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weekend-nathan · 19 days ago

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Part 5: I don't like poetry

"Finally, I will really get to know you, Sam, Nathan's mom tells me. He talked a lot about you. But to start, my name is Anne, you can call me that."

Anne seems cool, and not at all like I had imagined.

"Okay, Anne."

"So we will spend a few days together and get to know each other. But did Nathan explain to you a little bit how things work here?"

"How does it work?"

"Already having an older brother."

"Oh yes, he told me a few minutes ago."

"Nathan is quite secretive about that. You'll see, Valentin is very nice, you just have to respect a few rules with him. You shouldn't be scared even though he may act in a surprising way."

"Understood."

"There are also rules concerning those who live here, whether it is on a regular or temporary basis. If you respect them, there will be no problem and we will all have a good weekend together."

"Ok... I say somewhat reassured."

Rules, I hate that. It's Thursday, so I have three days and nights to spend here, I hope it won't be too long. Well, already tomorrow is school, so that's one less day. I hope Nathan won't make us go home right after school ends anyway.

"Well, we'll talk about all this later. I'll prepare dinner. Nathan, help Sam bring his things to your room and do your homework. I'll check on you later."

Anne leaves and Nathan and I go up with my bags. I enter his room and I discover that it is very well organized, everything has a place and there is a place for everything.

"Wow, it's really tidy here. You should see mine..."

"Mom is pretty strict about that, but also about a bunch of other things."

I listen absentmindedly and continue my observations. There is a double bed but I can see that a mattress has been set up next to it, most likely for me. Nathan also has a large shelf filled with books. However, I do not see a console, computer, or television. Nathan is not any luckier than me on that.

"What were you saying? I say."

"I'm not sure if you made the best choice coming to sleep here this weekend."

"Why do you say that? I say very surprised. I thought you would be happy to spend time together. Anyway, I'm super happy."

"You know, it's not like home here. When my mom says there are rules, there really are, and it's better to follow them or else..."

"Or else what?"

"Or else there are punishments... By the way, we should start doing our homework."

Nathan sits at his desk and seems to continue what he was apparently doing before he came down to greet me.

"What do we have to do for tomorrow? I ask."

"We have a mini math quiz on how to write numbers in letters. And in French we also have a poem to recite, you know the one with lines in alexandrine."

Oh bother, I don't like math or poetry. Nathan is focused and I try to do the same. I sit on his bed with my poem on my knees. It's been a while since the teacher gave it to us but I kept thinking I had time and finally... I don't have it anymore, it's for tomorrow.

I've always had trouble with rote learning. Well, let's say I know it. As for mathematics, it's more like French so I should be able to manage without having to review.

I get up and start approaching the toys in Nathan's room. I realize there aren't that many.

"No, those are clothes there, Nathan shouts as I go to open a small closet."

"You don't have many toys, I say."

"We mostly play with Valentin's games, they are mostly in his room. Have you finished learning your poem and revising your math?"

"Yeah, more or less."

"You know mom is going to quiz us."

"I'll read my poem while you recite yours. And anyway, your mother won't grade me."

"It's up to you."

"What do you think of Clotilde by the way? I think she's really cute. I feel like she likes me. Have you noticed how she looks at me in gym class?"

"Sam, if you don't mind, we'll discuss that later, I need to finish learning the poem."

"Yes, sorry, I'm bothering you."

While Nathan learns his poem, I take out my sketchbook and draw, or rather doodle a few characters. It relaxes me and I think I'm not so bad at it, even the art teacher told me so.

A little later, Anne enters the room.

"Are you ready to recite your poem, boys?"

"I don't know it all yet, Mom, but the teacher said we only needed to learn half of it for now."

"What the teacher asks is one thing, what I ask of you is another. And yesterday, did I not ask you to learn it all for tonight?"

"Yes but..."

"What but? Anne says, cutting him off."

"Nothing, sorry mom, Nathan responds handing his notebook to his mother"

Oh my, it's not like at home here... I quickly grab my own notebook and start rereading the poem while Nathan starts reciting:

"Tonight, the sky growled like an old mastiff

The park was deserted, slide without children

And the tall basketball baskets haloed,

Thin, hunched, watched over like streetlights.

Animated by the wind, the dangerous sharks

Repainted on worn spring swings

Creaked... And lingering, from port to starboard

They danced, crazy like the pendulum of time..."

"And the rest? Anne asks."

"I haven't had time yet mom..."

"Okay. The punishment is not lifted then, in fact I think it will be extended."

"Oh no mom, please, Sam is at home!"

"Whether Sam is there or not, it won't change anything. Keep going and I'll give you another one immediately."

Nathan goes silent. I saw his face fall when his mother told him his punishment was not over. I wonder what it is.

"Your turn, Sam, recite your poem to me."

"I don't know it very well..."

"Go ahead, I'm listening. You must still know it to be drawing on your notebook instead of learning it."

"Uh... yes, well kind of..."

"Tonight, the sky growled like an old mastiff

The park was deserted..."

"And the rest? Anne asks me."

"I don't know it..."

"I can see that, Sam. It's not good to do something other than your homework when it's not finished."

"But I don't like poetry. I can't remember them, I've always had trouble."

"Let's move on, it's your problem after all. Come down to eat, it's ready."

I can see that Nathan's mom is upset, but I think it's more about him than me.

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atangledfate · 2 months ago

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People always assumed Jet wasn't intelligent, or got the wrong idea about his abilities. They sometimes forget that he was fully capable of leveling Sonic if he wanted to. The two were closer in skill and talent then most gave him credit for. A fact that annoyed the Hawk to no end, really it just pissed him off more. More then anything Jet wanted that recognition! That's why he needed this grand prix! to finally silence the nay sayers--- kicking clutch in the teeth was just a bonus!

" OH you want me to cause a ruckus? make a scene? Well i think i can manage that! "

Jet stood up from his chair and placed a finger on the com button

" Eggman, and Clutch huh? maybe he'll off that old man--- or vice versa! don't worry bout metal! if he Shows his face i'll remind everyone why i'm the Legendary Wind Maser! an you'd do well to remember it! If anyone in this world can take Sonic down! it's me after all! "

As full of himself as he was, and maybe a boasting a bit to much he'd do his part if only to stick it to clutch and sonic both! he'd be the one saving everyone! people would remember HIM as the hero! and plus he still owed eggman a kick in the teeth for the first grand prix! he'd make short work of things and the people would adore him for it!

" Wave, Storm, meet me in the hanger--- we gotta bail the restoration losers out again! "

Jet snatched his Bashosen fans from the wall and, and made his way toward the Hanger--- this was gonna finally put Sonic in his place! and cement himself as the real star of this grand prix!

================================================

The chief rubbed his shoulder wondering if it was wise to enlist the Rogues. He wasn't convinced they meant well and certainly weren't doing any of this for the right reasons. Yet he hoped they would do there part, as he crossed his big arms and stared at the screen looking more concerned.

" Do you think that was a good idea involving those three? they are criminals you know... i just hope they don't mess things up..."

The Golden Tenrec even looked somewhat unsure as she looked at Belle wondering if the Chief was right. But deep down she trusted belle and seemed to take a more confident stance. Based on his personality Jet wanted the Glory, and reputation so failing wouldn't work in his favor.

" It'd be bad for him if he failed... and he doesn't seem the type to like that--- I dunno if he's reliable but based on what i saw he's at least doing it for self gain. Though how capable is he? i dunno... didn't he go toe to toe with Surge for awhile? guess that's something..."

Not that gold thought Jet could beat Surge! but keeping pace was something for a guy with no powers right? Well she just put her trust in Belle and prayed this would all be over soon! mostly she hoped those people would be ok!

She was worried though... was Tails ok? How was miss Jewel? what was that foreboding feeling on the ship? was that clutch or... was it something else?

================================================

Amy looked distant for a moment as the landscape sped by and she held onto Blaze loosely so as to not hurt her. Not many knew the real story to Tails, how sonic and he met or why he was always so clingy to the other. Those two found one another by chance, but there friendship had saved them more times then she could count.

" It's not that surprising those two are so close. Sonic practically raised him after Eggman blew up the Orphanage where he grew up. Kinda shocks me that Sonic took him with him, but what ever his reasons. The two have looked after one another since then... "

She giggled a little and looked up at Blaze with a smile

" Course let's be fair its more Tails looking after Sonic! That's never really changed, if i know tails he's already got a complicated plan in motion... "

She doubted Blaze's Magic and her own were the same, but anyone with any knowledge might be helpful. Her magick was rather unique, drawing from an unknown source. It allowed her to summon objects though she still didn't know if it was pre-existing items or a bit of reality warping. What ever the source it was quite powerful she just wanted a better handle on it.

Plus when she hit puberty it nearly killed her... she'd like to avoid that another outburst like that.

" I never considered our worlds magick was so different... All mom left me as a clue was her Grimoire. But it has some kind of enchantment on it...doesn't open for anyone... and few times i got it open bad things happened..."

She sighed and looked back toward the racing ground in front of her

" Temples? I've heard the stories... but i've never seen one myself--- but yea we should focus! figure out what is happening back at HQ! "

"Well, Tails is on board so I'm sure he'll try to do everything he can to capture Clutch, though Eggman is there as well. I think we both know what'll happen to Clutch if Eggman gets his hands on him." Even if Eggman wasn't here to end Clutch she was sure at the very least she'd strong arm him into working under him. After all, who would be stupid enough and crazy enough to say no to Eggman right to his face. "Not to mention Metal Sonic. You shouldn't try to engage him."

"As for what I need. I did need you to distract the guards in the main deck of the airship, though access suddenly opened up so I just turned off all weapons. So, what would be helpful is if you and Storm could cause a big enough racket to distract all the guards which will leave Wave the chance to start guiding people to shuttles." Best to get all civilians and all non-combatants out of harms way first.

"I also just detected a EMP went off which should already gain some of the guards attention. Not to mention I'm sure Eggman and Metal Sonic has already cut then number down. There's also someone else there. They have a cloak and seem to be helping Director Jewel. I guess they're a friendly." Belle wondered just who they were.

===========================================================

"I suppose it was only a matter of time before Tails ended up taking more after Sonic with how often they're together. I can't recall a time where I ever saw those two apart for even a second." For the most part if Blaze ever visited Sonic or Tails the other was usually there or at the very least close by. She often heard people call them the closest of friends, though they were more like brothers.

Blaze did hope Tails would continue maintain more caution than Sonic as she's seen just how truly reckless the hedgehog can be at times. The feline was sure the fox had more than a few stories of all the times he's had to save the speedster from falling into a trap or from getting seriously hurt. Thinking about asking made her resist the urge to chuckle as she was sure Sonic would try to play it off as no big deal and he had things handled.

Blaze then thought about the question for a moment before answering. "Well, I am a master of Magick, though I am unsure if that would be of much help as the difference between our worlds is noticeable. Magick is Mobius comes from Chaos Energy while Magick in Sol comes from the Jewel Specter which are polar opposite in terms of energy." The feline was sure that wasn't the answer Amy wished to hear.

"However, during some of my travels I have heard tales of ruins and forgotten temples that might hold teachings of Magick. Perhaps after things are settled with whatever is happening at The Restoration we can attempt to locate some of them and see if there is any truth to these tales." Blaze was sure there had to be some old teachings of Magick in Mobius.

#Prince of Babylons #Jet #Gears and Starters #Belle #Restoration Archivist #Gold #Head Engineer #The Chief #Blazing Princess #Blaze #Piko Piko Witch #Amy Rose

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willshipanything-blog · 2 years ago

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Rules of the Game- Chapter 2

Just finished the second chapter of my new fic!

Chapter Index here.

Or go to the work on AO3 to leave a comment if you're feeling up to it! Tags on AO3, but generally gonna get darker so minors DNI!

Chapter 2: Blindness

The first sense that came back to you was touch. You felt a spongy surface beneath your aching body, damp and cold and rough. Slowly regaining your faculties, you were welcomed by a dull ache vibrating through your skull. Rolling your head to assess the pain only made it sting more, and you grunted weakly.

As much as your head pounded, you forced yourself to try and remember what had happened to leave you in this sorry state. A vague recollection of memories buzzed in your head, like a clip show on a static television. A kid – broken eggs – a van – a man in black. Him. That man, you’d been helping him. He had tricked you.

The sudden clarity of the remembrance snapped you back to the present and you bolted upright far too quickly. You winced at the sudden pain radiating through your skull, inhaling sharply through your teeth as your head spun. You held back the urge to vomit, instead trying to catch your breaths in between retching. Your already arid throat constricted in agony. You tried to look about, but a stygian darkness surrounded you. Were you blindfolded, or was this place pitch black?

You decided to focus on more pressing matters at that moment. Trying to locate the source of the worst pain, you dabbed blindly at your face, prodding soft tissue that felt bruised and boggy. Your fingertips came away wet, no doubt with blood from your abused skin.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, I wouldn’t want them to get infected.”

An insidious voice coming from the void beyond turned your bones to ice. Although somewhat muffled, it cut through you like a dagger. You choked out a gasp and retreated back on what you assumed was a small bed. Your back collided with a smooth stone wall, knocking your already injured head into it. Whilst your body tried to cope with this assault, you heard footsteps drawing near. A small sigh from somewhere imperceptibly above you sank lower, and you heard a steady, low breathing uncomfortably close to your own shaky breaths.

“You know, you really did a number on me back there. You broke my glasses too, you little bitch. You’re lucky I didn’t slice your throat right there in the street. See this bruise on my face? Ah, you can’t see shit, can you?” An arm waved invisibly in the abyss before you.

The words helped click your memories into place like a lock. Every detail of the act came reeling through your mind, hurtling back at full speed now; the cruel trick with the coin, something bitter stinging your face, being heaved into the van, trying pitifully to fight back and, finally, being pummeled into unconsciousness. This man, this monster hovering in front of your blindness had done this to you. And judging by his spiteful words, worse was yet to come. Your fatigued body wouldn’t move, betraying you once more. All you managed were heavy, panicked breaths that were now overcoming you, shaking you uncontrollably. Firm hands grasped your upper arms, rubbing them slowly.

“Hey, hey, take a breath. You’re ok now, I won’t hurt you.”

You might have laughed at this statement if you weren’t so terrified in that moment, stuck in his grip. One hand crept up from your arm to gently tuck back a wisp of your hair that had fallen in front of your eyes. It hurt to tug your head away, so instead you furrowed your eyebrows in disgust at the sickeningly tender gesture. You tried unsuccessfully to make sense of the man crouched in front of you. Maniacally violent one minute, warm and reassuring the next. This unpredictability scared you shitless and tears started to swell in your eyes, running down your wounded cheeks.

Two large hands now moved to your face, palms pressing each cheek softly as his thumbs swept away the tears escaping your eyes. Several rings adorned on his fingers felt cool, somewhat alleviating the heat of your cheeks as they pressed into your bruised skin. You hated that your body had stopped shaking so violently under his hands.

“Come on, there’s no need for tears, I really don’t want to hurt you, dove,” the same nickname from the magic trick he’d done felt taunting to your ears “What I said just now about slitting your throat- I was angry is all. You’re safe, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“You’re–” you croaked meekly, before a finger brushed itself against your lips, stinging slightly where you felt another gash on your face. You didn’t even know how you were going to finish that sentence. You’re lying. You’re going to kill me. You’re completely fucking insane.

“Shh, don’t try to speak right now. We have time to talk later, alright?” the voice purred softly “Get some rest and I’ll bring you a soda soon, hm?” Another small groan escaped the man's lips as he hoisted himself up from a crouch. He seemed to linger above you for a moment before the tread of his steps retreated. A metallic creak from some distance indicated to you that a solid door stood between you and freedom.

Aware he was about to leave, you urged yourself to say something quickly, your hoarse voice wavering at the thought of addressing the creature in the blackness surrounding you. “You’re the Grabber.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. A feeble statement, barely whispered from your parched lips, barely dared to be spoken, but a fact nonetheless. Despite the terror coursing through your body, you felt a little less helpless at being bold enough to confront him with this truth.

A puerile giggle traversed the space between him and you. “I said, we can talk later, ok? I’m sure you’re gonna be a good girl who will do as she’s told.” The same sing-song voice that had been used to lure you in now seemed to ridicule you for your stupidity.

You heard the door shut in place with a heavy thud, followed by a locking click. Staying silent and stiff against the wall, you expected another trick. Anticipated that the Grabber would still be in the room with you, and after all his reassurances of safety would lunge for your throat with a knife, dispatching you swiftly to be stashed with the rest of his victims. When that didn’t happen, you allowed yourself to exhale slowly, trying hopelessly to lower your pounding heartbeat. Your adrenaline high from the confrontation with him had mollified, and in its place the pain had returned.

You were too dehydrated to cry any more tears, instead hiccupping dry intakes of breaths. Trying to think of your next steps only furthered the pain in your skull. With no hope of reprieve from the agony in your head and the discomfort permeating throughout your entire body, not to mention your clouded sight, you simply laid down gently and, somehow, slept.

Perhaps it was a small mercy that your vision had failed you. You hadn’t yet seen the masked figure of the Grabber, the piercing cerulean eyes with their predatory glint that had surveyed almost every inch of you, examining his newest slab of meat with malicious intent as your shivering frame sobbed pathetically beneath him.

And so the it begins again. Al reveled in this feeling, the start of a new venture that he was sure to savor. She was almost a perfect substitution for his usual sacrificial lamb, terrified and confused as they all are at the beginning. She didn’t plead, though. Interesting. That was usually the first thing they said- ‘Please, let me go…I won’t tell anyone… I don’t wanna die’. She had declared he was the Grabber, the nickname always so pleasing when he read it in the papers, and it was just as delicious to his ears from the sweet voice of his new little dove (that name another little addition he was beginning to enjoy). She knows what’s coming, her inevitable end, smart girl indeed. Perhaps she won’t put up a fight if she’s already given up hope. That wouldn’t be very fun now, but time will tell. The game has only just begun.

#the black phone #black phone #the grabber x reader #the grabber #albert shaw x reader #first fic #be nice please #slasher fandom #slashers

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geowrites03 · 3 years ago

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Smile

Damian Wayne x Joker’s daughter!reader

Summary: Damian finding out his friend from school is the Joker’s daughter and is being abused.

part 2 part 3

Spotify Playlist

“Guess who!” I called from one of the balconies in the abandoned warehouse. Batman and my father the Joker were fighting in one of the other rooms while Robin came looking for me.

“An annoying brat?” He replies and slightly chuckled but he won’t be laughing soon.

“Mmm… Close, but no.” I jumped down from the second level on the first with him. We both took out our swords and got into our fighting stances.

Several minutes later and we both have several cuts and wounds but no serious damage just yet. Robin tried to swing his sword at me but I leveraged under it and hit it down to the ground and kicked it across the room. I swung at him but he kicked my sword out of my hand and across the room with his.

Now fighting hand to hand and occasional kicks, knees and elbows, a few more bruises had been added to each of our bodies. Neither of us were winning but it definitely wasn’t me. I couldn’t land as many blows on him but I managed to knee him in the balls and run away.

I got a rather harsh lecture from my father after running away from a fight like that. He even threatened to beat me with the crowbar again if I ran from another fight. Mom helped me stitch and clean my cuts and wounds.

That night I couldn’t sleep and ended up staying on my phone scrolling through tiktok. When I realised how long I had been scrolling on tiktok I moved to scrolling through instagram. It was fairly boring until I saw that Damian finally posted for the first time in centuries. It was a photo of a drawing in one of his sketchbooks, it was of two swords crossing over each other making an x.

What really caught my eye were the hilts of the two swords. One was mine and the other was Robin’s like sure he could’ve found a photo of Robin’s sword and copied the hilt but there are no photos anywhere of mine. Since Damian was somewhat of a friend and, I had tried to keep my social life and the life my parents practically dragged me into, separate so he couldn’t have seen it at all. This was going to keep me up for several nights thinking about it now.

“Hey Dames!” I ran up behind him and gave him a hug.

“Hello y/nn.” He said calmly as I unwrapped my arms from around him and started walking beside him down the school halls.

“I was wondering about your drawing you posted last night. I recognised one of the sword hilts was Robin’s, but who’s was the other one?” He looked taken aback by the question.

“Oh- umm it was just something that I thought of on the spot because after I drew Robin’s the page still looked blank.” He’s lying, I can see it in his eyes.

“Oh ok, well it looked really cool.” After that I skipped of to the library.

Later in english class I kept glancing back and forth between the clock and Damian and every so often I would catch him looking at me but I thought nothing of it.

Damian’s POV~

Y/n’s been my friend for a while, I might have even developed a small crush on her, but she reminds me of somebody and it’s throwing me off. At first I wasn’t sure what made her so familiar then it clicked it was her smile. I kept on trying to see if any young heroes/sidekicks’ smile matched.

After I went through practically all of their smiles I never saw one that matched hers. It seemed like a bust looking through all of the young heroes’ smiles but I knew it had something to do with Heroes and …Villains… No she can’t be a villain, she’s too nice.

I was now looking back on some footage taken by the camera in my mask of my recent missions to see what I can work on in training. There was a clip from a few days ago it was when my father and I fought the Joker and v/n. It was when v/n first walked on the platform of the story above when she first looked at me she smiled.

It wasn’t sick or sadistic or meant to look cruel or ‘scary’, it looked happy, it was wide, bright, cheerful and almost innocent. It was also familiar, very familiar. I knew that smile anywhere, it was y/n’s.

When the video reached the end I saw something that I didn’t see when I was actually there. It was Joker slapping y/n then moved both of his hands to her throat and he threw her to the ground.

I couldn’t let her go through this I needed to help her, but I don’t know how if I knew where they lived then I would be able to save her and bring her back here.

#dc reader insert #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x you #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne #damian wayne x jokers daughter!reader

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sublieu · 3 years ago

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What if reader managed to lock yanderes Tanjiro, Giyu, Yoriichi (Separate)into a room or something and finally manages to get out of the damn place she's being held? And will they be able to find her again and if so, how long do you think it'll take?

Hmm? I wonder

Tags: @cherrykamado, and to that anon that sent that request

A.N: Any/all minor characters have been aged up for this specific post

Yoriichi Tsugikuni

She knew she was bound to fail from the start. Look at him he's stronger in both strength and agility and they both knew that.

So imagine his surprise to end up locked in a room by you, you also made sure to lock the door with a key incase if the chair you placed there fell before you had the chance of running.

As you ran into the forest you heard the window of the said room shatter. Making you run faster, hiding in a cave nearby behind some large rocks in the said cave.

You hid there in an attempt to hide from your captor, hearing his footsteps coming closer to the cave till they reached a stop. Your previously calmed heart now thumping louder against your chest as you heard his footsteps now lowered in volume.

You waited for a few minutes as to ensure he wasn't tricking you, you thinking that he left ran out of the cave, only to be shocked by a now furious Yoriichi jump out from the bushes aside the cave.

You tried to stop yourself from running into him but your attempts failed after he hugged your body, as you shook and tried your hardest to wiggle away from his tight grip.

He knocked you out after that and decided to 'punish' you by locking you in a sealed room, with him inside, he refused to leave you alone 24/7 after that.

Tanjiro Kamado

She knew that there was a fifty percent chance that she could escape but at the same time she also knew that Tanjiro would eventually capture her again.

So she decided to take that risk, by tricking Tanjiro into helping her clean up an old room.

"Tanjiro-kun I'll be right back ok?" she spoke as she walked out the room and closing the door behind her. Tanjiro went back to cleaning only to hear the same door click.

He ran to the door trying to open it, he even banged on it to draw back attention to you but you were already at a somewhat far distance away from his home.

As you ran deeper into the woods your mind was asking you several questions

"Why are you leaving him?" "He's only trying his best" the words rang in your ears, you tried to block them out but failed to do so after slowing down to rest your legs.

As you ate whatever food you stored in the bag the same words started to become louder, almost as if they were screaming at you to go back. You had to admit when you saw his teary-eyed expression it did hurt you. Alot.

You later came back to the house and opened the door to a weeping Tanjiro on the floor, his soft red eyes now filled with tears as he wept. You hugged him and continuously apologised to him, tears starting to form at your face as well as you continued with your apologies

Omg if you ever hurt him like that again Istg I'm breaking your legs

Giyuu Tomioka

You've had enough of him, you needed to escape. Now. But how were you going to escape? well you decided to drug him by feeding him his favourite food and that was Salmon Teriyaki.

He came home that evening right in time after you added the drug to his meal, he looked tired. Perfect.

"Tomioka-san I made your favourite meal!" you sang as you placed the dish on the table, the scent lingered in the air as he thanked you by giving you a soft smile and a kiss on the cheek.

As you both sat and ate quietly you're guilt started to eat you on the inside, even though he was your captor he didn't deserve this. Your train of though finally coming to a stop after you heard him yawn.

"I'm going to bed, thanks for the food y/n I love you" he spoke softly as he placed the dishes in the sink. Making your guilt cave you in even more But you had to leave, you missed your friends and family and you needed to see them.

As he went upstairs in your shared room you washed up the rest of the dirty dishes and stored some food to buy some time incase if he didn't fall asleep.

After waiting for 10 minutes you decided that before you left you decided to write a letter to him if he woke up.

Dear Giyuu,

You're probably wondering why I left this for you, I wanted to say I love you so much but sadly I have to go, I can't be living like this and eventually I had to go.

I know you'll resent me after this letter and try to find me but please understand I need space. I can't be at home daydreaming about things that will never happen if you kept me on a tight grip.

I have feelings and I need to express them too, both mentally and physically whether or not you like it.

I love you so damn much and it breaks my heart that I have to leave you alone like this. I hope that one day maybe if we reincarnate we can be together again, but now is not the time

-From Y/n

©𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐛𝐮𝐯_ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟏; 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

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glimmerglanger · 3 years ago

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Hey there! Hopefully it’s an OK time to make a request! I truly love your Alpha17/Obi fic, “Just Right”!

Hoping that a prompt of Alpha 17 finally making it to the Negotiator and pretty much stalking Obi and courting Obi in a very gentle and patient un-Alpha 17 way ends with some sexy and soft love making?

Anything will do! I just love this trope and the story you’ve created has been on my mind since it was published!

🥰😍🥰😍

Oooooooh! Well, I couldn’t quite do all the courting (that probably would have gotten longer than the original fic) but! I did do a little bit about the next time they run into each other! Thanks for the request! I have a few more in my inbox that I’m working on, as well!

This is VERY SPICY. SO SPICY. NOT SAFE FOR WIZARDS. Feat: intercrural and bjs and Feelings that 17 wishes he weren’t having.

~~~~

17 felt jittery in his skin from the time he heard that the Negotiator was going to make a stop on Kamino. It was an...unusual feeling, and one he found he disliked immensely. He tried to burn it away sparring with his brothers and, when that failed to work, he grabbed a group of shinies and led them on a run around one of the longer loops on the city.

After the third such loop, he still felt itchy along his bones and gave it up for a loss, retreating to his quarters and the quiet of his fresher.

He’d received a few messages from Kenobi since they’d last worked together. They’d been the usual sort of thing. He’d kept track of mission reports coming out of the Third System Army, too, making sure they routed through to him and reading over the lines of text.

He scrubbed a hand back over his short hair. He’d wanted Kenobi to come to Kamino, wanted an excuse to go back into the field. He hadn’t expected this strange twisting in his gut when he finally got what he’d been hoping for.

That did nothing to diminish the feeling.

He blew out a breath. Kenobi was still a day away, but 17 could imagine him well enough, picture his flashing eyes and that pleased little smile of his. He recalled - their memories were, after all, perfect - the stretch of bare skin and the tight, wet, marvelous heat around his cock.

He’d imagined it all, often, while touching himself in his bunk.

His own hand didn’t come even close to comparing. But it was what he had. What he’d had, anyway, but Kenobi was coming to Kamino…

17 frowned around his bunk and wondered how one went about asking for a repeat of the three days they’d spent in transit, fucking on every available surface.

Kenobi walked into the city with his cloak damp and sodden across his shoulders and a grin on his face. He nodded a greeting at 17 and fell into a conversation with Master Ti, and 17 tried not to think about how easy it had been to capture both of Kenobi’s wrists in one hand, pressing them down against the floor and sliding into his body, impossibly, and--

Kenobi glanced his way, an eyebrow raising, and 17 met his gaze evenly, shrugging with one shoulder. He’d made no secret of how much he’d enjoyed their activities. It would be pointless to try to pretend he hadn’t thought about it. Often.

Still, he knew how to be professional. He set the thoughts aside and focused on the discussion.

17 managed not to dwell too much on what they’d done throughout the day, but that didn’t stop him from steering Kenobi back to his quarters when evening finally arrived.

His quarters were built larger than most places in the city. The ceilings were tall enough to allow him to stand easily and the bed actually fit his proportions; it would swallow Kenobi, make him look so small, sprawled across it. Compared to the cabins on the cruisers, his room must have seemed huge.

Kenobi looked around, nodded, and said, “Certainly to scale, I have to--”

And then 17 backed him against the wall, slid a hand against his shoulder, and curled down enough to kiss him.

Kenobi moaned against his mouth, shifting from a conversation into the kiss easily, like switching gears on a speeder. He tasted good, mouth hot and sweet, his hands sliding up over 17’s armor, and 17 had taken him against a wall, held him up so easily - Kenobi barely weighed anything - and encouraged Kenobi to curl legs against his waist, because they wouldn’t fit all the way around 17 and--

“How do you feel,” 17 panted out, drawing away just enough to speak, “about a good hard fuck?”

Kenobi rasped out a sound, hair still a little damp from the rains outside, and said, “Oh, I’d quite enjoy that, but, hm, our options are somewhat more limited, this time.”

17 frowned, keeping Kenobi tucked against the wall; it was easy, blocking him in, and satisfying on some deep level. “Why’s that?”

“Well,” Kenobi said, clever fingers sliding along his armor, undoing latches, so he must still have been interested. “It’s been nearly two months since last I’ve seen you.”

“So?” 17 asked, not following, as Kenobi floated his chest plate somewhere across the room and placed it down quietly. He wanted to get his own hands on Kenobi, start taking off his robes, but once he started doing that, well…

Following the train of this conversation would grow harder.

“So, I’ve spent two months around all the men in the 212th,” Kenobi said, dry, and for a moment that made no sense as an explanation, until it did. Kenobi had explained, during one of the periods where they’d both needed a rest, how his people’s reproductive systems worked.

After two months, his reproductive organs would be perfectly compatible with all the men in the 212th. There was no way he’d be able to take 17. Not safely. 17 frowned, something twisting fast and hot and unpleasant in his gut at that thought, wondering if any of them realized. If they’d like the thought as much as he’d liked it, when Kenobi fitted him just right.

“Oh,” 17 said, drawing back, setting aside the flash of unknown emotion and a deeper sense of disappointment. Kenobi had been the only person he could--

“But I’m sure there are other options we can explore,” Kenobi said, following him, an arm sliding over his shoulders. “Unless you’re not interested?”

17 considered it. His disappointment almost had him shaking his head, sending Kenobi to his own bunk. But… they’d enjoyed themselves plenty, last time, and not just when he’d slid into the sweet embrace of Kenobi’s body.

And he didn’t want Kenobi to run off.

He frowned and asked, “What do you have in mind?”

Kenobi grinned, pulled himself up to take a kiss, and said, “Come here, let me show you.”

Kenobi positively got lost in the middle of 17’s mattress, just like 17 had known he would. He looked small - smaller than usual, even - spread out across the sheets, bare skin all on display, covered in freckles and scars.

17’s cock ached, a solid throb of need between his legs as he stroked himself with the lube Kenobi had pressed into his hands. Kenobi had told him to get very slick before rolling onto his stomach, 17’s pillow shoved under his hips.

“You’re sure this is what we should do?” 17 asked, hearing the doubt in his own voice.

Kenobi glanced over his shoulder - kriffing hell, the way he looked - and flashed a smile. “I think you’ll quite enjoy it,” he said, “just give it a try.”

17 grunted, but, in truth, he felt utterly incapable of refusing Kenobi when he was all stretched out, back bowing from the pillow under his hips, the insides of his thighs slick and shiny with lube.

“Come here,” Kenobi coaxed, shifting his ass back and forth, and, well. 17 wasn’t going to say no to that. He slid forward, hands moving over warm, perfect skin, knees making the bed dip, tilting Kenobi back towards him.

It was so easy to blanket him. 17 could cover him completely, and had, before, on a battlefield to shield him from shrapnel. But there were no explosions in his quarters. Just slick, warm skin as he sank down over Kenobi, cock brushing over the curve of his ass.

Kenobi hummed, tilting his hips back further, and 17’s cock slid forward, easy, between his legs.

“There you go,” Kenobi murmured, pressing his strong thighs closer together and - oh - the pressure felt good, good enough that 17 rocked his hips forward, cock sliding on slick skin, feeling all the lean muscles in Kenobi’s thighs and--

And the hot, wet slide of him, of the place where 17 could no longer fit, and he groaned, frustration and want all tangled together.

“You feel so good,” he rasped out, hips dragging back and pushing forward again, feeling the head of his cock just catch at - at the edge of Kenobi’s body and oh he wanted, but he could only drag the top of his cock along, sliding between the tight pressure of his thighs, muscles flexing against him and--

He dropped to his elbows, his arms long enough to still hold him up off of Kenobi’s back. He could look down, across Kenobi’s bright hair and the bunch of muscles in his shoulders. He could see Kenobi’s hands, clenched in the blankets as 17 moved between his legs, lube making the glide easy, friction building up the heat between them, Kenobi’s ass hard and firm against his hips each time he pushed forward.

He could remember taking Kenobi like this. Force, he’d remembered taking Kenobi like this, so many times, cock sliding in instead of forward, he’d be so tight, so wet, so hot, and--

17’s orgasm caught him by surprise and he groaned, head dropping forward as his cock jerked between Kenobi’s thighs. He shifted his hips back, unthinking, wanting the come all over skin, not his pillow and sheets.

“See,” Kenobi started, tilting to look over his shoulder, “I--oh!”

He looked gratifyingly startled when 17 pushed onto an arm, grabbed his hip, and flipped him onto his back. His chest was flushed - but only a little - and his cock stretched up towards his stomach, still hard.

17 could fix that. Wanted to fix that, so badly it made his jaw ache.

He shifted around, put a hand on Kenobi’s chest to keep him still, and bulled his way between Kenobi’s legs, curving over.

He tasted his own come, when he licked over Kenobi’s cock, sliding his lips down over heated skin. His come was everywhere, there always seemed to be so much of it when they did things together. It streaked over Kenobi’s thighs and--

And 17 couldn’t help but bringing his other hand up, sliding over skin, between Kenobi’s legs and - kriffing hell - it was there, too. He groaned, helplessly, and Kenobi echoed the sound, fingers scrambling at 17’s hair as he rubbed two fingers through the slick smear of his own come.

Kenobi cried out, all thick with pleasure, when 17 slid those two fingers over him, and then, with a renewed throb of want, into him.

Kenobi felt so tight around his fingers, hot and wet and squeezing. He knew how thick his fingers were, wondered if they were just about all Kenobi could take in his present state, and the thought made something in his spine go all white hot.

He bobbed his head, sucking as he moved his hand, curling his fingers while Kenobi’s legs curled up around his shoulders, while Kenobi gasped and tried fruitlessly to squirm under him, the sounds escaping his throat getting thicker and louder and--

17 swallowed when Kenobi gave it up for him, smiling at the feel of Kenobi’s body squeezing around his fingers, clenching in waves. He slid his fingers back and out, giving a last suck, after a long moment, and Kenobi gasped his name.

He looked...dazed and relaxed, sprawled on the bed, uncomplaining about 17’s hand on his chest, his heartbeat translating up into 17’s fingers. He looked...soft. And peaceful. And 17 felt, again, the way he had on their trip, that he’d very much like to keep Kenobi looking that way all the time.

He shivered at the thought, shook his head, and said, “You’re right, that was a good idea.” He cleared his throat, and, before Kenobi could start gloating, pulled both of Kenobi’s legs up, over one of his shoulders, and went on, “Do you think it would work like this, too?”

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #spicy #SO SPICY #not safe for wizards #follow up to Just Right #alpha x obi-wan #obi17

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

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Kaeya Alberich - Yandere Profile

YES I love my eyepatch boy!! I really like him as a yandere, because he's definitely got several traits and behaviors that would make him a very unconventional/different yet absolutely terrifying one to have. Him or Diluc as your yandere is basically like playing a game on maximum difficulty. He's so arrogant dammit why does he have to make it hot

More importantly, someone take the ability to write n/sfw away from me I s2g... I go from trying to make serious content to nasty weird kinks and completely feral in .002 seconds the moment I add that readmore

tws: gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, mentions of mutilation

tws (below cut): noncon, a good deal of sadism, mentions of an*l

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually one of the worst yanderes you could have in almost every regard, for two very simple reasons: his crippling psychological issues, and his intense selfishness. The first manifests as severe abandonment issues. It's the origin of his unhealthy feelings, most likely. Kaeya doesn't like the instability of people - based on his backstory, people always leave, or die, and even if they don't intend to, somehow it feels like abandonment, and he resents it. People leave him all alone and afraid and uncertain. That's generally all he knows, and despite the smug exterior, he's actually pushed people away quite a bit, keeps everyone at arm's length to ensure they can't become someone too important for him to accept their sudden absence. He can't care about someone, because that someone is fated to inevitably leave him, no matter who it may be.

That's why, once you manage to worm your way into his feelings and heart despite his best efforts, once he finally caves to acknowledging the feeling, he's aware. Painfully aware, because be can't stop worrying every waking moment about you, your well-being, your location. It reaches a point where he can't go about his job because he's simply too consumed with his worry.

The solution that kept him safest in the past was to avoid developing emotional attachments, but when he does, he's terrified of both your safety AND you intentionally abandoning him. Really, the latter would hurt worse, since he can't fault you for dying, but to abandon him? It would break him.

And, to some extent, he's developed a lot of prideful anger about it, deep, deep down. He feels that he doesn't deserve to be abandoned, doesn't deserve to just be left behind under the guise of some greater purpose, and he'll be damned if he just lets you toss him aside like he feels others did. Even if you reject him, he won't accept it. You don't get to reject him. He won't allow that. What has he ever done to deserve everything that's happened to him? Nothing. You're the one person who has stayed with him, and you're going to continue to be with him. Forever.

That being said, he's still somewhat confident because he's got that arrogance about him. He doesn't perceive rejection, because he's always gotten a lot of attention for his looks, even if he's never actually followed through on anyone else's attention out of those same fears. He'll write off any perceived rejection as being for some other reason, something besides an actual rejection, and he'll seek to eliminate whatever he feels is keeping you from just accepting him.

Honestly, one of the most likely to have a full blown, classic-yandere-style psychotic breakdown. He can be driven to a snapping point, if there's enough stress or obstacles, and in case of that, he'll be a lot more willing to kill, and a lot more willing to hurt you, but it's a point that would still take a lot to reach.

But what's really terrifying about Kaeya is his delusions, primarily his ability to mentally justify everything he does without hesitation. Even most delusional yanderes struggle - they feel like it's wrong, they know it is deep down, and they take time to convince themselves of their delusions, tell themselves it's ok over and over, beg for reassurance, and get defensive when called out because they know they're in the wrong. The same isn't true for Kaeya. He automatically justifies his actions by default, and has absolutely zero doubt or hesitation to do so. He doesn't even need a complex reason for justification - it's a simple one. He deserves what he wants. Anything necessary to achieve that is fair.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Highly likely and very quickly, right up there with Diluc and Razor. And he's absolutely remorseless about it. It ties back into his delusional state and ability to justify anything he does - this is what's best for you. If you don't get that, that's your problem, not his.

He's another one to not want to pull some barbaric move like knocking you out, rather, he'd rather just trick you into walking right into your new home. He gets that you'll be upset about it, but to him, that's just part of the process. Not that he'll tolerate it for too long. 12, maybe 24 hours is enough time for you to reasonably be upset, but if you're still trying to fight him on this after that, he's going to get snappy about it, thinking you should already be over that by now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

You're not leaving.

It's not worth trying, really. How he manages to do it is a mystery to you, but he'll manage to keep you locked in right there at the headquarters with him. How Jean and Lisa haven't found out about you being there, how he convinced all of his guards to be on his side of things, you have no idea. Realistically, if you get out, he's likely to make you out to be some kind of criminal that needs to be found -- just not to hurt you in any way, so goes the order, and the knights know better than to question why.

He has eyes and ears everywhere, it won't take them anytime at all to find you. He's so confident in that, and combined with his pride, he doesn't feel the need to go get you himself. No, it's a lot more satisfying to sit back and watch as they drag you through the doors of the headquarters, slowly pull you to the end of the room and drop you down at his feet, where he can look down on you with that closed-eyed, artificially wide smile that tells you that you have seriously fucked up.

Escape attempts aren't going to be met with a single shred of mercy, really. The thing about Kaeya is he's ultimately a selfish, selfish bastard with a lot of deep-seeded, highly repressed emotional issues, and he has absolutely no problem with keeping you bound hand and foot, or maybe even make some permanent modifications to your body if that's what it takes to keep you. It's not a wise idea to even try unless you're absolutely certain to succeed, otherwise you may find yourself never getting the opportunity again. You don't really need those Achilles tendons intact, you know. And your ankle bones are just so fragile, they'll snap with just a little twist. Actually, that wouldn't be too bad, giving you more reasons to be grateful when he's doing everything for you.

He's not one to just let it go, either. No, escape attempts are the one unforgivable thing for him, the one thing that will make him totally and completely snap. You don't get to do that. You're the one thing that doesn't get to just disappear out of his life in a flash. Half the reason he sends the knights to get you rather than going himself is to give him some time to let the rage settle down, otherwise he knows he might not be able to control himself and might end up hurting you even worse than he intends to. He's not going to buy any excuses and won't go any lighter on you if you beg and grovel or anything. But you will apologize -- you get to choose how hard it is. You can apologize the easy way, or, if you don't want to, there are many ways to force it out. But by the end, he'll get an apology, and a promise to never try again, out of you, no matter what that takes. It's by far the worst state you'll ever see him in, and really, once is enough to dissuade you from trying again.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

You'd have to try pretty hard. He doesn't have the sheer amount of years of life experience like Venti or Zhongli, but he's not the captain for no reason - he's perceptive, and highly intelligent.

Rather than simply mastering reading human voice and facial expressions for telltale signs of deceit, he's good at learning individuals in particular - memorizing the patterns of thought and action of a particular individual, and predicting how they will act. He can do it with everyone else with ease, how much more, then, with the object of an obsession? If you're trying to formulate some plan to trick him, he'll already predict what you'll do, if you lie, he already knows. It's creepier than the others, really, because it's not just that he can tell when you're lying, but rather he already knows you're going to lie or try some scheme before you do it. It feels so tailored and personalized to your thought patterns, it almost feels like an invasion of the privacy of your mind, which, really, is the one privacy you thought you had left.

He's great at gaslighting himself, too. He's a very good liar, and can make you believe anything he wants. He'll target your fears and paranoias, make you believe you're going crazy, and he'll do it all so perfectly you'll never suspect a thing. You'll end up coming to him for protection and guidance, exactly as planned.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Pretty strict. He doesn't let you have any outside contact, and you're limited on what you can do when he's gone. He'll bring you some books, maybe something to draw on -- no sharp writing utensils, though. In his mind, that should be enough to occupy you.

You won't get outside walks or visits. It's just too risky for him, and he really doesn't like seeing other people look at you. If you really, really beg, and you've been on amazing behavior, and you're well into your relationship, maybe a few months or so, there's a chance he'll take you out at nighttime, or sunrise, but at the slightest sign of intentions he doesn't like, you'll be dragged back, and you won't see the sun for a long time.

You'll have a very limited wardrobe, he doesn't see why you even need to wear anything, but if you're going to be stubborn, he can get you something simple, like an old shirt and some underwear, but that's about all you can have. Any requests for actual clothing are going to be denied. It's ridiculous for him to spend money on something you don't need, and besides, he prefers it this way, y'know?

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Generally, it's a simple one: obey. You do what he tells you to do, and you don't do something if he tells you not to. This stems to similar rules that develop: be submissive, don't be argumentative, don't be defiant. Follow those, and you can both be happy, and that's what you want, isn't it? It had better be - he's not very lenient, and will harshly punish even small offenses. As for that punishment... most of it isn't going to be sfw. That's just how he is.

What he will do is emotionally manipulate you, and he's rather good at it. You wanted to escape? Ok. He'll let you have your way, let you be alone. All alone. All by yourself, in a little room, with no one at all, which is exactly how you would have left him, had you succeeded. He knows very well how that kind of loneliness bites. He's not totally cruel, though, and he won't withhold affection from you by the time he returns -- he doesn't need to, you'll already be crying and apologizing, which is exactly what he hoped for. Not that he won't briefly mock you for it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're crying like that because you actually missed me. Oh, you did? Being all alone isn't particularly fun, now is it? I'm sure you understand that now."

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaeya's an insanely jealous person. It doesn't show on his face, but it eats at him internally. It doesn't matter if it's a love interest, a platonic friend, even a family member. It's all the same -- people who want to take your attention away from him, people who you smile at that aren't him, people you love that aren't him. He's not one to delude himself into thinking everyone secretly loves you romantically, rather, it doesn't matter. Romantic interests are the worst threat, sure, but friends and family aren't much better.

He sees himself as above killing, though. He has people to do that for him, and he likes knowing that he has that much power. He's not going to dirty his hands with it, and frankly, they're not even worthy of his time and effort to kill them. Knights and other connections can take care of it just as well.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

As somewhat previously discussed, the primary form of making him mad is attempting an escape. That's on a whole new level of anger because it strikes at a very deep, wounding insecurity. On a normal day, though, he's more easily exasperated than angry. He gets frustrated somewhat easily, especially if you're trying exceptionally hard to be a brat. He has very clear warning signs. His signature little smirk drops, he gets quiet, he balls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms. At that stage, he's irritable and might snap at you, but won't get too angry until you ignore those signs and push it.

If you do push him, though, he gets genuinely mad, which is a very quiet anger at first -- he doesn't talk much when he's mad. He acts. You'll know he's snapped when he puts down whatever he's doing, and just silently stomps over to you, face completely empty and flat, looking down at you with a cold expression. It's enough to put fear in you, but at that point, even if you apologize, you're not getting out of whatever he's planned.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Strongly in the "below" camp, a rather unusual stance for a yandere. Like many things with him, there's an inexplicable duality going on there. You would think that if you loved someone so strongly you'd kidnap them, kill for them, and potentially suffer consequences just to have them, that you would really think highly of them. On the flip side, you would think that if you really saw someone as lowly, you wouldn't care for them, you'd see them as disposable.

But neither is true for Kaeya, no, he balances both obsessive love and complete narcissism regarding you. You're not disposable, no, he can't live without you, he needs you. But at the same time, you're not gonna be on any kind of pedestal. No, if anything, he sees himself on one, more like a throne, and you on the floor before him, how things should be.

He has a similar mindset to Zhongli or Albedo - you're fragile, you're dumb, you're incapable, and you need someone to care for you, protect you, guide you, someone who knows what's best for you, since you clearly don't. However, he's lacking in the attitude those other two have -- there's no seeing you as an angel here. There's no viewing himself as being absolutely honored to take care of you, or viewing protecting and caring for you as some kind of privilege that they're blessed to do, the way those two do.

No, as much as he loves those things, he'll never admit it, not even to himself really. Rather, his mentality is that you should be grateful. Here he is, a very highly respected, accomplished, capable person, and you...? You have what to offer, exactly? That's right, nothing, really, only cuteness and obedience, the latter of which you refuse to give him even though you really ought to. He's taking on the burden of making sure you don't get yourself killed, and how do you repay him? By getting mad about it, throwing a fit like some little kid? He puts up with your tantrums, which are really undeserved, by the way. He puts up with your disobedience and repeated rule violations, your sheer determination to defy him when he's going out of his way to do what's best for you.

One day, he thinks, you'll mature a little bit and understand why he does what he does, and when you do, you'll come groveling and sniffling about how sorry you are, how you'll never defy him again, how you'll be good and obedient from now on, and he'll love every second of it. He looks forward to that day quite a bit.

"Sigh... you know, you're pretty lucky I love you so much. You could stand to show me a little thanks, don't you think?"

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's strongly determined, and yet... doesn't do much to try. It goes back to his mindset that really, you're the one who should be grateful for him, and eventually, you will love him. He's not gonna grovel to you or try different ways of making you love him, no, he's far too proud for that. But he's a smart man. He knows the effects that complete and total isolation other than one other person can have on someone. He's just going to sit back and wait for that effect to kick in, and slowly watch your fragile little mind deteriorate until you're desperate for affection. At which point, well, he can use it against you.

"You were so mean to me before, weren't you? You fought me every step of the way, and now you're just going to turn around and act like that didn't happen...? Well, if you're really sorry, I'll forgive you. But how am I supposed to believe you really are...? Maybe you can think of a way to prove it, hm?"

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the severity of his degradation. As aforementioned, most yanderes, even the more confident or cocky individuals, either worship the ground their beloved walks on and sees themselves as beneath them, OR sees their darling as some sort of fragile, angelic being, and they are simply a protector or caretaker to that being.

It's a bit different with him, ever the narcissist. It's a strange duality born out of a rare mix of neediness, obsession, and pride. You're more like a toy, or a pet - an invaluable pet that he could never part with, but a pet nonetheless. He certainly looks down on you more than the average yandere - he mentally associates you as naive, fragile, even dumb like a lot of the aforementioned protector/caretaker types, but without the reverence to make up for it.

It's a bizarre duality that not even he fully understands - don't think for a moment that that means he'll ever tire of you, or view you as disposable. No, he's actually one of the most obsessive ones, yet very demanding of attention and praise, rather than giving it.

He frequently tests you - things like leaving the door unlocked, waiting outside just to see if you'll try it. Seeing you open that door, watching your face go from ecstatic excitement and drop to wide-eyed terror, it's priceless.

"My, my, you didn't waste any time at all, did you? Why do you look so surprised...? You should know I wouldn't slip up that badly."

Pet names, but in the most infuriatingly condescending way, and uses them more often when he's mad and trying to warn you that you're pushing his limits. Particularly fond of "sweetheart," especially with a low warning tone and clenched teeth.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny fucker, all the way. The man has a lot of stress and frustration in his life already, that much more if you're... less than compliant with your new lifestyle. Sex, especially rough and hard, is a fantastic stress reliever.

Very little reservation. He's not crude about it, but he tends to make subtle innuendos very frequently, and laughs at your embarrassed reactions. Definitely the type to pull the whole shtick in which he says something with a blatant sexual undertone, then elaborates in a way to make it sound like having meant something else, follows with that smirk and says, "Why? What did you think I meant?" It's something he really enjoys doing, and loves to get embarrassed reactions out of people, particularly yourself.

"Touchy" doesn't begin to describe it. Pretty much from the moment you meet him, he's got his hands somewhere on your person. He grabs your shoulders when he stands behind you, he wraps an arm around you from the side when he walks up to you, he's always pressing his hands on your back and sides whenever you're navigating the streets, walking through doorways, wraps an arm around your waist when sitting next to you. It's highly uncomfortable, but really, he's just got something very subtly, but very strongly intimidating about him. You almost don't want to confront him on it. If you do, he'll laugh it off, and stop -- for maybe 48 hours or so, and then he'll be right back at it.

To the surprise of, well, everyone who's ever met him, he doesn't actually live up to the rumors of having been around the block, so to speak. His experience is actually little to none - that kinda happens when you push everyone around you away. Not that he'd ever let you know that, of course, and will probably lie if asked, but you can gleam a little bit of truth from slightly awkward movements and a bit of noticeable shakiness.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Kind of like Razor, the issue is that he loves you, and what better way is there of expressing love? He's not much for gift-giving or words of affirmation - no, he's a lot better with words of degradation, it comes more naturally to him. And he's certainly not one to enjoy acts of service -- well, not doing them, he'll gladly take them as a sign of your love, though. No, he expresses love through touch. It's like how, when you hug someone you really love, someone you missed, you squeeze them extra tight - the love manifests as a physical urge for some strong expression. Humans are physical about their emotions -- we punch walls when we're mad, we jump up and down when we're happy, and when you love someone, sometimes you just really, really want to pound them into a mattress as hard as physically possible. That's normal. That, and really, he's got his vices. He's actually fairly weak when it comes to resisting temptations, and prone to give in to urges for physical sensations like drunkenness and sex.

Is another one to be convinced that, with time, you'll come around. And is absolutely the top candidate to be one for using your own body against you - if you get wet, if you whimper, if you cum, that's just proof that you really do want this, that you're just being difficult because you enjoy being a brat, and he'll be sure to tell you that.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

This is nearly indistinguishable from punishment, sadistic bastard

D/S dynamics

Arrogant fucker wants to be served and worshipped, you could see it coming from a mile away. Anything that puts you beneath him is going to make him happy - anything where you're where you're supposed to be. There's a lot of options, but it doesn't really matter, as long as he feels like he's in control and ownership of you in some way, and as long as you act accordingly.

He wants it to be something that’s not just for sex, but rather, he’ll end up carrying it over into normal life, whether you like it or not. If you just went along with it in hopes of getting it over with once he cums, you’re going to be in for a treat when it starts to carry over. He gets a little too used to being worshipped, and decides he likes that submissive attitude on you enough to want to see it all the time.

Petplay/Collaring

It really helps that he sees you as something of a pet already, but really, the collar is the selling point. Even if you never go outside, there's something unbearably hot about the possessiveness of it all - really, it's there to remind you of your status as property. He wants to own you, and for you to be forced to acknowledge that he owns you, and there's really no better way to do that than something with his name on it. It's even better with a leash, one he can pull on when he's fucking you to pull you back onto him over, and over, and over, hearing it choke you the more he shortens it.

But really, having you crawl towards him on all fours and obey little commands so simple they're humiliating is pretty nice, too.

Impact pain/painplay

There's really nothing quite so powerful feeling as watching you cry and squirm from it, y'know? He's another one that just likes the marks his hands, belts, or anything else can leave all over the skin of your ass and the back of your legs. The thing with him, though, is it's not even always a punishment, he just does it for fun, and that makes it unpredictable. Will definitely make you count, it's a sadistic torture for your mind and body.

Throatfucking

May be used as a punishment measure, may just be because he's craving it, either way, even if you have a gag reflex, you won't for very long. He'll train it out of you gradually, grabbing the back of your head and just slamming all the way down into your throat, holding you there, making you choke - it's a beautiful sound, really, listening to you gag, all while your throat spasms around him, it's the best feeling, really, and will definitely be used as a threat if you need incentives to behave.

Choking

Ties into the dynamics, but really, there’s not much to say on this one. He likes the power trip from having his hands wrapped around your throat, seeing you struggle, watching your face go red, hearing those little choking noises. It puts power over you into his hands, and if you get pleasure from it against your own will, that’s even better.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Absolutely one of the ones to use it as a tool. If you have a baby, you'll be so much more bound to him. You'll need him more, you'll want him around more, you'll be much less likely to leave, and in a way it feels a little bit like a sign of ownership over you.

That being said, he's also acutely aware of his jealous tendencies, and realizes he would also be very likely to become jealous if he felt like you loved a baby more than him, or gave it more attention and affection than you do him. He doesn't like the thought.

So ultimately, the latter side prevents him from willingly trying, but if you really, really have defiance issues even after he's tried everything he can to break you help you adjust, he might consider it.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If it's mild enough, he can just take the route of extremely rough fucking - it gets rid of the frustration, he likes hearing you whimper and squeal, and he can leave lots of little bruises as reminders of what not to do in the future.

But, again, he already gets off to putting you in pain - it'll be that much worse when you've done something to deserve it. Harder hits, no mercy whatsoever, and he just loves all your little cries, wiping away your tears and smiling at you, right before bringing down whatever instrument of pain he's chosen again. If you really, really make him mad, and he really wants to make you cry, he's not above fucking your ass, either, watching you cry and beg, but you'll learn with time that begging doesn't ever get you out of anything.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Definitely an ass man. Likes fucking you in doggy, seeing the ripple every time you bounce back off of him, pulling your hair or arms to add some force. He likes seeing all the little red marks that his hands and belts and anything else will leave on the skin, views it like marks of possession. Grabbing, beating, fucking, it's all good.

#Jesus take the wheel im too nasty for this #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kaeya #tw: dark content #tw: noncon #tw: non/con

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pars-ley · 4 years ago

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hi! i just came across your page the other day and i’ve read all of your drabbles and stories multiple times lol! so for my ask, i would love it if you did a college AU with popularjock!jk and have it be similar to the movie ‘A Cinderella Story’. some angst with smut and a happy ending if possible! oh and bestfriendjimin! as well :) hope this is not too much to request! ily

At the stroke of Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x f reader

Summary: One popular boy + One 'uncool' girl + One school dance + One necklace left behind = A cinderella story.

Genre: Angst / Fluff / Smut / Cinderella au / A Cinderella story au / comedy / popular jock jungkook / best friend Jimin

Warnings: Suggestive language / sex

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Word Count: 4k

Beta reader: @casuallyimagining

A/N: I am so sorry this has taken me so long! I had no clue about this film, so writing this entailed some research and me watching the movie...twice haha. I really hope I did it justice for you and you enjoy it. Thank you for the request!

"So, what's prince charming saying now that's so much more important than your best friend?" Jimin pouts, rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

You flush slightly. "He wants to meet." Grimacing at the words.

"And that's a problem, why?"

You bury your head in your hands. "Because I'm me and I'm certainly no one special, what if he's disappointed?" You groan, the dilemma churning your gut and making you feel like your breakfast could make a second appearance.

"Hey," Jimin scoots closer to you along the bench and throws an arm around your shoulder. "No best friend of mine gets away with speaking about herself like that. You are lovely, and if he thinks you're anything other than amazing, there's something wrong with him and he needs to be studied in a lab."

You laugh in spite of yourself, hearing Jimin’s words rattle around in your brain, knowing that you should not be this hard on yourself. You lean into his snug embrace.

You open up Tumblr and stare at the conversation between you and @gameoverguk. Your favourite gaming blog you’ve followed for ages, by chance seeing your gaming fan art and following you back was one thing, but conversing with him and finding out that he also attended your school was a completely different matter. Trying to solve the equation of who this mysterious creator might be is harder than you thought. And the way he converses with you, so open and honest and sweet, that had to narrow it down surely?

Something slams into your back, pain immediately in its wake. You and Jimin turn to see the popular boy of your university, Jungkook, gawking at you and his best friend Taehyung in hysterics.

Jimin looks down in the grass behind you at the offending apple and calls, “Hey, watch it guys.”

“Really sorry!” Jungkook calls over, a slight dusting of scarlet across his cheeks but looks like he’s also fighting a laugh. It burns you how someone so smug can still be so handsome, and you hate yourself for even thinking about him in any way other than the airhead jock that he is.

Taehyung jogs over and picks it up, still somewhat amused. “What, didn’t your crystal ball tell you that was gonna happen?” He says to you, loud enough for everyone in a mile radius to hear.

You cringe inwardly, attempting to fight your embarrassment.

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of the top athletes in this university? And you can’t even catch an apple.” Jimin snarks in your defense.

His face drops as he looks like he’s about to take a step towards you both.

“Tae!” Jungkook calls, an air of command in his voice, breaking the tense air as he looks away from you ruefully. Walking off with Taehyung following, eating his apple and laughing between bites.

“Ignore them.” Jimin says sternly. “Speaking of, are you working tonight?”

Your face falls into an unamused expression, as if he even had to ask.

You were working so much you were almost taking residence at your step-mums 'magic shop', as everyone called it.

He smiles at you, his nose wrinkling, and you can’t help your face softening.

“Ok, ok, my bad. Can I swing by later? I need some more incense.”

You shrug, grabbing your bag and chucking it over your shoulder. “Sure. I’d be glad of the company to be honest.”

“Ooooh, maybe we could do a seance?”

You glare at him and head off to class causing his melodious laugh to ring out around you.

Sitting in the bleachers after class, with your sketchpad and pencil, the perfect view of the city line and the departing sun staring back at you, you sketch away. The pencil etching fast across your paper as you manage to block out the sounds of the team practicing and their bodies crashing against each other.

Long after you've lost yourself in your landscape, fingers grey and shiny from shading, you neglect to hear some of the team members leaving, climbing over the seats and headed in your direction. That is until your pad is snatched from underneath you as you frantically grapple for it, without success.

"You know, this isn't where the nerds hang out." Taehyung smirks at his two other buddies, clearly impressed with himself.

You let out a bored sigh. "Oh I'm sorry, I didn't realize you owned the bleachers." Your words drip with sarcasm.

His face drops and a mean glare spreads across his features as he throws your drawing pad in the air. You watch helplessly as the pages flutter in the wind as it flies away and disappears under the stands.

"Have a nice night." He says quietly, an attempt to be intimidating, as him and his friends leave.

Your veins alight with fury, hands balled into fists at your sides. You wanted to stamp your feet like a petulant child. This isn't fair. Why you?

It's only then you notice Jeon Jungkook standing on the field watching. Embarrassment suddenly extinguishes your angry flames as he breaks your gaze first, walking off under the bleachers. You grab your bag to leave for work before you suffer any more humiliation.

As you reach the last step you yelp with surprise as Jungkook appears suddenly in your view, you manage to steel yourself before tumbling into him.

You stare at him, wishing he'd get on with it and tease you so you can go...but it doesn't come. Instead he hands you your sketchpad, gently dusting off the pages.

You take it, a hesitant, "thanks," ghosts from your lips.

"I'm sorry about him." He says quietly.

You shrug. "Not your fault, I guess."

Seconds tick by as you both stare awkwardly at each other, unsure what else could be said.

"You're pretty. I-I mean, it-it's pretty." He stammers, tapping the unfinished sketch in your book. "You're very talented."

Your cheeks flush an undignified fuchsia as you duck your head slightly, letting your hair hide you. "Thank you."

He offers you a weak smile before giving you a halfhearted wave and jogging off across the field, leaving you watching his back, perplexed at the exchange you've had.

You stare at your messages, every moment he can see you're online and not replying makes your cheeks flush crimson and makes your mind run frantic.

Meet me at the Happy Holidays dance.

Could you?

It’s the first holiday dance your university has put on--one you had no intention of going to, because you frankly didn't need the added teasing from the popular kids. It is a masquerade ball however, so no one had to know it was you, you could fall pleasantly under the radar.

Were you really considering this?

What did you have to lose? You can hide behind the comfort of your mask. If he discovers it's you, it's his problem if he doesn't like that, Jimin is absolutely right.

Ok. Where will I find you?

You press send and chuck your phone down, throwing your head in your pillow to scream. Did you actually just do that!? No taking it back now, it's out there.

When you hear your text tone sound you scramble quickly back to it.

By the old sundial outside. At 10.00?

You grin dorkishly at your phone, typing a quick reply.

Sure. See you then.

You call your number one speed dial, two rings in and Jimin's voice sounds.

"I was just going to call you, how strange. Listen, do you remember that time I-?"

"I'm in need of some urgent assistance. I just agreed to go to the holiday dance!"

He cackles excitedly on the other end. "I'll be right over!"

As you step out of Jimin's car you have to lift your ice blue dress up to avoid the floor...and tripping. How Jimin pulled this costume together in time, you'll never know, he's taking that secret to the grave.

You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and adjust your matching lace mask, making sure it's comfortable.

"Ok, go get him tiger." He roars, as he swipes a clawed hand in front of you.

You giggle at his silly antics and take a deep breath before giving him a final nod and heading into the dance.

From the moment you walk in, you want to go home. This is a bad idea. He won't be interested when he finds out it's really you.

You have no time to continue your anguished thoughts as you get swept up in the crowd, fighting your way through to grab a drink. Standing to the side and surveying everyone's costumes, noticing a lot of dark or bright colour choices, you being one of the only people in a pale colour, making you stand out more. Something you were definitely hoping to avoid.

A few songs later and the clock in the hall catches your eye, noticing you had fifteen minutes until you meet your mystery man.

You head outside, footsteps echoing along the cobbled floor, and see that the outside is empty save for a few smoking and talking.

You get to the large, metal sundial and wait. Stomach churning from the butterflies that swarm wildly inside.

"Blue hour artist?" You hear your Tumblr tag spoken behind you and freeze.

You're about to meet him, come face to face with the person who understands you more than anyone, who opens up to you in ways most people wouldn't and who's creativity knows no bounds.

You turn slowly, not knowing who to expect but definitely not who you're faced with.

"Jeon Jungkook!? You're 'game over guk'?" You ask, your mouth popped open in shock.

He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "that's not fair, you're wearing a mask. How will I know who you are?"

You stare at him, trying to find words to answer his question, but the fact that it's him stood before you blows you away.

How could this be? The person you've been talking to online is the complete opposite to Jungkook and yet, here he is, one and the same.

"You'll h-have to guess." You try to get yourself together.

His mouth stretches into a toothy smile. "Ok, how about we play '21 questions' to help me guess?"

You nod, playing with your fingernails out of nerves.

"Do you want to sit down?" He asks, looking over at one of the benches.

"Um, no, I'd rather walk, if you don't mind?"

"Oh, sure." He agrees eagerly and you head off down the pathway around the building.

A few awkward side glances between the two of you and he finally asks, "Do we have any classes together?"

"No."

"Ok, narrows it down slightly."

You take this opportunity to look at what he's wearing and he's every part the Prince charming. In a white satin shirt, with light blue trousers and a one shoulder half capelet to match, complete with silver, trim detail. Surprisingly similar to your choice of dress, what a strange coincidence.

"You take art I assume?" He asks, into the comfortable silence.

You nod. "That's an obvious one." You refer to your Tumblr page full of your fan art and projects.

He smiles bashfully and your stomach flips at the sight, feeling like a true-life Disney princess with heart eyes and birds singing above your head.

"I don't know many girls in art." He admits,

"Ok, what about outside uni, do you go to any popular hangouts?"

Your cheeks flush, knowing you're admitting how dorky and uncool you are. "Nope."

"Ok, harder than I thought." He laughs, revealing his perfect teeth again. "Do you have a job?"

Nodding again, you play with the hem of your lace sleeve, channeling your nerves into the action.

As you're about to answer, your heel gets stuck in between the paving stone, causing you to buckle. Panic strikes you. You cannot fall over and embarrass yourself! Not when finding out who you are will be embarrassing enough. Luckily, you steady yourself against a nearby lamppost before falling on your face but at the cost of leaving your shoe stuck in the ground.

You tuck your leg up under your dress, steadying yourself against the street light, directly underneath the assaulting brightness, illuminating you like a spotlight.

Jungkook rushes over to your lonesome blue stiletto and retrieves it before crouching on one knee in front of you.

You stare at him, eyes wide and alarmed by his sudden closeness as he holds out your shoe in the most sincere way.

You bring your foot down and arch it back into its rightful holster. As you do, his fingertips graze your ankle, sending a flush of heat cascading up your body and neck, stopping only at your hairline.

He lingers there, looking up at you with huge doe eyes, but with a severe intensity you've never noticed from him before.

His fingers skate up your leg slightly as he rises, sending a delicious shiver through you. His fingers tips hint at your hand, you yearn to reach out and hold it, as he stands mere centimeters away from you. His intoxicating scent swirling around you like your own personal hurricane, taking your composed state and tearing through it, leaving it whimpering weakly on the ground. His face is too close to yours and yet not close enough. You feel feverish from his proximity and yet you need him closer to sate your heat.

Your breast vibrates from the aggressive pounding of your heart. Having him here on his knees in front of you, something not even acceptable in your wildest dreams and yet, here he is.

The person you've gotten to know so well, such a contrast to the person you've seen around campus. But then again, he seems to like the person he's gotten to know too, maybe he won't be as disappointed when he realises who you are? Maybe you can kid yourself into thinking that.

A chiming sounds in the distance, barely there and yet it creeps further into your subconscious.

"Your phone is ringing." He whispers, his breath tickling your face, as his eyes still blaze into yours.

'My phone. My phone? Oh, my phone!' Your muddled thoughts clear themselves enough for you to understand his words. You pull it out of your little silver handbag and see Jimin's number on screen.

"Hello?" You ask, staring dreamily at Jungkook who is rooted firmly in his spot.

"Ok, I apologise if you're throat-deep around prince charming’s dick but I really need to make it home before midnight so my dad doesn't turn me into a pumpkin...and by that I mean, pounded, pulped and pressed into pumpkin pie."

You snap out of it suddenly, realising Jimin's words and not wanting him to get in trouble because of you. "Of course. I'm coming, right now."

Jungkook's eyes flit back to reality with a deep frown. His hand clasps yours as you hang up and tuck your phone back into your bag. Your legs, already moving towards the front entrance where he would be waiting.

"Wait," Jungkook's pleading pierces right into your chest, feeling your resolve bubble up to the surface, enticing you to stay and see where the night takes you. But you don't.

"I can't, I have to go." You say, gently slipping your hand from his and jogging elegantly to the front parking lot.

When you see Jimin's dads silver Rolls Royce, you're suddenly eager to get in and share your news.

"So...did you meet him!?" An excited Jimin shakes your arm as you close the door behind you.

"Yes. You will never guess who he is." You fasten your belt and Jimin pulls off quickly, both of you wincing as he narrowly misses a barrier post on the way out of the campus.

"Who?"

You smile to yourself, heart fit to burst. "Jeon Jungkook."

Jimin's foot taps on the brakes, lurching you forward.

"I'm sorry. What?" He turns to you, eyes wider than you've ever seen them. "As in, popular boy, sex god Jungkook?"

You scoff. "Who told you he was a sex god?"

"I'm making assumptions. I'm sure you'll find out soon enough." He grins as he elbows you in the ribs and sets off driving you home, while excitement rapidly blooms inside you.

You dropped your necklace.

You read the words over and over, unsure what your response should be. You needed that necklace. The simple silver chain holding the tiny teardrop pearl. It was all you had left of your dad. When he died, your step-mother sold most of his things, including gifts he bought for you. This was your last, most cherished item. The only reason you were allowed to keep it is that you were wearing it at the time and you haven't taken it off since. Losing it had your chest aching. You stared at Jungkook's last message until sleep over took you.

Monday morning. Eyes gritty and burning, you wake to the sea of sleep trying to entice you back to its darkening depths but you fight your fluttering eyelids and get ready for a new day.

How are you going to look at Jungkook now? You should tell him who you are. Yes, you'll do that and get your necklace back and it'll be happily ever after.

Only it won't.

From your experience happily ever after doesn't happen for most people, even accomplished, brilliant, beautiful people. You're entirely average and ordinary, why would it happen for you?

By the time you get to campus, your manic mind has been changed numerous times. You decide to wait until you see him, which you spend every moment of your arrival scanning the faces that pass you.

"Hey, hey, Jelly Bean. Looking for me?" Jimin's cheerful face comes into full view, distracting you.

He's clearly unimpressed with whatever expression you're portraying currently, as he pouts and turns to the sea of faces. "Clearly, I no longer matter, now you've got big dick Jungkook."

You hush him loudly, looking around to ensure there were no listening ears. "Firstly, I'm begging you, stop talking about his dick and secondly, stop being stupid."

He laughs at your stressed rant. "Ok, ok, jeez. Is he meeting you this morning?"

Your body tenses, knowing, already hearing the lecture he's about to scold you with.

"You didn't tell him, did you? He still has no idea it's you!?" He sighs, throwing his hands in the air dramatically, typical Jimin fashion. "I swear to god...If you don't tell him, I will."

Your head snaps over to him as you walk side by side into the building, glaring menacingly in his direction. "You wouldn't dare."

He shrugs. "Try me, scaredy cat."

You huff and scrub at your tired eyes. "Let me just get through my classes then we shall discuss this."

He laughs as he tussles your hair and heads off in the opposite direction.

Your day passes fairly quickly, even though your struggle to stay awake during lectures only grows.

You do not see Jungkook, which is not unusual as you're not even in the same wings of the building most of the time.

Jimin's frantic waving has you puzzled as a deep frown creases your brow as you walk towards him, his jumping and pointing most unusual. It's only when you see a set of hands directly in front of you and feel your necklace land on your chest as it's draped across your collar bones, that you stop in your tracks.

Those hands, warm at the back of your neck and a mouth next to your ear saying, "I told you I'd look after it and return it." Unmistakably Jungkook's voice whispers in your ear making you quiver.

When his hands are gone you look down and find relief washing over you with the familiar feel of your necklace, having felt bare and empty without it.

"Why didn't you reply to my messages?" He asks, stepping in front of you with a big bunny smile.

Wide eyed with shock, your mouth gapes open with the slow realization that he is, in fact, talking to you. "How-how did you…" Words fail you as you frantically think of any way you might have let slip your identity but coming up empty.

"How did I know it was you?" He asks, mouth pulled on one side in a smile. "When you dropped your necklace as you left the dance, I recognized it instantly. "

"Wh-what?" You squeak out. You attempt to swallow your confusion enough to form a coherent sentence. "On what planet would someone like you notice anything about someone like me."

A look of hurt flashes across his face, almost as if you'd slapped him as he takes a step towards you, a hair's width away now. "How could I not notice you? You're beautiful and smart, you don't follow the crowd and you're kind to everyone, I've noticed everything the last two years. I've just never spoken to you properly because….well...what do I have to offer someone like you, with endless talents and interests, a charming personality to boot and just when I think that's all there is, I discover something else about you. I'm just the school jock, popularity gets me opportunities, I don't have to work hard for anything...I feel...inferior to you. Worthless."

Your heart aches, hearing the words you feel escaping his mouth. How could that be possible? How on earth could he be so utterly mistaken, so completely wrong about himself?

"But gameoverguk is nothing like that person you're describing. If that's truly who you are?" You question quietly.

He nods, placing a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to him.

"Hi, I'm Jeon Jungkook, I'm a gamer geek, I'm good at sports, I enjoy bike rides on the weekend and finding new food spots and I'd really like to take you out sometime...if you'll let me."

You feel your lips stretch into an undeniable grin. "Nice to finally meet you Jungkook. I'd love to."

As you aim the plastic machine gun, keeping it steady in your armpit and pointed towards the screen, you and Jungkook race through the game, taking down your enemies at every chance. When your team name, "Blue Hour Gamer" flashes in neon letters on screen as the winners, your hollering and hooting fill the arcade.

You don't even care that people are watching, not when you jump up and high five each other or when that high five turns into a hug, or when that hug very quickly turns into a kiss. You don't care.

You pull away quickly, embarrassment finding its way to dust your cheeks scarlet. Until you feel his hand press your lower back to him, your bodies crushing together and moving in perfect sync, making their own rhythm and inviting you to sing with it.

Heat blazes inside you like a wildfire, capturing everything else in its path and turning into thoughtless ash in the wind. Nothing else mattered, just him, his lips against yours, his hands on your skin, caressing so gently and yet setting your skin aflame.

Before you knew it, you were at his small, studio apartment, realising you had no clue he lived alone but thankful for that just the same.

When your back finds the bed, you sink into it, disappearing into a cloud of euphoria as he roams your body, slow and meaningful. Every touch makes you feel things you never have before, and every movement brings you closer to the edge of the precipice.

The way his mouth feels on you as he explores your body sends sparks of electricity racing through you. The way he feels inside you with each perfect, controlled movement lights you up like the sunrise after dark, warming you with its rays as you stare off the cliff edge and brace yourself for the impact. His hand caresses your cheek as he looks deeply into your eyes, something so sweet and pure in the action that your chest swells with emotion. His forehead touches yours as he moves in perfect time with your pounding heart. Suddenly you're falling, everything going past in a rush before crashing onto a sea of ecstasy, writhing and moaning until your climax subsides and his has joined in unison.

A tender kiss on your head, his arm winding around you, pulling you to him and encasing you in the perfect safety net is enough. Maybe he'll be your happily ever after, after all.

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hurricanes-art · 4 years ago

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i am interested in your hades au, would you mind giving some details about it? 👁 it looks really interesting

[This AU is from these drawings!]

*cracks knuckles* Ok! I actually got enough sleep last night so I'm finally feeling up to explaining this au lmao

Also I hope that by “some details” you meant “way way too many” because I am nothing if not long winded. Also @hades-hellsite asked for context too, here you go

The central premise is that, after he dies, Achilles manages to make an arrangement with Hades that allows both him and Patroclus to stay in Elysium together. He's not employed to work at the house and he never becomes Zagreus's combat trainer.

Hades makes a few attempts to find Zagreus a different teacher among the shades of great warriors, but being skilled does not make someone able to teach. And being able to teach one way doesn't mean someone will be good for every student. When Zagreus doesn't learn well with the few mentors Hades tries, which he barely gives a chance to breathe anyway, he's quick to decide that he must have no martial ability and declares Zagreus a failure in that as he has about so many things.

This has two major effects on Zagreus before his escape attempts begin. One, without any chance to actually grow into aptitude in combat, he's left without anything substantial to put his energy into and, more importantly, he's left without anything he feels good at and that gives value to his efforts. Two is that, in Achilles' absence, very few people in the house give him any care and support untwisted by the politics of the house and the judgment of his father. There is Orpheus, kind to him before Hades locks him away for refusing to sing, Hypnos, willing to put the house to sleep so he can find the truth though jumbled up in his own problems, and Nyx.

Nyx is the only one to aid Zagreus when he decides to try to escape. She contacts Olympus and weaves careful lies to win their support and blesses his departure. She's also the only one who believes that Zagreus has the slightest chance of escaping. Already in canon, most everyone tells him there no way he'll make it out, but here, it's so much worse. He doesn't know how to fight, his initial attempts are pitiful and his progress negligible, and near everyone lashes out at him to get back in line and stop making things worse.

He doesn't even have the Infernal Arms. Achilles is the one who brings them to him in canon; here Zagreus takes a simple bronze sword from one of the house's many displays of weapons from wars long past. He thanks the Fates that the Styx restores it the same way it does his body when he dies because he nicks and dulls the edges every time.

Despite all the disadvantages, Zagreus throws himself into escaping with unshakable determination, bone deep stubbornness. He picks up his sword and will figure out how to use it himself. Experience will be his teacher. He dies over and over and he watches his enemies and learns how they move and how he must react, mimicking their attacks for his own use and adjusting and adjusting after each failure. And contrary to Hades' adamant belief, Zagreus is very intelligent and learns brilliantly when allowed to and he grows stronger and stronger.

There's no teacher more savage than experience in something like this, though. The pursuit is agonizing and the cost is enormous and adjusting to this ceaseless violence feels impossible.

Much of my interest in this idea is how the added strain on his circumstances and relationships affects Zagreus and his mental state. At his best, Zag looks a lot like he does in canon, with his laurels unfurled and vibrant, and his feet glowing hot, but he rarely feels his best here. His laurel leaves curl in dry and crisp, muted like the leaves of autumn. Flakes of ash and soot build up over his legs and encase more and more as he suffers. So deep is his feeling of failure and being trapped that it affects him physically.

Not always, though. His flames respond to his emotions, burn brighter in his passion. Enthusiasm, love, fervor, bliss, anger set him glowing.

After a brutally drawn out span of time, Zagreus meets Achilles and Patroclus in Elysium and tbh, the rest of my interest is really in how the altered circumstances change the evolution of their relationships with each other. The pair of warriors were never separated for an extended time and Achilles is less downtrodden and resigned and Patroclus is less bitter and abrasive when Zagreus stumbles upon them.

They don't fight him, which Zagreus counts among his greatest blessings, although Achilles still seems to have an interest. It makes him twitchy and he jumps when Achilles finally lifts his spear and swings it around in his third time in their little glade only to bump the flat of the blade against elbow and tell him to keep it in more towards his body. Zagreus blinks rapidly at him before adjusting his arm.

Achilles helps him here and there, tips and tricks and valuable advice, but he never gives anything near the thorough instruction he did in canon. On one hand, he doesn't need to. Zagreus is a self made fighter and it leaves him with weaknesses but it is also a powerful thing. He is unpredictable and incredibly adaptable and he only continues to improve.

On the other hand, there's no room for it. Achilles is gentle with his guidance, but Zagreus is rubbed raw by all the fighting he's done and all that still depends on it. He doesn't want to always focus on the weapon in his hands. Patroclus notices and curbs Achilles' input when it exceeds its bounds. He sits aside and observers carefully when they spar. Zagreus doesn't need another's direction which is fine by him, who's lost all desire for combat. He gives his aid through his assortment of trinkets that carry Zagreus further to the surface.

Zagreus barely knows what to do with himself in the face of their care. He's so unaccustomed to such generous and genuine support, interest devoid of expectation or blame. As familiarity between the three of them grows, their interactions grow warmer, more tender and comfortable. Their care lays on a foundation, not a hinge, and Zagreus grapples with understanding that he really can lean on it. It all leaves him so uncertain yet so desperate because he wants more than anything to have joy and conversation and company with others where he doesn't shoulder heavy guilt from unspoken accusations over his escaping the house and to have a place he feels he belongs without being an intrusion.

He does at first believe he's intruding, though. Intruding on their time together in the peace of Elysium. It takes them time to convince him that they value his presence immeasurably. The opportunity to stay together in the Underworld has been invaluable for Achilles and Patroclus, but the peace of Elysium is a deceptive thing. It wears away and prickles at them, pressing down in odd warping ways. Patroclus is beyond pleased to have the war behind him and that it can never force him to fight again, and despite Achilles retaining an interest in competition and combat, he does feel the same way. Having a cause though, something to believe in and worth devoting their efforts towards... They didn't realize how deeply they missed it until Zagreus. It is revitalizing. They thrive in his genuine, boundless kindness and long to support him.

The drawings of Orpheus arguing with Hades and Zagreus fighting with Nyx is from one of my plot point ideas. Later down the line, together, Hades, Persephone, and Nyx agree to forbid Zagreus from seeing Achilles and Patroclus at Nyx's behest. Similarly to how she talks about Dusa in canon, she sees mortal shades as beneath his station and that it's highly unbecoming for the prince to be consorting with them. Zagreus fights against the idea ferociously and is only smothered by the threat that, if he seeks them out anyway, Hades will void Achilles' agreement and have Patroclus moved to the proper plane of the Underworld.

It crushes Zagreus. He loves them and cares about them so much and being torn apart from them is a wound that cuts so deep. But even more than that, what breaks him open most, is the fact that it came from someone he cared for and trusted most. Nyx was the one person in the House he could depend on most and this betrayal at her hand is devastating. And for such a worthless reason as propriety and godly vanity. It's not her place to force those upon him. It hurts Zagreus to the core.

Orpheus is the only one willing to stick up for him in this, deeply empathetic to the grief of being separated from loved ones and well acquainted with the fact that such punishments will only damage, never correct. After all, his stint of punishment in Erebus didn't revive his desire to sing, it was Zagreus's dedication and vibrancy that did that. One of the many invaluable gifts Zagreus gave him, including reuniting him with Eurydice, making him happier than he'd been since her death. Orpheus can't keep biting his tongue when all these gods refuse to see any of this.

It all comes to a head dramatically and painfully and I've thought of a few variations on how it would play out. I'll leave it for now though, I might draw it or write it later >:3c Also this got really long lol. Hopefully the idea is at least somewhat interesting!

And here, have the lines from these two drawings because I like the way they look

#hades game #hades supergiant #zagreus #achilles #patroclus #nyx #orpheus #god of ash au #which is a tag i might not use again lol #my art #my writing #i guess #this is so long please forgive me #i had one thought of achilles not working at the house and it drove me to madness #apparently

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g4rous · 3 years ago

Text

Sunlit memories (Garou x Reader)

tags: fem! Reader, no warnings lol, this is just the first chapter a.k.a the introduction

words: 1.1k

notes: ok so this is the first chapter of the series that I plan to write, so pls feel free to give me some feedback on this and whether you like it and should I continue :'0 💕 Thanks a lot for any kind of support ee 💗

series masterlist

Chapter one

Playful footsteps scattered across the freshly-cut grass, followed by a few equally spirited barks. Whether the small chocolate-colored dog was chasing the ball or the children lay undetermined, nonetheless they all seemed amused. A mother stood next to the gleeful dog owner, both exchanging chuckles and commenting on how adorable the sight in front of them is. Above them dozens of birds filled the air with a familiar amicable tune, as if the soothing music coming from a nearby café wasn’t enough. The park was never lonely, yet so pleasant at the same time. All those chirps, chatters and noises were like an extra spark, and frankly it’d be rather uncanny if it weren’t for them and the pastel sky above, radiant with soft hues. Cases where belligerent monsters ruined the harmony were rare, although enough to cause one to succumb to unease. Be that as it may, people always push through it and find a reason to enjoy the now sunlit park.

Though, while it was interesting to observe the scenery it wasn’t quite what you were looking for. Fiddling with the pencil in your hand, you stared displeased at the blank page of your sketchbook.

“Why isn’t there anything interesting today?” you pondered, eyes impatiently shifting over the scenery.

Almost every day for the past few weeks you’ve been sitting at this very bench, looking out for something eye-catching to draw. It’s funny how you coincidentally came across your now daily go-to place, a surprisingly comfy wooden bench underneath two large oaks, their treetops creating enough shade for another twenty people. Luckily you had your own peace there without anyone bothering you.

“Hmm… Maybe I just don’t feel like drawing people?”

After a small sigh you leaned against your hand and looked up at the treetops. The sky turned golden already, painting the leaves in shades of olive and amber. Your eyes steadily trailed down to the path next to the old oaks, now noticing a small patch of lilies that with their vivid hues and delicate form drew you in almost immediately.

“Huh. Maybe I should just go for something simple and quick?”

Well, that was what you though right before something else caught your eye. Someone to be exact. A few meters away a rather peculiar-looking guy sat on a bench. He leaned against the bench leisurely while folding his arms, his tight black shirt complementing his muscular built. His gaze was relaxed, albeit alert, and his features were sharp. Sunlight peeked on his wild, silver hair, coloring it with subtle sandy hues almost matching with the golden in his eyes.

Now, if this didn’t give you inspiration then what did? And here you thought you’d be drawing those lilies. You sighed in content, stretching your arms for a few seconds before you got to work. Subtly glancing at his direction from time to time, you had already outlined the portrait. Though, truth be told, he had such a pretty face you were trying not to stare at one point.

“What are you doing?”

You didn’t even manage to let go of your pencil before an unknown voice jolted you out of your thoughts. Much to your bewilderment you looked up to see that same man now only half a meter away, glaring at you.

“Well shit.”

Should you apologize or straight up act like you weren’t just secretly drawing some random person? Or better yet, how the hell is that same person in front of you right now? You were embarrassed as much as you were confused and to make things worse the drawing wasn’t even in your sketchbook anymore.

“Are you a hero or something? I don’t remember seeing you anywhere.” the man asked, shifting his gaze from the drawing in his hand to you.

“Hey when did you take that?!” you finally spoke, an apology being far from your mind at the moment.

On one hand it could be legitimate since you didn’t ask for permission to draw him in the first place, but on the other… What kind of punk would just rip the piece out like that?

“If you’re some c-class dunce trying to gather info on me with this-“, he grinned, still analyzing the art piece “-you’re gonna be sorry pretty soon.”

“Dude I’m not a hero.”

“Wait, what?”

That threatening, cocky grin of his from a moment ago dissipated into thin air like it was nothing, but your confused expression on the other hand only grew bigger. Was he serious?

A soft shade of pink made its way to his face for a brief moment, to which you almost chuckled.

“So you’re seriously not a hero?”

“Um, no..?”

“Your luck.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” He headed the opposite direction of you, drawing still in hand.

“Ahh so… can I get that back now please?” you walked behind him, surprised he’s oh so casually trying to leave the scene after such odd behavior.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Aw what, why??”

“Let’s just say it isn’t convenient for me at the moment to have that lying around wherever,” he put both hands in his pockets, “plus I didn’t say you could draw me did I?”

Now your face turned red in embarrassment again. He was right… Though, you still couldn’t help but wonder who this strange guy is. While tearing that drawing out of your valued sketchbook didn’t make for the best first impression, his demeanor wasn’t really belligerent either.

“Ah, sorry about that… However I must say it wasn't polite to take the drawing away like that either.”

His eyes slightly widened in embarrassment before turning away his face again.

"Eh..."

"Don't worry about it though," you smiled for a moment, "I guess it was just a weird misunderstanding or something."

Your eyes shifted on the path you were walking on, already dim because of the now darker sky, “if I may ask, is someone like… searching for you or something?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he glanced back at you, “why are you still following me anyway!? Just go home it’s getting dark.”

“Well, this is the way I take in order to get back home so you can’t really complain,” you smiled to his mild annoyance.

The night sky engulfed the city by now, leaving behind a tranquil atmosphere. Nonetheless, compared to the center of the city, your street wasn’t as bustling. Light shone from the surrounding apartments and lamp posts, and the only sounds present were from the neighbors’ TV’s or the occasional car passing by, much in contrast with the city’s center and night life.

You didn’t ask many more questions as you walked, despite the faint haze in your mind. The man obviously wasn’t too chatty, yet alone keen on sharing any personal details. Be as it may, much to your surprise what you thought would be an awkward walk was actually somewhat refreshing. Hell, you even let out a laugh or two together. Who would’ve thought the on-first-glance intimidating teen is pleasant to be around? Or, well, at least you thought of it like that. In any case way better than walking through those dark alleys alone.

next chapter

#feel free to tell me your thoughts 💕#garou #garou x reader #opm x reader #opm #one punch man x reader #one punch man #garou headcanons #garo

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one-boring-person · 4 years ago

Text

Requested by: @phantomshadow13

I had fun writing this, so I hope you like reading it!😊💛

Not One To Brag.

Gunnar Jensen (The Expendables) x reader

Warnings: swearing

Masterlist

It's surprisingly brisk in the hangar this morning, especially for mid-July, the five mercenaries bustling about all wearing thicker shirts under their body armour, most also wearing gloves, though this is more of a choice made to protect their hands against possible threat in their upcoming job, as opposed to fighting off the cold. Breath materializes in the air as pale mist, blowing past parted lips in lazy gusts, curling around the face of each man respectively as they go about their usual tasks. Light conversation runs back and forth, mostly between Caesar, Toll and Gunnar, as Lee and Barney bicker amongst themselves over in the corner, as they always do.

In his hands, Gunnar's allocated handgun looks small, the grip dwarfed by his long fingers as he checks it over, slotting it into a holster at his hip as he goes to inspect some of the more heavy artillery they'll be taking with them. He can't think of anything more annoying than having to carry that stuff through a sweltering jungle in Ecuador - the most destructive guns all weigh far too much to carry comfortably in suffocating humidity, but for whatever reason Barney insisted on taking them along. Both Caesar and Gunnar had complained, knowing they'll be stuck carrying the burdens around, being the tallest of the group and all, but their boss hadn't relented.

Even now, Gunnar has to fight back an exasperated sigh as he heaves a minigun up, checking over the chain of rounds and firing mechanisms for possible faults: If he has to lug that thing around, he'd at least like to know it works. Smoothing a hand down the barrel, he feels it over to make sure there are no weaknesses to it, before he puts it down, inspecting the trigger, trigger guard and safety over just as carefully. In doing so, he fails to notice Barney calling out to someone until he hears his name being roped into the sentence.

"Gunnar! There's a girl here to see you!" Lee shouts back at him from his position beside Barney, the Brit craning his neck to find the Swede.

Frowning, the tall blonde straightens and steps out from behind the plane, a surprised look crossing his face as he sees who it is. Instantly, he goes over, ignoring the remarks as he passes Caesar and Toll Road, who he distinctly catches saying "I didn't know he had a daughter".

Unsurprisingly, (Y/n) looks terribly out of place amongst the varied weaponry around her, the young woman eyeing a nearby crate of hand grenades with slight unease in her expression. Her civilian clothing is also a marked difference, a stark contrast with the thick body armour the others wear, serving to draw yet more attention to herself. Despite all this, however, she is smiling politely, a box in her hands as she waits for Gunnar to reach her, unsure of how much farther into the hangar she should go. She isn't left waiting for long, as the Swede's long legs bring him over to her very quickly.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Is something wrong? Are you ok?" He immediately asks her, still ignoring the stares of his comrades as they watch the interaction.

"I'm fine, don't worry. Everything's ok." She chuckles, waving him off, "You just forgot your lunch, that's all."

He blinks, stopping still, the notion completely lost on him, given his profession: he rarely even thought to bring lunch, so being told he forgot it is almost a shock to the system. Behind him, he can almost feel the others lifting their eyebrows, concealed amusement already waiting for him when he turns around again.

"My lunch?" He questions, somewhat confused.

"Yeah, I made you lunch, remember? You left it in the fridge this morning. Thought I'd try and get it to you before you left the country." (Y/n) reminds him, stepping closer to hand him the box, her eyes travelling to the others as she leans in to whisper to him, "Should I have brought them something?"

"No, no, don't worry. They're all covered." Gunnar laughs gently, taking the box sheepishly, now remembering what she meant as he pulls her into his waist awkwardly, "Thanks, love."

"No problem." She smiles wider, leaning up on her toes to press a swift kiss to his cheek.

Behind him, Lee manages an awkward cough, clearly trying to remind them that they're still around his colleagues. Pulling back, Gunnar looks to the rest of the hangar, gesturing to each of the others respectively.

"Sorry, I should've introduced you. That's Toll Road, Caesar, Lee and my boss, Barney." The four others nod, saying brief "hello"s, smiling politely at her.

"Good to finally meet you, (Y/n)." Barney greets, his rough voice sounding friendly as he addresses her.

"Yeah, we haven't heard much about you." Lee agrees, amusement lacing his tone as he sends a pointed look Gunnar's way.

"Not one to brag." The blonde responds, shrugging with a grin as he holds (Y/n) against him.

At that, everyone in the room snorts, including his girlfriend, finding that statement highly amusing.

"What?" Gunnar protests, looking around at them all.

"I think we all know you could brag for Sweden." (Y/n) laughs, slapping his chest lightly as the others agree.

"She's right. You haven't got a modicum of modesty." Barney chimes in, leaning back against a nearby crate.

"That's not true!" Gunnar tries to disagree, only to be interrupted.

"Bullshit. You brag like you got something to brag about." Caesar quips, smirking at his words.

"Got more to brag about than you do." Gunnar responds, "Good aim, for one."

Caesar goes to argue, only for Lee to cut in.

"Alright, ladies, keep it together." His snide tone makes (Y/n) laugh quietly, the young woman watching the exchange with interest.

Gunnar and Caesar both grumble, clearly not pleased with being reprimanded.

"I'm gonna go, then. I'll see you in two days, ok?" She says, turning to Gunnar properly.

"Yeah, see you then." He smiles down at her, pressing a careful kiss to her lips.

Pulling back, she moves out of his grip, but not before turning back to him once more.

"Be safe, don't get yourself killed. If you do, I'll personally pull your heavy ass back into the world of the living so I can kick it for being so stupid." She smirks at him, waving to all the others as she leaves for real.

Silence settles on the others, during which time Gunnar moves back over to the minigun he was fussing with before.

"For a guy who never shuts up, you really managed to keep her quiet." Barney comments from across the room, chuckling as he starts to polish his revolver.

"Is that why you stopped hitting on every woman you saw? I did wonder." Toll chips in, the others agreeing.

"Like I said, I don't like to brag." Gunnar shrugs again, choosing to ignore the friendly jibes.

The others all groan in exasperation, Lee and Caesar scoffing at the confession.

"We are not having this conversation again!" Barney says, before anyone else can.

#the expendables #the expendables imagine #Gunnar Jensen #Gunnar Jensen x reader #dolph lundgren

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wrenhyperfixates · 4 years ago

Text

Gold Writing

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When a charming, handsome stranger gives you inspiration for the first time in weeks, you try to guess what it is he’s famous for in exchange for his name. Warnings: none at all :) A/N: Just a little idea I’d been toying around with for a bit. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot

Disclaimer: Gif and picture not mine

It was an uncharacteristically warm day for this time of year in New York City. Or so you’d been told, anyway. You had been living here for three months, tops; not really long enough to have a feel for the weather patterns. Either way, you were grateful for the sun’s rays coating your face, bathing you in their heat.

You turned your face away from the sky and down towards the sketchbook in your lap. It had been your hope that Central Park might inspire you, but you were still having artist’s block. It was at least better than being cooped up in your apartment all day. You didn’t really know anyone yet, save for your old friend who you had moved in next to. If it hadn’t been for them encouraging you, you probably never would have packed up and moved. They’d promised to introduce you to some people they knew, too, so you wouldn’t get lonely. Sadly, the scheduling never worked out.

And so, here you were, alone on a bench. Looking at all the couples and families and friends bustling and laughing around you, you thought you might be the only person all by yourself on this Saturday afternoon. Well, no, not the only one, you realized, spying a raven-haired man on a bench not too far away. His nose was buried in a book, a few locks of his shiny, dark hair falling out of his bun and framing his face. He looked familiar, but not in a "you knew him" sort of way. More in that you thought he might be famous somehow. No one else seemed to notice him, though.

You glanced back down at the empty pages, waiting to be filled by the strokes of your pencil. Then you looked back at the mystery man again, scooting a little closer to the end of your bench. Without really thinking about it, your deft fingers picked up your standard 2B pencil and began to sketch.

Starting with the sharp lines of his jaw, you moved onto his hair that intrigued you so. You don’t think you’d ever seen another person with hair that dark a color. Trying to get every last detail right, you kept glancing up and down. By the time you were onto the shading, you were certain that you had seen him somewhere before. The next time you glanced up, he was gone, and a frown settled on your features as you looked left and right, searching for the only subject to inspire you in days.

“It is a lovely drawing, darling,” a smooth baritone voice with a British accent said from behind you, “but I do not really think that is my best angle.”

You squeaked in surprise and dropped your sketchbook. The man somehow managed to reach out in front of you and catch it. He came to sit next to you, and as he walked around the bench, you realized just how tall he was.

“I think you dropped this,” he said with a charming smile, handing your sketchbook to you.

“I, uh, yeah. I did,” you stammered, hating how you couldn’t be as suave as him. Plus, he was unfairly good looking. “Thank you. And, um, sorry. About, you know, drawing you.”

“On the contrary, darling, there is no need to apologize. I am quite happy to have my likeness captured in such a flattering light,” he chuckled, taking off his sunglasses and revealing his brilliant blue-green eyes. “Really, I should be thanking you.”

With all the small details you were gathering, it felt like his name was on the tip of your tongue. Infuriatingly enough, you still couldn’t place it. You didn’t think he was a singer, that didn’t feel right. Though you did feel like his mesmerizing voice would be well suited to it. So, a well-known author, perhaps? He had been reading, after all. But you were woefully behind on your own reading list, so you had a feeling it wasn’t that either. You briefly wondered what even happened to the book he’d had; it was nowhere on him, almost like he’d stored it in some pocket of space.

“Oh,” you finally responded, nervously laughing. “You’re welcome, in that case. And thank you. For the compliments, I mean.”

“Ah, you are very welcome, too. It is not often I meet such a talented artist.” He somehow managed to sprawl out on the somewhat uncomfortable park bench, his long legs spread wide. It wasn’t indecent, exactly, but it somehow felt like it was. His arms were resting on the back of the seat so that, had you been leaning back, one of them would have been wrapped around your shoulder. “I do somehow find it hard to believe I was the most interesting thing in the vicinity, however. Though, I suppose I am rather flattered by that notion, too.”

His mischievous grin sent pleasant shivers down your spine. “Well, when inspiration strikes,” you anxiously chuckled with a shrug. Your nerves were still telling you he was about to get mad at any second.

“I do suppose that is true.” He cocked his head at you in the most adorable way. “Then I am honored to provide you with it.”

You suddenly felt even warmer than you had before, but you knew it had nothing to do with the sun anymore, but rather was from this enrapturing stranger. Though, this man’s smile certainly rivaled the sun.

“I hope you don’t mind my asking,” you began, “but you seem awfully familiar. You don’t happen to be famous, do you?”

“Oh, so you have not yet figured it out, then. I had been wondering. I suppose that, yes, I could be considered famous.”

When he didn’t say anything else, you continued, “Can I get a name then? I’m afraid I don’t really keep up with pop culture all that much.”

“Well, I suppose I could tell you my name.” His grin somehow grew to be even more mischievous. “But where is the fun in that? Besides, I am afraid you might start treating me differently if you knew.”

“Ok, that’s fair.” A spark of excitement lit behind your eyes as you got an idea and turned to face the captivating stranger. “How about this, I get three guesses about what it is you’re known for. If I get it right, you have to tell me your name. If not, then it can stay a mystery forever, if you want it to.”

“A most intriguing proposition. Alright, I accept. First guess?”

“Hang on,” you said, putting up your hand. “If I only get three guesses, I feel like it would be fair if I got to talk to you for a bit longer, at least. Unless I’m holding you up from something, of course.”

“I have time to spare, darling.” He stood up and offered you his hand. “Join me on a walk?”

An easy dialogue flowed between you as you strolled through the park. The way the light was illuminating his features made your hands itch to sketch him again. That reminded you to ask about his book, which he pulled out from seemingly nowhere.

“Hang on,” you said, getting your first idea. “Are you like a-a magician or a, um, an illusionist or something?”

“Well, it is interesting that you mention that. Magic is more a hobby than anything else,” he replied. “But not what I am known for, per se. Two guesses left.”

You frowned and flipped through the pages of the book he’d handed you. Hoping he’d made some kind of foolish error, you checked the covers for his name. No such luck. Absorbed in your hunt for clues, you weren’t paying attention to the world around you. Your companion suddenly grabbed you and jerked you to a stop. A ball whizzed past your head. If you’d kept walking, it surely would have hit you.

“You really should be more careful,” he playfully tsked. Then he grew more serious as he gently turned your head, checking for injuries. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, feeling flustered from the attention of his piercing gaze. He also felt surprisingly cool for how warm out it was. You looked up at him and saw him raising his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe you. “I’m fine, really,” you added more convincingly. “Just my pride that’s wounded, I guess. But you stopped me in time. So, thank you.”

“It was no problem, darling,” he replied as you set off on the path again. “After all, I can’t have you getting hurt before you finish guessing, now can I?”

Again, you giggled, simultaneously loving and hating how he had that effect on you. “No, I guess not.”

“So, have you found whatever it is your looking for in my book?”

Glancing down at the page you had open, you saw it was the story of Rumpelstiltskin. How ironic. You tried to forge a connection between the book of fairytales and this man in your mind, but were coming up empty. Unless, of course, he was going to the source material for some reason, like he was preparing for a role.

“An actor!” you said, feeling sure you’d gotten it now. You’d definitely felt like you’d seen him on your TV screen before. Plus, he was definitely handsome enough for it. “That’s got to be it.”

“While I have appeared on television before, that is still incorrect, darling. One guess remaining.”

Oh how you wanted to wipe that smug yet ridiculously captivating grin from his face. Maybe with a kiss... Nope, no. That was ridiculous; you just met him. Besides, he was famous. Why on God’s green earth would he be interested in you as anything more than an entertaining encounter to pass the afternoon? So, you’d just have to do it with the right guess. You put your thinking cap on.

“Ok, well if you were on TV but aren’t an actor, maybe it was in an interview,” you thought out loud, gauging his reaction. You were excited, but also sad that your game was coming to a close. He’d surely leave after, whether you got it right or not. You supposed you could always try to look it up once you got home, if you couldn’t guess correctly. At least it would make for a fun story then. “I suppose there’s reality shows too, but that doesn’t quite seem your style. And, I guess you could be doing the interviewing—like a reporter or something—but that doesn’t sit quite right either. Sports! They televise sports. Plus I’m not really a fan, so I could believe I’ve heard of you but not totally recognize you. So, my final guess is athlete.”

“And you are certain that is your final guess?” He had a wonderful poker face and gave away nothing as to whether or not it was right. “Last chance to turn back.”

You appraised him, thinking he looked like he could be an athlete. And maybe it was some reverse psychology, trying to get you to abandon the correct guess. You didn’t really have any better ideas, anyway.

“Yes?”

“So sorry, but that is incorrect. And you are regretfully out of guesses, darling.”

“Of course it's not,” you sighed. He seemed genuinely saddened by how dismayed you seemed, so you perked up. “It was fun, though. So I, uh, I guess I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“You are correct; this was quite fun. Unfortunately, I do have another arrangement to get to,” he said in a way that made you believe he was actually upset over it. “How about that sketch that started this all, though? That one you made of me?”

“What of it?” you asked.

“May I buy it off of you?”

Your mouth formed a surprised little circle. “I mean, you can honestly have it for free. It is an unsolicited picture of you, after all. I wouldn’t feel right accepting your money for it.”

“Nonsense, I am only offering a small amount, anyway. Say, the price of a cup of coffee?”

You smiled at your feet as you caught onto what he was saying. It made your insides feel fuzzy. Maybe you wouldn’t accept, though. After all, you still didn’t know who he was. But if you were to go on a date, then certainly he would tell you.

“Sure,” you agreed. “I would love that.”

You tore out the sketch and handed it to him. In exchange, he gave you his card and said to call him to set a time and place. You glanced down at the small paper in your hands, not yet reading it. By the time you looked back up, he was already gone. With your handsome stranger nowhere to be found, you went to actually read his information. Unable to contain your surprise, not to mention shock at how foolish you were, you gasped, and your jaw hung open.

Gold writing on a green card held the secret you’d been trying to find the answer to all afternoon. Of course he was an Avenger, a hero. You ran your fingers over his name, a small smile forming on your lips. You quickly punched the contact into your phone and headed off in the direction of your apartment.

“Well, I’m glad this isn’t goodbye, Loki Laufeyson,” you mused to yourself, relishing in the way his name rolled off your tongue. “I’ll see you soon.”

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titilationexpress · 3 years ago

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StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1

First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.

You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.

Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?

Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.

Transformers.

Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.

With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.

And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.

What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.

Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.

You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.

You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.

And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.

Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”

That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.

Then that one question came.

‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’

Then another.

‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’

Then another.

‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’

More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.

But this only made you reluctant to write for him.

True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.

You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.

…

You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.

You were in Decepticon headquarters.

Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.

At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”

Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”

The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.

“Beware, better have a care,”

The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.

“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”

Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.

“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”

Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.

“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”

And never leave.

I’ve got you where I want you,”

And never let you escape this dream.

“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”

And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.

“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”

Or…

“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”

Did you?

“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”

You were close. So dangerously close.

“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”

Just a turn around the corner.

“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”

He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.

“...bad little girls like you.”

It was him.

Starscream.

Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.

“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”

You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”

The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”

“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”

Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”

Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”

“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”

Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”

This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”

You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”

Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.

“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”

Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.

You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”

“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”

“I...I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”

“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”

Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”

What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”

The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”

You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-

“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”

Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”

He smiled. “I am.”

You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”

“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”

You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.

“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”

All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”

“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”

God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”

“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”

“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.

“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”

You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”

“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”

“How?”

“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”

You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.

Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?

Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?

#starscream g1 #starscream #tfp #transformers bayverse #transformers animated #transformers cyberverse #transformers x reader #lemon #set up #fanfic #reader #self insert #first part

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lawslessons · 4 years ago

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Not So Tough Now, Huh?

Not So Tough Now, Huh? (Zoro x Luffy)

Hello! This is inspired by the amazing @xruffyx drawing of Zoro and Luffy where Zoro is holding Luffy up by his shirt. I saw that drawing and thought of a cute and somewhat spicy little one shot to honor the amazing art piece! Please check them out and send them all my love xx

https://xruffyx.tumblr.com/post/636611591540998144/yeah-more-zolu-redraws-because-i-do-not-know-how

Warnings: Teasing, Suggestive Behavior

Synopsis: Challenge accepted. Luffy, Chopper and Usopp decide to see who can manage to wake up the swordsman first. But little do they know that Zoro has a little trick up his sleeve for his captain.

No one knew what exactly spurred Luffy’s mood, and they were all too amused to even ask why this was happening. But it seemed to be a rather average, uneventful day on the Thousand Sunny when Luffy came to the middle of the lawn deck and started to smile.

“I want to play a game!” Luffy laughed. Chopper and Usopp both looked at each other in excitement, they both smiled and looked at their captain with stars in their eyes.

“A game? What game?” Chopper asked as he clapped his hooves together and moved to be standing on top of a box to be more at Luffy’s height. Luffy sported his signature toothy smile and rested his hands against the box.

“Zoro is sleeping, right?” Luffy asked. Usopp rose a brow and looked around the deck. Nami and Robin were both talking to one another, steam was coming from the kitchen so he knew Sanji was in there. A slight hum could he heard too, so he knew Franky was in his workshop while Brook worked on orchestrating a new piece.

“I think? He’s supposed to be watching out of the crow’s nest to see if any ships are getting close,” Usopp explained, but Zoro sleeping came as a surprise to no one. “But Luffy, what does that have to do with your game?” Usopp asked his grinning captain.

“Perfect! It’s everything. I wanna see who can wake Zoro up first,” Luffy explained with a cheeky smirk. Usopp and Chopper both felt the blood drain from their cheeks at that suggestion.

“Luffy, isn’t that dangerous? Zoro may be upset by that,” Chopper pointed out, but he was honestly just saying that out of fear for himself. Luffy simply laughed away the concern and shook his head.

“It’ll be fine! Come on, it’ll be fun!” Luffy said before he grabbed both of his friends by the hand and moved to run up to the crow’s nest. When they were there, Luffy pointed to the door and nodded. “He’s asleep.” He stated.

“Shouldn’t you be more upset by that?” Usopp scoffed to which Luffy shook his head.

“No one is here! It’s ok,” He assured his friends before he pointed to Chopper. “You’re first.” Luffy said to the small creature. Chopper gasped and moved to hide behind Usopp’s leg.

“Me? Why me?!” Chopper asked as he glared up at the captain. Luffy shrugged and started to scratch at his chest. “Because you always have the best ideas.” That seemed to be all Chopper needed to snap out of his funk. He smiled and started to dance around and giggle.

“It’s not like you saying that makes me happy or anything, idiot!” Chopper giggled to which Usopp sighed.

“You’re too easy...”

After a couple minutes of thinking, Chopper opened the door rather loudly with an armful of medical paraphernalia in his arms. “Oi, Zoro! I need your help! Someone’s dying!” Chopper exclaimed. The swordsman didn’t seem to notice Chopper being in the room, he continued to snore and relax under the afternoon sun. “You’re dying...?” Chopper tried next with no avail. He stood there for a minute before he pulled away, sighing. “He won’t wake up!” Chopper complained as he put his supplies back in his backpack and looked over at Usopp and Luffy.

“Usopp, you’re next!” Luffy said as he tried to shove Usopp into the room. Nearly on the verge of tears, Usopp grabbed at the doorframe and looked back at Luffy.

“I can’t Luffy, I have an incurable disease known as I-am-scared-Zoro-will-kill-me-if-I-wake-him-up disease!” Usopp proclaimed as he started to use his feet against the door frame to stop Luffy from pushing him in. Luffy pouted and pulled back after that.

“I thought you were the bravest one here,” Luffy mumbled, and within seconds, Usopp was away from the doorframe and standing tall and proud in front of them. Usopp smirked and ran his thumb and pointed finger along his jaw until it met at his chin.

“You’re right about that, Luffy. I am the bravest man in the world, the conquer of all seas, Captain Usopp!” Usopp declared as he stuck his hand up in the air and quickly brought it down in a fist. Chopper gasped in excitement and clapped his little hands together.

“Amazing!” Chopper praised to which Usopp smirked.

“I shall be the one who wakes him up! No one else can beat me!” Usopp said as he went into the room with a brave look on his face. But the moment he laid eyes on Zoro, his entire bravado fell. “Oh.” he said in realization. And before he could back out, the door behind him was shut and he heard giggling. Panicking, Usopp began to bang his fists against the door. “Oi, Luffy! Chopper! Open the door!” He loudly whispered as his banging became as panicked as his voice. “Please! He’s going to kill me!” Usopp pleaded. After a minute of deliberation between Chopper and Luffy, and more begging from Usopp, the door was finally opened and Usopp fell down with an unsatisfactory thud. “I am never doing that again!” Usopp stated as he pushed his laughing captain away from him.

“It’s your turn now Luffy!” Chopper said with a big smile on his face. Luffy didn’t look phased, he smiled and looked at the now closed door.

“I can do it,” Luffy said before he walked inside of the room. Within an instant, the door was closed on him and he heard Usopp and Chopper snickering behind the door. Luffy looked around and saw Zoro resting his back against the wall and sleeping. His soft snores filled the room and Luffy slowly approached the beast in front of him. But just as he was about to grab Zoro’s shoulder, a hand met with Luffy’s wrist and tightened around the small joint.

Zoro groggily opened an eye and looked up at his captain while he yawned and tried to shake the sleep out of himself.

“Zoro?” Luffy asked in surprise as the swordsman stood up and towered over the petite male in front of him.

“I heard you were trying to wake me up,” Zoro said with his deep, raspy, tired voice. Luffy felt a strange shock go through his body just by hearing Zoro talk, it made his heart begin to race. Unbeknownst to Luffy, Zoro was able to feel it. Because of the hand on Luffy’s wrist, Zoro was able to feel that slight rise in his captain’s heartbeat. He had to admit that it made him feel a little proud, he didn’t even know he could have an effect like this over his precious captain. He was going to have some fun with this.

“Why did you want to wake me up, captain?” Zoro asked as he leaned in closer to his captain and smirked down at him. Luffy looked at Zoro with wide, searching eyes and felt his pulse increase just a little more at the way Zoro was addressing him. Luffy was stunned silent, his lips slightly parted when he looked up at the swordsman.

Zoro chuckled and gently popped his thumb into his captain’s mouth and felt his tongue and warm mouth before he pulled away. He was still tired and somewhat annoyed for being woken up, but seeing Luffy like this was too good of an opportunity to pass up. Luffy’s cheeks turned red as he tried to pull away. But he wasn’t really trying, something deep inside of him kept him close to Zoro and kept him interested.

“Why did you want to wake me up?” Zoro asked, this time he didn’t bother to hide that annoyance he had towards Luffy, after all he always prided himself in how long his naps were, being interrupted wasn’t something he liked no matter the circumstances. “Ever since Chopper came in here, I’ve been awake, I’ve just been waiting for you,” Zoro felt Luffy’s heart drum rhythmically under his thumb and he smirked and gently traced the vein that was there. Luffy’s breath became shallow and the captain looked confused with himself and why he was reacting like this towards Zoro. Maybe Zoro wasn’t really that annoyed anymore.

“T-The reason was -- “ Luffy began before he was interrupted by Zoro grabbing Luffy by his shirt and lifting him up so they were eye level. Zoro stared at Luffy and tightened his grip, the bags under his eyes were evident.

“You got something to say, Captain Bastard?” Zoro asked as he pulled Luffy closer to him just to make the poor captain that much more embarrassed. Luffy looked away with red painting his cheeks and he started to squirm to leave Zoro’s hold. Zoro smirked and moved to use his index finger to feel down Luffy’s jaw and down his neck. Zoro drank in Luffy’s soft sounds and devoured the small groan that came when he applied pressure on the sensitive spot on his neck.

“N-no, sorry...” Luffy said before Zoro finally put Luffy down and eyed him. Luffy didn’t understand what Zoro was doing, but he liked it. The tingles that shot down his spine nearly made his heart jump out of his chest.

“Better tell them that you won, captain.” Zoro breathed into Luffy’s ear. Luffy softly gasped and reached forward to grab at Max’s shirt in his surprise. This was the exact reaction Zoro was wanting. He smirked at Luffy and gently nudged him away from him. “Or maybe I’m the one that won, you’re not so tough now, huh?” Zoro teased as the flustered captain quickly moved to make his way out of the crow’s nest. With Zoro’s laugh ringing in his ears, Luffy left the crow’s nest and used his hat to partially cover the deep color on his cheeks.

“Luffy? Are you ok? You’re all red!” Chopper gasped as he reached for his beg and began to rummage through it for some medical supplies. Usopp looked at the captain and then at the swordsman who went back to sleeping.

“So why were you in there so long?” Usopp asked.

Luffy pulled his hat away and plastered on one of his signature smiles. “I won!” he said as he glanced over at the closed door and felt his pulse race again. Luffy wasn’t even sure if he won, after all, his feelings were all jumbled together and he didn’t know how to sort them out anymore because of Zoro.

The raspy voice, the hand on his wrist, the thumb in his mouth, him grabbing his shirt, the fingers on his skin. Him whispering in his ear... Luffy felt his chest tighten and a small sigh escaped his lips. How could he win if he was still so confused? Maybe that was what Zoro was plotting.

“I didn’t win.” Luffy suddenly said.

“We know,” Usopp teased as he pointed to the door. Luffy tensed, did they find out what happened between him and Zoro? “Zoro is still asleep, so I think that he won.” Usopp pointed out. Luffy had to admit that Usopp was right, but his reasoning was completely different for that.

“Yeah, Zoro won.” Luffy agreed with a flustered smile. Unbeknownst to him, the swordsman sported a cocky grin at hearing Luffy’s words through the door. Oh yeah, he was winning.

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