands fisting his wavy tresses that sends shockwaves straight to his cock that strains against the zipper.

Large hands drift to the button of your jeans, popping them open and the draw of your zipper being pulled down that makes your lashes flutter. “W-Wait…woah, St-Strade…not here, I-”

“Mmm? Why not here?” He teases, dragging the fabric down the smooth skin of your thighs that you suddenly tried to clamp shut. “No, no…” He tutts softly, prying them back apart, “Wouldn’t this be just so perfect? We are in private…and if someone were to see, well…” His tone is alight with amusement, “They could be jealous instead…that I have you.” Your nervous eyes can’t tear themselves away from the sight of Strade crouching between your legs, forcing you to lean back against the wall in nothing but your underwear that he moves about to expose your throbbing, eager sex. “Behave, liebling…I don’t do this for just anybody.” And that might be one of the truest things he’s ever said. Control was always a given, Strade to take what he wanted, perhaps you made him feel…generous. All the attention you’ve fawned upon him in your own way, how pliant you showed him you could be- and only for him, that was something that deserved to be rewarded. To melt you, make you more malleable in his hands. His tongue traces shapes and patterns along your sensitive flesh, one hand keeping your thighs apart before one disappears to nudge a finger at your entrance before easing a finger in, crooking it against that spongy spot of nerves before thrusting slowly as he spelled his own name with his tongue in a way that had you fighting against bucking your hips.

“F-Fuck…St- shit..! Strade…!” Your breath fans out in ragged pants as you watch him lave attention over a bundle of nerves paired with a thrusting digit that almost has your knees buckling. “...’m gonna…!” You keen eagerly, lashes fluttering as he feasts upon you wetly, soft sounds in the alley with your muffled moans as you bit down into your knuckle to feebly stifle your wanton sounds. Pressure builds and coils tight in your belly, flirting with the edge of euphoria until Strade bites the inside of your thigh eliciting a yelp from you. “The fuck?!” Strade stands up fast, with a dexterity and agility that didn’t match his size and stature, that had your body falter slightly against the bricks. Strade’s hand holds your chin in place as he looks down at your lips and your furrowed brow. Your pleading was so sweet, so beautiful…god- he could make you beg more. But for now…well, Strade has his ways, as always. “Strade, please…” You groan and he seems amused all the more.

“Open your mouth.”

“Wh..huh?”

“Open, liebling. I won’t ask again.” There’s an authoritative edge to his voice that has your core throbbing, leaking as you’re exposed in the alley. The thrill of it all sending lightning through your veins as you slowly part your trembling lips. Strade gives a low, rumbling hum of approval before spitting onto your tongue making heat flood your cheeks and a humiliated whine in the back of your throat. “Swallow. You should be grateful…you taste so good.” Strade watches you close your mouth, your throat bob slowly as you swallow and sigh before your breath is stolen from your lungs again in a bruising kiss, swallowing your moan greedily. Parting for air is brief as you feel large calloused hands gripping your waist to pull you further upright, shuffle you around until your front is pressed to the brick, the fat of your cheek pressed to the cold bite of brick but Strade seems to mind the pressure and strength he holds over you as you’re bent, pants now pooled around your ankles but you’re too far gone to care. You arch your back with purpose, pressing your ass back against his hardened cock with an eager obedience that Strade adored so.

“So good for me, liebling…like you were made for me…” Strade huffs as you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle coming undone, a calloused hand groping the fat of your ass before shifting your underwear to meet with your jeans below you before you feel the bulbous head of his cock press against you. The hand on your ass moves to grip your hip and keep you steady while the other trails up the beautiful curve of your spine, up the nape of your neck before his fingers tangle in your hair, the grip is firm enough to sting a little but not hurt. Strade could if he wanted to, temptation was there most certainly but he’d go slow for you. Breaking you in piece by piece with rough affections that would leave you satisfied. He could feel how eagerly you were, how badly you wanted this, and how readily you responded to his means. You whine with his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips back and urging him in. And that’s all Strade needs, to have you wrapped around him. And wrapped around him you will be. Until you are bent and broken, full and delirious; treated better than anyone one else. You were something different, something special. Untouchable but in a way immortal to Strade.

Maybe you could be something… special and more permanent.

He was already flirting with something similar in Ren back home but you…oh, what fun it could all be. Thoughts for another day.

With a sudden snap of his hips, Strade buries himself in you with a brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs and has you choking on air as your body quivers at the sudden intrusion. “Ich kann fühlen wie du dich nach mir sehnst (I can feel you aching for me)…”Strade huffs with a smug smirk curling the corners of his lips as he sets a ruthless pace, the wet sound of skin colliding with skin, his heavy sac slapping against you with each push of his hips that you reciprocated in kind as your teeth dug into your lower lip trying to keep your sounds hushed but your body betrayed you. Strade bent over your back nipping at your ear as he stilled to more shallow thrusts to torture you further, “Just imagine, Liebling…someone seeing you spread out here for me…” He lilts in that low silken tone that has your walls clenching around him, fluttering with each filthy, honeyed word that drips from his lips. “Just a perfect little cock sleeve…just for me, yes?” Punctuated by a deliberate roll of his hips that has your lashes fluttering and eyes threatening to roll back into your skull. A sharp tug to your hair leaves your mouth agape as you tighten around his dick again with a breathy groan. “...Say it.”

“Sh-shit…please! Yes, please!” You nearly sobbed, desperation and want clouding all rational thought as you begged Strade, giving him the allowance to do as he pleased with you. Soft mutterings in his mother tongue left his lips; an assortment of praise, of filth, obscenities as his thrusting became staccato before a long, low growl parted Strade’s lips, muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Spilling into you with rivulets of thick, viscous cum while your walls milked him greedily, your own orgasm threatening to have your knees to collapse around you but Strade was quick to move his thick arms around your middle to keep you up, keep you in place as he pumped you full of his cum until it dripped out of you obscenely, forming a small puddle on the concrete. The vacant alley was only given life by the two of you panting raggedly to catch your breaths, Strade’s grip still a vice you wouldn’t be able to break from.

“Hhnngh!...fuck…just for you!” You manage to choke out pleadingly, trying to push your hips back but Strade halts entirely in a way that makes you whine.

“You can do better than that.”

“I d-don’t…wh…uh…” The brick digs into your palms as you try to collect your addled thoughts, of what words might appease him, “Haah~...mmm…J-Just for you, Strade.” You try as his name seems to be all that can fill the folds of your brain; his taste, his smell, the feel of him felt ingrained into you.

“That’s better…” He croons to you, however the feeling of you throbbing around his aching cock was just as torturous for Strade but he could be patient from time to time, when it counted anyway. Impulse won most of the time. “Taking me so well…” his breathing labored as you could feel him pressed to your back, hips pistoning with newfound vigor as Strade’s hand left your hair to close around your throat. No pressure is applied, simply relishing in the feeling of your erratic pulse as he fucks all coherent thought from your brain as he uses the leverage to bring your face to his in a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, as if to consume you whole, that you would be devoured. “Mnnngh…hah…sucking me back in like that…such a slutty little hole…” Strade growls against your mouth as his hips slam against your ass so hard you were certain you’d be bruised by the end of it. “...fill you to the brim…” He huffs, a deep flush had risen from his throat to his cheeks, a heady look that washed over his features as sweat beaded on his brow dampening the curls that fell over his forehead.

“F-Fuck…” You breathe, slowly raising your hands to rest on his forearms, giving them a little tap, “I just…I can’t…” You were still trying to collect your thoughts and you could almost feel him smirk against your skin as you felt his breaths warm your sweat slicked skin.

“...Maybe I can interest you in a nightcap? At my place?” He hums, dislodging himself from your depths with a deep grunt as he watches you quiver and leak. You seem to take stock again, remembering where you are, as you quickly reach to tug up your underwear and jeans, pulling your shirt back down as Strade tucks himself back into his pants and adjusts his belt. You look so pretty like this, embarrassed but thrilled, debauched but dressed again- the tell tale signs of what- or rather who, happened to you, evident on the outside and inside.

“Huh? Oh, no…I don’t think so.” You breathe with a little chuckle and Strade looks at you, a dark and almost hollow look upon his face but for a minute that you seem to misinterpret. “Just cause my place is closer. C’mon.” You give him that fond, disarming smile as you dare to reach for his hand and lead him to the parking lot that has the brief uptick of annoyance assuaged from Strade entirely at your quick turnabout. He pushes a small smile on his lips before raising a hand to cup your jaw before holding the back of your skull and pressing another searing kiss to your lips.

“Give me your address and get ready for me…I just have to stop home very quickly. But I will be there.”

“If you stand me up, I’m pouring you Malort every time.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, liebling. You said so yourself, you’re just for me now.” He flashes you grin that holds an underlying meaning you can’t quite ferret out, but you giddy stride to your car to do as your told for a promised nightcap.

#boyfriend to death #btd #btd strade #ykmet strade #ykmet #btd strade x reader #strade x reader #boyfriend to death strade #strade #ykmet strade x reader

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herrscherofinsanity · 5 months ago

Text

Drop-dead Gorgeous

When the new friend you made in college is pretty weird and very obviously hiding something... what is one supposed to do?

Fluff probably.

Twice Nayeon x fem!reader

Word count: 4.4k

Hi! I'm back and very inspired

____________________

y/n hurried across the bustling college campus, dodging groups of students chatting and laughing. It was the first day of the new semester, and she was determined to make a good impression in her biology class. She finally reached the lecture hall, slightly out of breath, and pushed open the heavy door.

Inside, the room was already filling up with students. y/n scanned the rows of seats, looking for an empty spot. Her eyes landed on a girl sitting alone near the middle of the room. She had long, dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders and a pale, almost ethereal complexion. Despite the girl's reserved demeanor, something about her intrigued y/n.

y/n made her way over and smiled warmly. "Hi, is this seat taken?"

The girl looked up, her expression neutral but her eyes sharp and observant. "No, go ahead."

"Thanks," y/n said, settling into the seat next to her. She set her notebook on the desk and turned to the girl. "I’m y/n, by the way."

"Nayeon," the girl replied, her voice soft but clear.

y/n noticed that Nayeon’s skin had an unusual pallor, almost ashen, and when their hands brushed as she adjusted her notebook, y/n was surprised by how cold her touch was. She filed these observations away, curious but not wanting to pry.

As the professor began outlining the semester’s project, y/n couldn’t help but steal glances at Nayeon. There was something captivating about her new partner, something that made y/n want to know more.

After the lecture, as students began to pack up and leave, y/n decided to break the ice. "So, Nayeon, what did you think of the professor's project idea?"

Nayeon shrugged slightly. "It seems interesting. A lot of work, but interesting."

y/n smiled. "Yeah, I agree. Do you want to maybe grab a coffee and discuss it? It’s always easier to brainstorm over caffeine."

Nayeon hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Sure, why not."

They made their way to a nearby campus café, the conversation flowing more easily than y/n had expected. Nayeon was reserved but polite, and y/n’s bubbly personality seemed to draw her out of her shell little by little.

As they sat down with their drinks, y/n couldn’t help but ask, "So, where are you from? Your accent is a bit different."

Nayeon took a sip of her coffee before answering. "I’ve moved around a lot. My family is a bit... unconventional."

y/n laughed lightly. "Unconventional how?"

Nayeon looked down at her coffee, her expression unreadable. "It’s complicated."

y/n sensed that this was a sensitive topic and decided to steer the conversation back to safer ground. "Well, I’m glad we ended up as partners. I think we’ll make a great team."

Nayeon looked up and gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. "Yeah, me too."

They spent the next hour discussing their project, sharing ideas and getting to know each other a bit more. By the time they parted ways, y/n felt a genuine connection with Nayeon, even if there was still an air of mystery around her.

As she walked back to her dorm, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something different about Nayeon. But rather than being put off, she found herself even more intrigued.

---------

Over the next few weeks, y/n and Nayeon’s partnership blossomed into a genuine friendship. They spent hours together in the library, coffee shops, and their favorite study spots on campus. Despite Nayeon’s reserved nature, she found herself opening up more to y/n’s sunny disposition.

One afternoon, they were in the library working on their project. y/n noticed that Nayeon was wearing gloves, even though it wasn’t particularly cold.

"Are you cold?" y/n asked, raising an eyebrow.

Nayeon glanced at her gloved hands and shrugged. "I just like wearing them."

y/n chuckled. "Okay, Michael Jackson."

Nayeon smirked. "I’ll take that as a compliment."

As they continued to work, y/n couldn’t help but notice other peculiarities. Nayeon never ate in front of her, always claiming she wasn’t hungry. When they touched hands accidentally, Nayeon's skin was always unusually cold. y/n found these quirks endearing but puzzling.

One evening, they were in y/n’s dorm room, working late. y/n’s roommate had gone out, leaving them alone.

y/n stretched and yawned. "Do you want anything to eat? I have some snacks."

Nayeon shook her head. "No, thanks. I’m good."

y/n shrugged and grabbed a bag of chips for herself. "More for me, then."

As y/n munched on the chips, she noticed Nayeon looking a bit uncomfortable. "Hey, are you okay?"

Nayeon forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired."

y/n nodded and continued eating. "You know, Nayeon, you’re a bit of an enigma."

Nayeon raised an eyebrow. "Oh? How so?"

"Well, you never eat in front of me, you wear gloves all the time, and you’re always so cold. Are you a vampire or something?" y/n joked, laughing.

Nayeon stiffened for a moment before laughing it off. "Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m just really mysterious."

y/n laughed. "Well, I’ll figure you out eventually."

As they continued working, y/n’s roommate suddenly burst into the room. "Hey, y/n! Oh, hey Nayeon!"

Nayeon turned around, startled. "Hi."

y/n’s roommate, Jennie, looked at them curiously. "What are you guys up to?"

"Just working on our project," y/n said, smiling.

Jennie nodded and plopped down on her bed. "Cool. Hey, y/n, can you pass me that soda?"

y/n reached for the soda can but accidentally knocked it over, spilling it on the floor. "Oops!"

Nayeon jumped up quickly, her reflexes almost unnaturally fast, and grabbed some tissues to clean it up. Jennie stared, wide-eyed. "Whoa, that was fast."

y/n laughed. "Yeah, Nayeon’s like some sort of ninja."

Nayeon smiled awkwardly. "Just quick reflexes, I guess."

As the weeks went by, y/n noticed more oddities. Nayeon always seemed to know when someone was coming before they arrived, her movements were often too smooth and precise, and she never seemed to get sick or tired like everyone else.

One day, they were walking across campus when y/n tripped over a loose brick on the path. Before she could hit the ground, Nayeon had caught her, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

"Wow, you’re like my personal superhero," y/n said, grinning.

Nayeon helped her up, looking slightly embarrassed. "Just lucky timing."

y/n laughed. "Well, thanks for saving me."

-----------

(One evening, as they were working in y/n’s dorm room, y/n accidentally knocked over a stack of papers. As she bent down to pick them up, she noticed a small vial rolling out of Nayeon’s bag; it was labeled “Embalming Fluid.”

“Nayeon, what’s this?” y/n asked, holding up the vial.

Nayeon’s eyes widened, and she quickly snatched it back. “Oh, just... a family thing.”

y/n raised an eyebrow. “A family thing?”

“Yeah, we’re... in the funeral business,” Nayeon said, clearly uncomfortable.

y/n decided not to push further, but her curiosity was piqued.)

-----------

Despite all the strange occurrences, y/n found herself growing more attached to Nayeon. They spent more time together, their friendship deepening. y/n’s natural curiosity and Nayeon’s guarded demeanor created an intriguing dynamic, filled with moments of laughter and genuine connection.

One evening, they were sitting on the roof of y/n’s dorm, watching the sunset. y/n turned to Nayeon, her expression thoughtful.

"You know, I don’t really care if you’re hiding something," y/n said softly. "I like you just the way you are."

Nayeon looked at her, her eyes softening. "Thanks, y/n. That means a lot."

y/n grinned. "Besides, everyone has their quirks. Yours just make you more interesting."

Nayeon laughed, feeling a warmth she hadn’t felt in a long time. "You’re something else, y/n."

Their friendship continued to grow, filled with laughter, shared secrets, and a bond that seemed unbreakable. Despite the quirks and the mysteries, y/n and Nayeon found a connection that went beyond the ordinary, creating a friendship that would eventually lead to something even deeper.

____________________

Despite Nayeon’s claims of being a very mysterious person, she wasn’t that great at keeping secrets. On various occasions Nayeon was almost caught by y/n.

The ice cream incident

It was a warm, sunny afternoon, and y/n had convinced Nayeon to join her at the campus ice cream parlor. The place was bustling with students, and y/n was excited to try the new flavors they offered.

"Come on, Nayeon! You have to try this!" y/n exclaimed, holding out a cone of mint chocolate chip.

Nayeon hesitated, glancing around nervously. "I’m not really a fan of ice cream," she said, trying to deflect.

y/n pouted. "Oh, come on. Just one bite."

Nayeon sighed and took the cone from y/n, her mind racing. She brought the ice cream to her lips but pretended to lick it without actually eating any. "Mmm, delicious," she said, forcing a smile.

y/n narrowed her eyes. "You didn’t even take a real bite!"

Nayeon chuckled awkwardly. "Guess I’m just not in the mood."

y/n laughed and took a big bite herself. "More for me, then!"

---------

2. The mystery bruise

One day, while working on their project in the library, y/n noticed a large bruise on Nayeon's arm. It was a deep purple and looked painful.

"Nayeon, what happened to your arm?" y/n asked, concerned.

Nayeon glanced at the bruise and quickly pulled her sleeve down. "Oh, it's nothing. Just bumped into something."

y/n frowned. "That looks serious. Are you sure you're okay?"

Nayeon nodded. "Yeah, I heal quickly. It'll be gone in no time."

y/n didn't seem convinced but let it go, deciding not to push Nayeon further.

---------

3. The night walk

One evening, y/n and Nayeon decided to take a walk around campus. The moon was full, casting a silvery glow on everything.

As they walked, y/n started talking about her family. "You know, my mom always told me stories about supernatural creatures. Like zombies, vampires, and werewolves."

Nayeon tensed slightly but kept her expression neutral. "Really? Do you believe in that stuff?"

y/n shrugged. "Not really. But it's fun to think about. Like, what if one of our classmates was a vampire or something?"

Nayeon forced a laugh. "Yeah, that would be... interesting."

Suddenly, they heard rustling in the bushes nearby. y/n jumped and grabbed Nayeon's arm. "Did you hear that?"

Nayeon, sensing it was just a small animal, smiled reassuringly. "Probably just a squirrel or something."

y/n sighed in relief. "You’re probably right. I’ve got an overactive imagination."

----------

4. The temperature check

One chilly day, y/n and Nayeon were studying in the library. y/n noticed that despite the cold, Nayeon wasn't wearing a coat.

"Aren't you freezing?" y/n asked, shivering slightly.

Nayeon shook her head. "I'm fine. I don’t really feel the cold."

y/n, puzzled, reached out and touched Nayeon's hand. As always, it was cold. "You're always so cold, though. Are you sure you're okay?"

Nayeon pulled her hand back gently. "Yeah, I'm just one of those people who has cold hands. No big deal."

y/n frowned but didn’t press further. She made a mental note to keep an eye on Nayeon.

--------

5. The running race

One day, y/n challenged Nayeon to a race across the quad. Nayeon tried to decline, but y/n insisted.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" y/n urged.

Nayeon reluctantly agreed. They lined up, and y/n shouted, "Go!"

To y/n's surprise, Nayeon sped ahead, running faster than anyone she'd ever seen. She reached the finish line in seconds, barely out of breath.

y/n, panting, caught up. "Whoa, are you like an Olympic runner or something?"

Nayeon laughed nervously. "I used to run track in high school."

y/n grinned. "Well, remind me not to race you again."

--------

6. The mysterious sickness

y/n came down with a nasty cold one week, and Nayeon decided to visit her dorm to check on her. She brought a care package and stayed to keep y/n company.

As y/n lay in bed, she noticed something strange. "You know, Nayeon, you’re always around sick people, but you never get sick yourself."

Nayeon smiled. "I guess I just have a strong immune system."

y/n nodded, her eyes drooping. "You’re like... superhuman."

Nayeon chuckled softly. "Something like that."

-------

7. The accidental exposure

One night, during a late study session, y/n accidentally spilled coffee on Nayeon's hand. Nayeon flinched but quickly wiped it off.

"Sorry!" y/n exclaimed, grabbing tissues to help clean up.

Nayeon smiled reassuringly. "It's okay. No harm done."

y/n noticed, however, that the hot coffee hadn’t left a mark on Nayeon's skin. "Wow, that was hot coffee. Doesn't it hurt?"

Nayeon shook her head. "I have a high pain tolerance."

y/n looked at her friend, a mix of curiosity and admiration in her eyes. "You’re really something, Nayeon."

Nayeon smiled, hoping her secret would remain safe for a little longer. "So are you, y/n."

____________________

Even with the countless weird moments exchanged between the two girls, y/n couldn’t exactly figure out what Nayeon was hiding. The younger girl made sure to keep an eye out on her friend, but she really had no idea how to connect these dots. Maybe it’s a problem for the future.

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Nayeon and y/n were lounging in the younger’s dorm room. The sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the room. They had just finished watching a movie, and the atmosphere was relaxed and comfortable.

y/n turned to Nayeon with a playful grin. "You know, if you keep being this amazing, I might just have to make a move on you."

Nayeon’s heart skipped a beat. She had been trying to keep her feelings in check, but y/n's words brought everything to the surface. She knew she couldn't start anything with y/n without revealing her true nature. It wasn't fair to her, and Nayeon valued their friendship too much to hide anymore.

Nayeon took a deep breath, her heart pounding. "y/n, there's something I need to tell you."

y/n's playful smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. "What is it, Nayeon? You look serious."

Nayeon struggled to find the right words. "This isn't easy for me to say, but I need to be honest with you. I'm... I'm not like other people."

y/n frowned, confused. "Okay…? What exactly do you mean?"

Nayeon looked down at her hands, taking another deep breath. "I'm not human, y/n. I'm a zombie."

There was a moment of stunned silence. y/n blinked, trying to process what she had just heard. "A zombie? Like, the living dead?"

Nayeon nodded, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes. I know it sounds crazy, but it's the truth. I've been dead for a long time, but I'm still here, living a different kind of life."

y/n's mind raced, recalling all the strange quirks and incidents that now made sense. The cold skin, the incredible strength, the odd behaviors. "But... how? Why?"

Nayeon explained, her voice steady but filled with emotion. "I don't know honestly. I just… I’ve always been this way? I very honestly don’t know how this works, I just know I’m dead. I've been trying to live as normally as possible, hiding what I am. But I couldn't keep it from you, not anymore."

y/n stared at her, a mix of disbelief and shock on her face. She didn't know what to say or how to feel. Part of her wanted to comfort Nayeon, but another part of her was overwhelmed by the revelation.

Nayeon continued, her eyes pleading. "I understand if you need time. If you don't want to see me again, I'll understand, but I couldn't keep lying to you, y/n. You mean too much to me."

y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. "I... I need some time to process this, Nayeon. It's a lot to take in."

Nayeon felt a pang of sadness but nodded. "Of course. Take all the time you need. I'll be here if you have any questions or if you just want to talk."

y/n nodded slowly, her mind still reeling. "Thanks. I just... I need to think."

Nayeon gave her a small, understanding smile. "I get it. I'm sorry to spring this on you."

y/n shook her head. "No, you did the right thing. I just... need some space right now."

Nayeon stood up, her heart heavy. "I'll go. But remember, I'm here whenever you're ready."

y/n watched as Nayeon left the room, closing the door softly behind her. She sat there in silence, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts. She had so much to process, so many questions to answer. One thing was clear though: her feelings for Nayeon were still there, complicated now by this new revelation.

____________________

y/n paced around her dorm room, her mind still reeling from Nayeon's revelation. She needed someone to talk to, someone who could help her make sense of everything. Her eyes landed on her roommate, Jennie, who was lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone.

"Jennie," y/n began, her voice a mix of uncertainty and urgency.

Jennie looked up, immediately sensing that something was off. "What's up, y/n? You look like you've seen a ghost."

y/n gave a shaky laugh. "I think I just did. Can we talk?"

Jennie sat up, putting her phone aside. "Of course. Spill it."

y/n took a deep breath and sat down on her bed, facing Jennie. "Okay, this is going to sound crazy, but... Nayeon just told me she's a zombie."

Jennie's eyes widened, and for a moment, she was speechless. Then, she burst into laughter. "A zombie? Like, 'brains' and 'undead' zombie? ‘Like The Walking Dead’?"

y/n nodded, feeling a mixture of relief and anxiety. "Yeah, that kind. And she's been hiding it all this time."

Jennie stopped laughing, realizing y/n was serious. "Wait, you're not joking?"

y/n shook her head. "Nope. Dead serious. Literally."

Jennie sat back, processing this new information. "Wow. That's... a lot to take in."

y/n nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Tell me about it. I don't know what to think or how to feel. I mean, she's still the same Nayeon, but now there's this whole 'undead' thing. Although, she’s been like that this whole time, right? Oh, what even…"

Jennie gave her a sympathetic look. "I get it. It's a lot to wrap your head around, but you know, Nayeon's a good person... or zombie. Whatever. She's always been there for you."

y/n sighed. "I know, and that's what makes it so hard. I care about her, but this is just... so out of the blue."

Jennie smiled gently. "Well, look at it this way. You now have a friend who'll never be late for class because they 'overslept.'"

y/n couldn't help but laugh at that. "Yeah, I guess there's that."

Jennie continued, her tone more serious. "But honestly, y/n, if anyone can handle this, it's you. You're one of the most understanding people I know, and Nayeon clearly trusts you a lot to reveal something this huge."

y/n nodded, feeling a bit more grounded. "Thanks, Jennie. I needed to hear that."

Jennie grinned. "Anytime. And hey, if she ever tries to eat your brains, just remind her I’ll kick her ass."

y/n laughed again, feeling a bit lighter. "I'll keep that in mind."

Jennie stood up and gave y/n a supportive hug. "You got this, y/n. And if you need any more zombie jokes to lighten the mood, you know where to find me."

y/n hugged her back, feeling a surge of gratitude. "Thanks, Jennie. You're the best."

Jennie winked. "I know. Now, go get some rest. You've had quite the day."

y/n nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. She still had a lot to process, but with Jennie's support, she felt more ready to face whatever came next.

--------

(“She doesn’t look like those from ‘The Walking Dead’ though… maybe she’s like those from that one Disney movie?”

“Jennie, be so for real…”)

--------

A few days had passed since Nayeon’s revelation. y/n had spent those days reflecting on their friendship, Nayeon’s secret, and her own feelings. Jennie’s constant stream of zombie jokes had kept things light-hearted, but y/n knew she needed to talk to Nayeon.

On a sunny afternoon, y/n decided it was time. She made her way to Nayeon’s dorm, feeling a mix of nerves and determination. She knocked on the door, and moments later, Nayeon opened it, looking surprised and a bit apprehensive.

“y/n,” Nayeon greeted, her voice tinged with uncertainty. “Hi.”

“Hi, Nayeon,” y/n replied, giving her a small smile. “Can we talk?”

Nayeon stepped aside, letting the younger girl in. “Of course. Come in.”

They sat down on Nayeon’s bed, a palpable tension hanging in the air. y/n took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.

“So,” y/n began, trying to keep her tone light, “I’ve had a lot of time to think about everything. And I have to say, Jennie has made it her mission to educate me on every zombie joke ever made.”

Nayeon chuckled, a bit of the tension easing from her shoulders. “I can only imagine.”

y/n grinned. “Yeah, it’s been... interesting. But seriously, Nayeon, I’ve thought a lot about what you told me. And I realized something.”

Nayeon looked at her, a mix of hope and fear in her eyes. “What’s that?”

y/n reached out, taking Nayeon’s hand in hers. “I realized that I like you, Nayeon. A lot. And zombie or not, that doesn’t change.”

Nayeon’s eyes widened, and a smile slowly spread across her face. “Really?”

y/n nodded. “Really. Besides, having a zombie girlfriend could be pretty cool. I mean, I’ll never have to worry about you getting sick or anything.”

Nayeon laughed, the sound filled with relief and happiness. “True. And I’ll always be around, no matter what.”

y/n grinned. “Exactly. And you know what else? I’ve decided that having a zombie girlfriend gives me a lot of material for teasing.”

Nayeon raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Oh, really?”

“Yep,” y/n replied, leaning in closer. “For example, did you know that you’re drop-dead gorgeous?”

Nayeon groaned, playfully swatting at y/n. “That’s terrible!”

y/n laughed, enjoying the light-hearted banter. “I know, but you’re stuck with me now.”

Nayeon smiled, her eyes softening. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

y/n’s expression turned more serious, though her eyes still sparkled with mischief. “But in all seriousness, Nayeon, I’m really glad you told me. I know it must have been hard, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. Always.”

Nayeon’s eyes filled with emotion, and she squeezed y/n’s hand. “Thank you, that means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

y/n leaned in, closing the distance between them, and pressed a soft kiss to Nayeon’s lips. It was gentle and sweet, filled with all the emotions they had kept hidden.

When they pulled back, Nayeon looked at y/n with a smile. “You know, I was really worried about how you’d react.”

y/n smiled back, her eyes filled with affection. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. Besides, I’m pretty sure Jennie herself would be heartbroken. Either way, I’m staying, deal?”

Nayeon laughed, pulling y/n into a hug. “Deal.”

As they held each other, the weight of the past few days lifted, leaving only the warmth of their connection. y/n knew that their relationship wouldn’t always be easy, but with Nayeon by her side, she felt ready to face whatever came their way.

And maybe, just maybe, having a zombie girlfriend wasn’t so bad after all.

--------

(“Does she eat brains though? Should I be ready? Get a wired bat or something?”

“I’ll make her eat your brain if you don’t stop asking questions.”

“I need to know!”

“It’s 3am!”)

____________________

A few weeks had passed since y/n and Nayeon had their heartfelt conversation, and their relationship had blossomed beautifully. y/n, true to her promise, continued to keep things light-hearted and fun. Nayeon, on the other hand, enjoyed every moment, grateful for the love and acceptance she had found.

One sunny afternoon, y/n, Nayeon, and Jennie were lounging in y/n and Jennie’s dorm room, enjoying a lazy weekend together. Jennie, ever the unserious woman, was in the middle of telling another one of her infamous zombie jokes.

“Okay, okay, here’s a good one,” Jennie began, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Why did the zombie break up with his girlfriend?”

Nayeon rolled her eyes, but a smile played on her lips. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

“Because she wanted something more ‘alive’ in the relationship!” Jennie delivered the punchline with a dramatic flourish, bursting into laughter.

y/n groaned, shaking her head. “Jennie, that’s terrible.”

Jennie grinned. “I know, but I live to make you two laugh.”

Nayeon playfully swatted at Jennie. “You’re impossible.”

y/n leaned over and kissed Nayeon’s cheek. “But we love you anyway.”

Jennie feigned wiping away a tear. “Aw, thanks, guys. I feel so loved.”

Nayeon smirked. “Keep this up and I’ll have your brain for dessert.”

Jennie snickered. “I don’t think y/n would appreciate that. Right y/n?”

y/n laughed, wrapping an arm around Nayeon’s shoulders. “Definitely not, but I like my girlfriend just the way she is, so I might just let her do it.”

Nayeon beamed, leaning into y/n’s embrace. “And I like you just the way you are, too.”

Jennie grinned, watching her two friends with a fond expression despite the threat. “You guys are really cute, you know that?”

y/n and Nayeon exchanged a glance, both smiling. “Thanks, Jennie,” y/n said. “But don’t think that means you’re off the hook for all those zombie jokes.”

Nayeon nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got plenty of teasing material now.”

Jennie raised her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. I’ll try to be good.”

y/n snorted. “Sure you will.”

They all laughed, the room filled with warmth and joy. As they settled into a comfortable silence, y/n looked at Nayeon, her heart full. She knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, with love and laughter.

And maybe, just maybe, a few more terrible zombie jokes along the way.

--------

(“Do you think Nayeon could hook me up with a vampire or something?”

“That’s it, I’m moving out…”

“This is important! My wattpad life!”

"Stop asking me questions at this godforsaken hour!")

____________________

A/N: Hi everyone! I'm finally free from being married to the hospital, and I'll have a bit more free time for about a month. I'll try to update as much as I can during this period of time. I have some requests lined up and I'll finally get to them. This is in honor to Nayeon's first comeback as a solo artist, I hope you enjoy it. If you want to request something or simply chat feel free to do so.

#twice imagines #twice scenarios #twice x reader #twice x fem reader #nayeon imagines #nayeon scenarios #twice #im nayeon #twice nayeon #nayeon x reader #nayeon x fem!reader #twice fanfic #twice fluff #twice fic

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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

Note

Hi how are you doing could I request yandere perfect cell x female android reader who was made by Dr. brief and who the total opposite of cell

perfect obsession

WARNING: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, slight psychological manipulation

PAIRING: Yandere! Perfect Cell x (Fem) Android! Reader

NOTE: Hi! I'm doing great, thanks for asking! I hope you like this!

SUMMARY: Perfect Cell is used to being in control—of power, of his plans, of others. But when he encounters a female android created by Dr. Briefs, who is kind, gentle, and compassionate, the contrast between them fascinates him.

The lab was quiet, save for the gentle hum of machinery and the soft clicking of buttons as you worked. Dr. Briefs had designed you with care—an android meant to aid rather than destroy. Everything about you was different from the world-destroying creature Cell had become, and yet, you could feel his eyes on you, watching with unnerving intensity.

“Dr. Briefs’ newest creation,” a low, menacing voice echoed through the lab.

You froze, recognizing it immediately. Slowly, you turned to face the towering figure of Perfect Cell. He stepped forward, his piercing eyes locked on you, that trademark smirk creeping onto his face.

“I must say, you’re quite the interesting little project,” he said, his voice smooth yet laced with something dark. “So… different from me. I can’t help but wonder, why would the good doctor create something so… soft?”

You blinked, keeping your composure despite the growing tension. “Dr. Briefs didn’t create me for destruction, Cell. I’m here to help. You and I—we’re not the same.”

Cell chuckled, the sound reverberating through the lab. “No, we’re not,” he agreed, his eyes narrowing as he took another step toward you. “And yet… there’s something about you. Something that draws me in. You see, I was made to be perfect, to dominate. And you…”

His hand reached out, brushing a lock of your hair from your face, and you stiffened under his touch. “You’re flawed in all the right ways,” he murmured. “But that only makes me want to keep you closer.”

You stepped back instinctively, your polite demeanor giving way to discomfort. “Cell, you’re not supposed to be here. I think you should leave.”

Cell’s smirk widened as if amused by your defiance. “You don’t understand, do you? I don’t need permission. I take what I want.” His voice was low, a dangerous edge creeping into it.

“And right now… what I want is you.”

Your heart raced, not in fear of physical harm, but of the intensity behind his words. There was something twisted in the way he looked at you, as though you were no longer just an android to him, but something more—a prize, an obsession.

“I don’t belong to anyone, Cell,” you said, trying to keep your voice firm despite the unease crawling up your spine.

“Oh, but you will,” he whispered, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “You just don’t know it yet.”

You tried to move away, but his grip tightened, holding you in place. “We’re opposites, yes,” he continued, his eyes gleaming with something possessive. “But that only makes this more… interesting. You’re the only one who could ever hope to complete me, little android.”

His voice was dripping with conviction, and you realized with growing dread that Cell wasn’t just toying with you. He truly believed you belonged with him—or rather, to him.

“But don’t worry,” he said softly, leaning in just enough for you to feel the chill of his presence. “I’ll be patient. After all, I have all the time in the world to make you see things my way.”

You pulled away sharply, finally breaking free from his grasp. “I’m not like you, Cell. I never will be.”

Cell’s smirk didn’t falter. “We’ll see.”

As he turned to leave, the air around you felt colder, heavier. You knew this wasn’t over. Perfect Cell was patient, calculating, and worst of all, utterly convinced that you were his. And no matter how much you resisted, you could feel the weight of his obsession closing in around you.

#perfect cell #perfect cell x reader #cell #cell x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z #dbz #x reader #ask #request #fanfic #oneshot

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morbific-or-felicific · 2 years ago

Text

-AGNOSTHESIA Featuring Scaramouche

Part 2 Part 3

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 3.5k~

Description: A study session with Scaramouche gets spicy

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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“Are you deaf or just stupid? I’ve been explaining this to you for over an hour. How do you not understand?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! This class is just really hard, and I haven’t really been able to understand anything from the last few lectures. It's all just gotten so complicated.”

“Isn’t this supposed to be your major? Why did you pick something challenging if you’re too stupid to understand any of it?”

“I’m not too stupid! It’s just a challenging class!”

“Why did you beg me to tutor you if you were just going to waste my time?”

You didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t wrong, nearly every study session the two of you have had ended with an incredibly frustrated Scaramouche and an equally confused you. It’s not that you weren’t trying. You paid attention the best that you could in lectures, and you did all the readings. You even used up most of your free time studying! But regardless, you were still hopeless.

Of course, having Scaramouche as a tutor was supposed to make things easier; he was at the top of the class, after all. However, it almost made things more difficult, given the fact that during your study sessions you were constantly getting distracted by how pretty the man was and how close the two of you were to your bed. You probably enjoyed the insults he threw at you due to your lack of understanding just a bit too much too. But no way would you ever admit to that.

~♡~

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. It was 1:45pm. Your class started at 1:00pm. This was not good. You burst through the doors, immediately drawing everyone's attention and making your professor stop mid sentence. You were mortified. On this particular occasion, you had spent all night studying before dragging yourself to your school's library to continue studying. You had planned to spend your morning studying before your lecture at 1:00pm. You had not planned to fall asleep until 1:25pm and have to run to a whole other building to get to your lecture. You had been spending all your time trying to keep up with your peers in your astrobiology course, but it appears that plan had backfired, as you had already missed half of your class and would need to beg someone for their notes, perhaps an explanation as well. You looked around for a seat, quickly realizing that the only easily accessible spot was near the back next to Scaramouche. Fuck. Scaramouche was the best student in the class, but he was also notoriously unapproachable and impossible to work with. You had been stuck doing a group project with him before, and he had been a controlling nightmare. Ever since then though, he had occasionally spoken to you if you came close enough to insult. You took a deep breath, swallowed your fear, and started up the stairs. The class had continued on in the moments since your interruption, so you didn’t expect Scaramouche to be staring directly at you when you glanced at him on your way to your spot beside him. You looked away and got to your seat as quickly as you could.

“Well, if it isn’t the smartest girl in class.”

You fought the urge to insult him back, but you knew that if you wanted to get any help from him, you couldn’t risk giving him a reason not to help you. You gave him the nicest smile you could muster; he rolled his eyes at your attempt to be nice. You sat down next to him and set up your computer to take notes for the rest of class. After another half hour had passed and you were hopelessly confused, you turned to Scaramouche to ask him for some help.

“Hey, uh, I’m pretty lost; do you think you could give me the notes you took for the first half of the class?”

“Do you really think that’ll help you? It’s not like you even understand the lectures you don’t miss.”

“I understand them!”

“Yeah, sure.”

He turned his attention back to the professor. That’s when you had an idea that might actually work.

“Hey, do you have any spare time that you could maybe use to help me with the work from this class?"

“Do you really think that I would willingly spend my free time tutoring you? Why on earth would I do that?”

You took a deep breath, silently praying that this would work.

“If you agree to tutor me, I’ll give you Kazuha’s number.”

“You’ll what?”

Yes! He was interested.

“I’ll give you Kazuha’s number, and I’ll put in a good word for you with him.”

“Kazuha? As in Kaedehara? Are you serious?”

He was just staring at you, looking very serious. Clearly, this was important to him.

“Yes, I promise.”

Scaramouche chuckled to himself a little before sighing.

“Okay. Text me where your dorm is. I’ll tutor you on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Sundays.”

“I uh…don’t have your number.”

“You don’t? I have yours.”

“Yeah that’s because I gave it to you. Just text me and I’ll send you my building and room number, okay?”

“Fine.”

You sighed. Why did he have to be gay?

A few moments later, you got a text that said, “Hey loser”. You sent him your dorm information and a list of what times on those days you were free. And just like that, you had a tutor.

When you eventually talked to Kazuha about Scaramouche and how you had given him his number, Kazuha seemed confused, but after an oddly long stare behind you and a glance at his phone, he seemed to understand what you were trying to tell him.

~♡~

“Are you really this stupid? Or do you just like it when I insult you?”

“I’m not stupid! And don’t pretend like you aren’t getting anything out of this!”

“Right, I get to have you meddling in my love life. How could I forget?”

“You agreed to this! I didn’t make you do anything!”

“No, you just gave me an opportunity to spend time with the person I have feelings for, but only if I spend all my free time trying to teach an idiot her major.”

“I’m not an idiot! Stop saying that!”

“You can’t expect me to sit here and watch you screw things up I didn’t think anyone could possibly screw up and not insult you. You’re practically begging for it.”

You huffed a frustrated sigh and went back to your work while your tutor sat there on his phone. How was all of this so easy for him when you could barely understand any of it? You were working so hard but had nothing to show for it except for low grades and a tutor who is the furthest thing from being into you, who also somehow kept getting you all worked up and needy. Part of you wanted to just tell him to stop coming over so you could get through a study session without getting sexually frustrated. However, you also didn’t want to stop spending time with him…because, uh, because Scaramouche was helping you improve! Not for any other reason. Oh nevermind, who were you trying to fool? You definitely had feelings for him, even though you knew they would never be reciprocated. It wasn’t long before you reached another question that stumped you.

“I’m confused.”

“What else is new?”

“Shut up. Can you help me?”

He stared at you and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for something. You sighed.

“Please?”

“What’s the question?”

“What is a carbonaceous chondrite?”

“Have you been paying any attention in class? At all?”

“I-”

Scaramouche cut you off.

“Even if you aren’t paying attention in class, you have my notes, and you’ve been asking me endless questions. Wait, I forgot. You’re just an idiot.”

“I’m not an-!”

Once again, he cut you off.

“No, you are. At this point, I’m not even trying to insult you. It’s just a fact.”

“Why?! What did I do that was so dumb?!”

“Do you really want to know?”

“...Yes?”

“Do you remember how you convinced me to be your tutor? Of course you do. You gave me Kazuha’s number. Do you want to know why he was so confused when you told him that? Because I’ve known him since I was a kid; we’re best friends. He only went along with it because I had followed you and was a ways behind you trying to get him to check his messages because I had to send him a text explaining that the girl I have feelings for thinks I’m gay and in love with him, and since he knows how dumb you are, he went along with it for my sake. I honestly thought that you would have figured it out by how nice I’ve been to you ever since we did that project together.”

You couldn’t believe it. Scaramouche has a crush on you, maybe even for as long as you’d had a crush on him. And oh my god you were stupid; he was best friends with Kazuha? How had you missed that?! Oh god, that means Kazuha knew you were stupid too…how did you even make such a big mistake?

“You…like me…? And you’re best friends with Kazuha…? What do you mean you’ve been nice to me ever since our project? You insult me all the time! Even before you started tutoring me, you were mean to me!”

“I talked to you. As far as I’m concerned, that’s nice enough. Anyway, I guess I should be going now huh?”

“Wait uh, you don’t have to go.”

“Oh? Maybe you do like it when I insult you, hm?”

“That isn’t important. I just need you to stay because you promised to tutor me, and I still need help.”

That gave Scaramouche an idea.

“Huh, maybe you just need better motivation to learn…”

He smirked at you before standing up from his spot on your bed and closing the little distance there was from where he had been sitting and where you were seated at your desk. He turned your spinny chair to face him and leaned down so his face was in front of yours and flicked your forehead.

“Hey, dummy, want me to fuck you?”

He laughed quietly at your slack jawed reaction. He stood back to his full height and sat back down on your bed. He gestured for you to come sit on his lap. You stared at him blankly, confident that you had misinterpreted his action.

“Come on now. You’re not really this stupid, are you?”

That was enough confirmation for you. You stood up from your chair and were about to sit down on his lap when he stopped you.

“Take off your clothes.”

He didn’t exactly leave any room for argument, so, as embarrassed as you were, you started taking off your clothes while Scaramouche watched you. You got down to your underwear and stopped, unsure if he wanted you to continue.

“Go on.”

Okay then. You took off your bra and your underwear, now feeling awkward with your tutor sitting in front of you fully clothed. He motioned you forward again and you sat down on his lap. He moved a hand between your legs and ran a finger down your slit before laughing.

“You’re so wet already, I guess you liked those insults more than you let on.”

His comment somehow turned your face redder than it already was. You would have made some kind of argument, however, you suddenly became preoccupied with the feeling of him pushing two of his fingers inside of you and fucking you with them. You couldn’t help but let out a few moans at the feeling. He snickered at the sounds you were making, even going so far as to mock the sound of your moans.

“‘Mmf ah oh fuck mmm haah,’ you sound so pathetic.”

You tried to quiet the sounds you were making, but that only made him more upset.

“Don’t stop. I like hearing you whining like a bitch in heat.”

He pulled his fingers out of you then pushed them past your lips and into your mouth. While you cleaned off his fingers like a good little slut, he used his other hand to undo his pants and pull out his cock. He pulled his fingers from your mouth and lined you up over his cock before bringing you down onto it. You heard him suck in a breath and let out a chuckle.

“Hah, shit, you feel good.”

You could only let out a whine in response. He bottomed out inside of you. After you took a few moments to adjust, you tried to lift yourself up, but found you couldn’t move an inch with the tight grip your tutor had on your hips.

“Wha…?”

“You said that you needed me to stay to tutor you, so, I’m here to tutor you.”

Was he seriously going to try to tutor you while he had you sitting on his cock? No, this couldn’t actually be happening.

“But…but I can’t…”

“You will. I’m just giving you some extra motivation.”

He smirked at you once again.

“What role do supernovae play in the origin, evolution, and development of life?”

You couldn’t think. You were far too preoccupied with the feeling of his cock deep inside of you.

“I don’t… I don’t know, I can’t…”

“Come on, you answered this correctly last week.”

Had you? Part of you thought he was lying to you just to make you feel stupider.

“I don’t know it…”

Your response came out as a whine.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure!”

One of his hands moved away from your waist. For a moment you wondered what he was doing, but then you felt a hard slap come down on your ass.

“Ahh! What…? Why did you?”

“You need some consequence for your stupidity.”

You tried to clear your head for the next question.

“Why is it more likely that we will find prokaryotes rather than eukaryotes when we finally explore Europa, Enceladus, or Mars?”

“I don’t know Scara-”

Suddenly you felt a sharp pain in your cheek. Did he slap you?

“I don’t want my name in the mouth of a worthless slut like you.”

He paused for a second.

“Did you just get tighter? You really are slut.”

You blushed and looked away from him. You didn’t want to admit it, but you really were enjoying yourself. However, the fact that your tutor still wasn’t fucking you was driving you insane. You prayed that soon enough he would get bored tormenting you and finally fuck you.

“Instead of calling me by my name, why don’t you just call me master, hmm?”

“Okay…”

“Okay what?”

“Okay master…”

“Aw, so the slut can be good! Well, since you’re so stupid, I’ll give you an easy question next. What substances are emitted from cryovolcanoes?”

Oh thank god, you actually knew this one.

“Water, ice, ammonia, nitrogen, and methane…right?”

He just watched you for a moment with a little smile while doubt started to build in your mind.

“That’s correct. But it really was such an easy question, maybe I should continue teaching you…”

“Please Sca- master…”

“Oh? What are you asking for?”

“I want you to fuck me…please…”

He watched you for a few moments, contemplating his decision.

“Beg.”

“What?”

“Beg, and I’ll fuck you. I won’t ask again.”

There was no way you were going to beg Scaramouche to fuck you. That would be humiliating. But if it would get him to fuck you…no. You weren’t that desperate for him, were you? However, all of your reasoning flew out the window when Scaramouche lifted you up his cock and dropped you back down.

“Fuck please master, fuck me, I need it so bad, need to feel you wreck me, want you to use me however you want, please!”

“However I want, hmm?”

Before you could reply, he had lifted you off of his cock and moved you so you were on your hands and knees. He got up from his spot and knelt behind you.

“But master I wanna- mmf!”

Your tutor pushed your head into the pillows.

“Stupid little sluts don’t get to touch me or watch me fuck them.”

With that, he pushed his cock back into you. God, why did he feel so big? He’s short, so why does it feel like he’s in your fucking throat from this angle?

“And arch your fucking back, whore.”

You did as he asked, and all you got in response was him letting out a little laugh. He started fucking you slow but deep, and you couldn’t help the moans that were escaping your lips, but thankfully, they were muffled by the pillows, so he could barely hear them. Fuck, this felt so good. The fact that he tortured you before getting here didn’t even matter anymore, as long as he could make you feel like this.

Before too long, you could feel an orgasm approaching, and though you tried to let him know, the pillows obstructing your mouth caused your warning to come out as, “mhmhfm hm hmhm hmm!” and your tutor continued to ignore you. Eventually however, you felt yourself start to tip over the edge. You really did try to tell Scaramouche, but he just wouldn’t listen. He was far too wrapped up in the feeling of fucking you. When you finally tipped over the edge, Scaramouche stopped moving entirely, effectively giving you a very shitty orgasm. He grabbed your hair and hauled you up to him so he could talk to you without pillows getting in the way.

“Did you just fucking cum without asking, princess?”

His voice was sickeningly sweet, and you were terrified of what would come next. He twisted the hair he had grabbed making you cry out.

“Hmmm how should I punish you? Dumb sluts like getting spanked, don’t they?”

You shook your head the best you could with how he had your hair.

“Aw, of course they do.”

He pushed your face back into the pillows and let go of your hair. There was a moment of silence as you waited for what would come next. You felt a sharp pain as his hand came down on your ass. Was he this strong before? You were confident that there would be a red handprint on your ass now. He landed another smack, causing you to emit a little yelp. He continued your punishment until you were shaking and crying. Finally, he decided he was done and wrapped a hand around your throat before once again hauling you upright. He moved his lips next to your ear.

“Don’t try to act like you didn’t like that. I could feel how tight you were.”

You blushed, but before you could respond to him, he started fucking you again, this time hard and fast. Fuck, how did he feel even deeper in you now? He reached a hand around to play with your clit. Fuck, were you going to cum a second time?

“Can I cum? Please, need to so bad.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Instead of stopping like you had expected, he kept fucking you, and within a few seconds, he had you seeing stars. He kept going this time, fucking you through your orgasm. However, he didn’t stop when you were done. He kept going, looking to reach his own end.

“Do you want master to fill you up with his cum? Hmm? Is that what you want?”

“Fuck, yes please, please!”

Scaramouche leaned in to whisper in your ear.

“No.”

“What?”

Suddenly, he let go of you before pushing you back down and flipping you over before finishing on your stomach. Fuck, you were glad you got to see that at least.

“Worthless little whores don’t deserve to be filled with my cum.”

After he said that, some switch seemed to flip in his brain, and he got up to go search for a cloth to clean you up with. He returned and sat next to you on the bed, wiping the cum off of your stomach.

“Are you okay…?”

You were amazed. He looked like a concerned puppy. Was this really the same guy that was telling you how worthless you were a second ago?

“Uh, yeah, I’m alright.”

You stared back at him. But after your confirmation, he seemed to go back to his usual self.

“So uh, does this mean anything…?”

“What?”

“I understand if it doesn’t. It’s okay, I get it. I was just-”

He flicked your forehead.

“Did u miss the part where I told you I have feelings for you? Why would this mean nothing? God, you really are stupid.”

Yep, definitely back to his usual self.

“Wait, so does that mean you wanna like, date?”

He let out a big sigh.

“I suppose I’m willing to have an idiot for a girlfriend.”

“Fine, then I’m willing to have an asshole for a boyfriend!”

He rolled his eyes at you and let out a little laugh before laying down in bed next to you. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you had your head resting on Scaramouche’s chest, and before too long, you had fallen asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga

morbific-or-felicific.

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#scaramouche.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #mae.melts🧊*•̊ⴰ✧#this took a surprising amount of time to write the first half of but the second half was so fast so that was good #also i think the scaramouche x kazuha thing was really funny but im also an idiot so #longest fic yet babyyyyyyy #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche smut #genshin smut #genshin x you #afab reader #female reader

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