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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 1 month ago

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Words: 3,593 Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: not really specified, but Negan calls you "doll" and "darlin'" often Warnings: language (the usual), some flirty!Negan Era: Alexandria, post-Negan Summary: Negan and the reader must weather the storm and the horde overnight and find someway to get back to Alexandria. A/N: Sorry this came later than I hoped to get it out. This is why I try to 1.) never write two series at once and 2.) never make a posting schedule because I usually can't adhere to it haha some parts just take longer to get right... so thanks for your patience and HAPPY WICKED WEDNESDAY! Previous part - Part 3

The storm overhead was still raging. Tucked away in the basement mostly underground you heard it only as a dull roar. The wind occasionally whistled and howled lending a haunting soundtrack to your sheltering.

Negan had dug out a couple sleeping bags and used one to cushion his seat on another box of supplies, his back leaned up against the wall and his long legs kicked out toward you.

“Can I have that?” you asked, gesturing to the other bag. You were sitting on the floor and the concrete was cold. He tossed it over to you and you folded it and placed it underneath yourself, sitting down in more comfort. You sighed and leaned back against the wall behind you, shutting your eyes for a moment. You could feel Negan looking at you.

“You’re really not going to tell me anything about you?” You cracked one eye open and looked at him, drawing a laugh from deep in his chest. It was resonant and warm, like the sound from a rosewood guitar. “We’ve been doing this for—I don’t know, three months now and I don’t know a damn thing besides your name,” Negan said, twirling the fireplace poker in his hand.

You sighed and sat up again. “What do you want to know?”

“What’d you do before all this?”

“Before the outbreak?”

“Yeah. Before everything went to shit.”

“Uhh… actually, I was a stripper.”

Negan froze, a shit-eating grin growing on his face. “Really?”

“No!” you laughed. “But it seems like you were hoping for something juicy like that,” you said with a self-satisfied smirk. “God, it’s so easy it’s not even fun!”

He laughed heartily. “Alright, smartass… But can you blame me? Shit, I was about to ask for a private performance.”

“I’m sure you were,” you retorted.

“I noticed that you still didn’t answer the question,” Negan said.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you said with a smile. It crinkled the corners of your eyes and Negan found himself suddenly gulping, nervous. He was nervous? “You know, it’s not like I really know a ton about you either.”

“Well, you know about my Savior days. That’s more than I know about you.”

“Is it?” you asked, one of your eyebrows arching.

Negan felt as if a continent shifted inside him when you looked at him like that; inquiring and graceful and steady. “What do you mean?”

You shrugged. “I think—and this is just my opinion, but I think that was a mask,” you said. “It’s almost as if you were playacting. But maybe you convinced yourself that it was the real you or maybe it was in some ways, for a time, and so everyone else around you believed it. It was convincing to watch.”

Negan gulped. He had that same sensation again, as if you were seeing into his core, his true center. “Jesus, doll, maybe fucking warn me before you say some shit like that again.” But there was no trace of jest or sarcasm in his voice and his expression was sincere as he stared back at you. His hazel eyes looked like there was a glow in them that was shifting like the heat moving over the coals of a fire. Was it turmoil? He drew in a deep breath. “Well, what’s the difference, if I was pretending or not? I still did what I did.”

“It matters,” you replied softly. “First of all, because it’s painful to not be seen, to not have your true self perceived, to be invisible in a way. And—when you’ve been hiding in any kind of shadow for a long time, like behind a mask, it’s all the more painful to—to seek out the light, to feel. To be awake. It’s easier to just—pretend.”

Negan’s brow furrowed heavily as you spoke and his hands were still on the iron rod, fingers curled around the chill of the metal. “You’re talking as if you know something about that,” he replied.

You smiled at him vaguely, sighing a little and leaning your head back against the wall again. “Maybe I’m just observant.”

“Alright,” he nodded. His tongue swept out over his bottom lip. “Well, you know about Savior Negan, whether it was a mask or not… and you know that I was a high school gym teacher and coach, and I still know absolutely fuck-all about you,” he said.

“Correct,” you replied.

Negan sighed, looking disappointed. He stared around the room aimlessly for a moment, clicking his tongue thoughtfully and spinning the iron rod in his hand. “What’s your favorite color?” he asked suddenly.

You laughed. “So, you’re switching to small talk now?”

He shrugged. “What the hell else are we gonna do?”

It seemed harmless enough. “Green,” you said.

“Green,” he nodded. “Hmm. Favorite food?”

You shot him an amused look. “Is this even entertaining?”

He only shrugged again and smiled at you expectantly.

“Raspberries,” you said.

“That’s lucky,” he said, scratching at his beard. “You can still get those. In fact, aren’t there a bunch of raspberry plants back home?”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Did you just say back home?” you asked.

“Oh. Shit! Fuck me sideways, doll, I think I did,” he laughed, looking stunned himself. He let out a scoff and shook his head.

“That was… unexpected,” you replied.

“Well, how long do you have to live someplace before you call it home? Even in a cell, I guess time matters.”

“I don’t know. Home has always been a feeling for me, more than a place,” you said.

“Hmm. That seems like it could be telling,” Negan said, absently rubbing a hand over his beard again.

You rolled your eyes. “Now who sounds like a shrink?” you retorted. He laughed a little and shrugged.

“Alright. Green. Raspberries. Got it. Next question…”

“Negan…” you laughed, rubbing a hand over your face, feeling suddenly bashful at his probing and focused interest in you.

“Come on, doll. Just humor me.” He sighed and stretched, thinking. “Favorite season?”

“I can’t choose a favorite. I like different things about all of them.” Then, you paused thoughtfully. “But fuck southern summers.”

Negan smiled widely. “I can agree to that. What was your first car?”

“Pfft… the city bus,” you said. “You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel here on the questions.”

“I’m—working up to the really interesting ones… But really? You never had a car? Not even a rusty shitbox?”

You shook your head. “Nope. In fact, I didn’t even learn to drive until after the outbreak.”

Negan’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes widened. “Fuckin’ hell. That must have been terrifying. Everything shut down and you were just—”

“—stuck,” you finished. You were staring down at your hands and fiddling with a loose string on the hem of your shirt. “Though, most of the roadways were pretty clogged up quickly so it probably didn’t matter all that much. The only people who got out of the cities anyway were the ones who left as soon as there was a whiff of trouble. And then came the riots and the bombings and—”

A shadow darkened Negan’s face. “Fucking hell. You were in a city city when shit went down.”

You suddenly realized what you’d revealed and looked up at him, your breath caught in your throat at the sudden rush of memories unbidden. You gulped at the tightness in your throat and nodded. “Yeah. I was, um—I was in Atlanta.”

“That’s where you found Rick’s group,” Negan said. It wasn’t really a question.

You nodded. “More like they found me,” you said, ducking your eyes again. It wasn’t lost on Negan that you were avoiding his gaze. He sensed that there was still a wound there, unhealed, deep down. Perhaps it was one that would never truly heal. “But it also wasn’t really Rick’s group then. He’d just met all of them too, like the day before. But Daryl, Rick, T-dog, and—and Glenn,” your voice broke when you said Glenn’s name, but it wasn’t just for him that your voice wavered. “They found me. Helped me.” You sighed and closed your eyes for a moment. “Now, it’s just me, Carol, and Daryl left, out of all of us at the beginning.”

There was a soft frown on Negan’s face, creases in his forehead, when you looked back up, but it wasn’t pity. It was just… sympathy and no small amount of guilt. “I’m—sorry,” he said. His deep voice somehow seemed to cut through the air between you and right to the bone. “I know I had a part in that. And I’m truly sorry.” You were startled to see that his eyes were slightly glassy.

“Yeah, well… you don’t owe that apology to me. You owe it to Maggie and her son far more,” you said, shifting on the sleeping bag you were sitting on. A shiver suddenly wracked through you and you hugged your arms around yourself. The fingers of the cold, damp of the cellar seemed to be slowly finding their way in under your clothing. “I thought you were supposed to only be asking me small talk questions? How’d we get here?” you said with a wry laugh.

But Negan wasn’t really listening. He was digging out the jacket he’d shed earlier and tucked into his pack. “Here,” he said. He tossed it over to you.

You caught it, and then fixed your eyes back on him. “Oh. I’m okay,” you tried to argue.

Negan smiled at you, a small one that had his hazel eyes looking bright. “I just saw you shiver. I already think you’re a badass, doll. A little chill isn’t fucking changing that.”

You sighed, and relented. “Alright…” you murmured, pulling on the jacket. It swallowed up your frame, hanging on your shoulders and bunching around your wrists, and Negan couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling that suddenly manifested in between his lungs.

“Thanks,” you murmured, huddling into the fabric.

“Of course. Seems like we’re gonna be here a while,” Negan said. “Actually—” he pulled the top off a bin beside him and grabbed a camping stove and lighter. “We’ve got a stove, water… MREs. You’ve got those tea leaves we foraged on the way in?”

You quirked an eyebrow up at him. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” he said. “It’s about dinnertime by now. Sit back and relax!”

You laughed a little skeptically at him. “You’re gonna… cook me dinner?”

“I don’t think heating up some MREs and tea qualifies as cooking. You should see me in a real kitchen. It’s a real panty-dropped,” he grinned.

You rolled your eyes. “Jesus…”

He laughed heartily and started setting up the stove. “No, no. You can still call me ‘Negan’,” he quipped, winking at you.

“Okay… don’t ever wink at me again,” you retorted, which only made him laugh harder.

“That is a promise that I am not willing to make. Or keep,” he joked. “Now, hand me some of those raspberry leaves you picked.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You stretched lazily, your eyes still closed for a moment, before you shot up straight, remembering where you were and the events of the previous day. Your eyes were wide as you realized that at some point over the course of the night, you’d fallen asleep. Part of you expected to see that Negan had somehow gotten ahold of your gun or knife, despite them always being stored securely on your person. But you didn’t have any need to worry. When you looked across the small, dingy space, he was still perched on the same box of supplies he had been the night before, though his long legs were now stretched out and up on another box.

He was smiling at you serenely, the fireplace poker resting across his knees. “Morning, doll.”

You gulped. “I—I fell asleep.”

“You sure did,” he said. You could tell he hadn’t slept at all. His voice was a bit gruff and undeniably tired. He’d kept watch all night. “You snore by the way.”

You hastily smoothed your hair and clothes, staring back at him. “What? I do not!” you argued.

He laughed. “Yeah, you do. But it’s okay. I found it strangely comforting actually. Nearly put me to sleep.”

“Shut up,” you said, standing up and stretching again.

“Don’t flirt,” he retorted, still smiling serenely.

You paced over toward the one narrow window in the basement and looked up at the quality of light filtering through the dirty glass. It was clearly early morning and the storm had passed. More than that, you couldn’t see or hear any of the dead outside. “Seems like the herd moved on.”

“Mhm,” Negan hummed in agreement. “It all got quiet in the early hours of this morning.”

“You stayed awake all night?”

He nodded, standing now too. “Yeah. Somebody else was slacking off after their gourmet meal,” he teased you.

You ground your teeth together, angry at yourself for falling asleep. “You should have woken me up. And ‘gourmet’ seems like a stretch for an expired MRE don’t you think?”

“With locally sourced tea? Come on, people would have paid a pretty fucking penny for that shit in the old world.”

You laughed a little and shook your head, then turned and fixed your eyes on him with a deeply perplexed expression on your face.

“What? That’s quite a look for first thing in the morning,” Negan said. “I can’t have fucked up that bad already!”

“Why—why didn’t you leave?” you said. “As soon as the herd cleared and the storm settled… you could have disappeared, taken some supplies.” The jacket he’d given to you the night before was still hanging on your smaller frame. The sleeves had slipped down over your hands and you hastily pushed them back up. “You know what you’re going back to.”

He just kept smiling back at you, his expression surprisingly soft and genuine, no trace of his usual jest or masking. It was doing something to you, stirring up a whir of fluttering just below your lungs that was impossible to ignore. You gulped, trying to clear the sensation. He paced toward you, stopping within a foot. “Yeah. Maybe that’s why I stayed,” he said.

Your brow only furrowed even more deeply. “You’re a prisoner,” you said plainly.

Negan shrugged. “Am I? I think I’m starting to fucking forget that…” His hazel eyes were flickering over your face, studying your features. You were the one to fell a sudden wave of emotions cresting up within you and you backed away from it.

“We should—see if the coast is clear,” you said softly, ducking your eyes. “Get back to the car. Everyone back home will be worried. They may even have come looking already.”

Negan smiled to himself. He’d felt something in the air profoundly, but he’d also seen how you’d stepped away and the spell was broken. “Okay,” he said simply.

The two of you gathered up your essential gear and headed up the steps cautiously, listening at the barricaded basement door for any noises on the other side. You pounded on the door with your bandaged hand and pressed your ear to the wood. Nothing. Steady silence.

“Okay,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I don’t hear anything. You can hang onto that poker until we know for sure the house is clear, but then you’ll have to leave it behind. Got it?”

Negan agreed, a little hesitantly, but he wasn’t going to argue with you this time.

You unblocked the door, lifting the wooden board you’d secured it with the night before, being careful to avoid the sharp metal brackets this time. The next moment, you slowly pushed it open.

The house was clear and once you’d thoroughly looked out through windows on all sides of the house, he begrudgingly left the iron fireplace poker behind. Stepping outside, the destruction from the storm and the horde were blatantly evident. Most of the windows in the surrounding buildings, including the house you’d sheltered in, were busted or hailed out. There were large branches blown down off trees and the leaves of many were also shredded in the hailstorm and wind. Shingles and scraps of siding and wood were lying in the scraggly patches of grass.

“Good thing we didn’t try to make it out in the car. I’ll be surprised if the windshield is intact when we get back to it,” you said, nudging a shingle with your boot.

“Yeah,” Negan agreed. “What’s the plan? We still have all those supplies to load up.”

“Um… I guess we can try to get the car in here and load them up. That side road didn’t look too bad on the way in.”

The two of you headed that direction immediately, still on guard and wondering where the herd had gone to. Knowing only hours had passed, it was possible they weren’t far at all. But you arrived at the car safely. However, there was another problem.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you swore, staring at the scene in front of you.

Negan stopped beside you and all he could do was laugh wryly. “Well, shit.”

A huge old cottonwood tree had come down in the storm and the trunk had entirely crushed the car. You sighed and dropped your pack down beside you heaving a huge sigh. “Well… Daryl and Michonne will have noticed by now that we aren’t back. Let’s hope they’re already on their way.” The two of you waited by the car, and luckily it wasn’t long before you saw an approaching vehicle down the old highway. The two of you scrambled into cover, just in case it wasn’t who you were hoping for.

But it was. A truck pulled up and you saw Daryl behind the wheel as it stopped behind your smashed vehicle. Aaron, Rosita, and Daryl piled out and quickly ran to check the car. That’s when the two of you stepped out of cover on the side of the road.

“Hey!” you called out to them. “Can’t tell you how happy I am to see you all,” you said, jogging over. Negan walked over more slowly, his hands stuffed into his pockets. “Hell of a storm,” you said, gesturing at the smashed car.

“Goddamn, ‘m so glad to see ya in one piece,” Daryl said, pulling you quickly into a one-armed hug, his crossbow in the other hand. “We were worried sick, but figured it was the storm. Are ya okay?” he asked, shooting a tense look in Negan’s direction. “What happened to your hand?” he asked, noticing the bandage.

“I’m good. Just cut it while scavenging. It’s fine. How’s Alexandria? Everyone okay after the crazy wind and everything?”

“Yeah, all good. Definitely better than yer car,” he said, looking at the crushed vehicle.

“Thank God you weren’t inside,” Rosita said, slinging her rifle over her back.

“No. Instead we were trapped by a horde in a house,” you explained, crossing your arms.

“A horde?” Aaron repeated. “You’re serious?”

You nodded gravely. “Yeah. I was worried you were going to run into them on the highway to be honest. They moved on overnight.”

Negan was standing nearby, looking out of place. Daryl kept shooting him tense glances.

“We found a pile of supplies though, in a hidden survivalist cellar. I bet we can get a vehicle to the house and load them up, especially with your four-wheel drive vehicle.”

“At least something good came out of your trip then!” Aaron said cheerfully, patting your shoulder. “Glad you’re safe.”

You nodded and you all started back towards their truck. Daryl fell into step beside you. “Hey—” he started in an undertone. “Everything really went okay? Even with him?” he asked.

You nodded and felt your cheeks flushing inexplicably. “Yeah.” You hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should even tell him this… but you did. “I—I didn’t mean to, but I fell asleep overnight. Negan stayed up on watch the whole time, Daryl. He could have—taken my weapons, overpowered me—the herd and storm were clear. He could have left, disappeared. But he didn’t. He stayed,” you explained in a low voice. “I—I don’t understand it.”

“Hmm,” Daryl hummed, his brow furrowed deeply, shadows cast over his blue eyes. He looked up and caught Negan staring in your direction. “’M glad yer safe, especially considerin’ that. But ya gotta be more careful.”

You sighed. “I know. I’m already angry at myself. I just—I don’t understand why he stayed,” you said, hesitating with your hand on the door handle of the truck.

Daryl chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “‘M startin’ to have an idea.”

#negan smith x reader #negan smith fics #negan fanfiction #negan smith imagines #the walking dead #twd drabbles #twd imagines

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tastesousweet · 4 days ago

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⭒ the girl with the tattoo (xiii) - pt 1 pt 2 p3 p4 p5 p6 p7 p8 p9 p10 p11 p12

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : halloweekend finds the pair in a tense party environment, putting their declaration of "just friends" to a test.

warnings : fluffy fun, very angsty at times, smutty at times (forgive me if it’s not up to par i haven’t wrote smut in a sec :/), alcohol and weed use mentioned, barely proof-read

mickey speaks : i have too much fun writing lucas and y/n scenes pls save me also i hope u enjoy and had a good halloween luv u all sm

THIS IS PART THIRTEEN, READ THE OTHERS FIRST PLEASE...

THE house is flooding. people are moving in and out constantly; stepping out for a smoke, or leaning over to let out strings of bile-filled saliva, or just leave the crowded event altogether. those who walk past the leaving groups are likely to step over a few drunk, costume-clad bodies (who have decided the floor looks "hella comfy" at that point in their night), and would be met with an undeniable heat radiating from every wall as the electric beats of the rhythm of the night headlines over every speaker.

by the time you arrive (with remi's hands wrapped tightly around your upper arm as if you were both entering a terrifying, haunted house rather than a boozy costume party) the party is at it's peak. a man in a hyper-realistic werewolf costume stood at the door to ask for your names and shamelessly flirt with the two of you before you were let into the large house.

you look to remi with excitement once you're fully engulfed in the home and your faces are both painted by the slow changing, colored lights. just as your mouth opens to speak, a smooth and familiar voice rings out a groan around you both, "good god!" lucas breaks between you two, hanging each of his large arms over the length of both you and remi's shoulders. "you two are lookin' fine as hell," he looks back and forth, eyeing you both with his toothy grin that glimmers extra with the decorative gem on his canine.

remi lets out a laugh, "thank you lucas," she sees the way he's leaning onto you and drawing circles on your shoulder making her smile, "but i will not be participating in any sister-wive shenanigans- so i'll see you," she slips from his hold and begins to walk backwards and silently mouths "i'll be in the kitchen" to you while motioning her hand as if she was drinking something which makes you laugh to yourself and exchange thumbs up's with each other.

lucas sends a flutter of his fingers to remi and when she turns around to navigate through the crowd, he's looking at you again- with your dolled up face and sheer-red glossed lips that he keeps staring at whenever you're speaking or rubbing them together. he hooks his arm to pull you closer as he leans down to speak into your ear through your hair, "how've you been, baby?"

your face gives away his obvious affect on you. you look down and then back up at him, bringing your hand up to play with his fingers on your hot skin, "i've been good. how about you?"

he brings his head close as he listens to you speak, nodding his head at a few people who assumingly recognize him.

"mmm," he unwraps his arm from you as he moves to lean his back against a wall with various faux spiderwebs and skulls stuck to it; still just as crowded by people on either side of him talking loudly or meeting each other's tongues. "love to hear that, you know 'm always feelin' good," he keeps ahold of your hand and smoothly spins you around to face him. he eyes your tight red corset and the way your ass sits in those tiny pink bloomer shorts and has to ask, "so.. what are you? some kind of fairy?"

his face looks so genuinely curious and attractive under the luxurious lighting that you can't help but smile, "i'm cupid! see?" you turn and lift your leg slightly to show off a small decorative bow and arrow attached by a lacy thigh garter.

"have you shot anyone yet?" he grins and his eyes, while puffy and red, remain focused on you.

it's been a while since you've seen lucas and even longer since you've felt the gentle intimacy from a guy you like, so you lean close and wrap your arms around his neck, lifting yourself up slightly to kiss his cheek, "just one."

lucas dramatically groans and leans his head back against the wall, "fuckin' hell," he bites at his bottom lip. when he finally brings himself to make eye contact with you again you're there, so close to him, with that pretty smile and those charming eyes. he jokingly shakes his head back and forth, "jesus." he starts to look around before calling out, "are there any nurses around here?! shit i'll take a sexy doctor at this point- my heart might just give out right now!"

you let out a cackle and look behind you at the few people who have overheard lucas' call for help before looking back to him and shushing him through his attractive laugh and calls of “help me”. he pulls you close enough for your faces to unintentionally meet to share an intoxicating giggle, before you take hold of his thick overall strap and hold his chin, feeling over his soft facial hair. you surprise him when you deliver a taste of you with a kiss to his lips, your voice gentle, "hey shhh ... i can take care of you."

౨ৎ

"what. the. fuck?!" matt says through a stifled laugh, waving through the smokey air to ensure he is seeing correctly.

chris stands with his hips tilted and cherry red lips pouted, dressed head to toe in a little red-riding-hood costume while he leans on a giggly andrea who's his self-proclaimed slutty big-bad-wolf counterpart. she’s got fluffy grey ears on top of her loosely curled hair and heavy dark eyeliner that brings out the hazel in her eyes. her tiny daisy duke shorts, furry boots, and sharp fake canines pull the rest of her costume together perfectly.

nathan's cackle rings as he comes from behind matt to greet his friends, "holy shit, that's too good, which one of you thought of this?!" he points a finger out from his grip on a slim beer bottle.

chris starts to laugh as andrea playfully replies, "who do you think?"

"just wait until nick sees you in this after you told him you wouldn't do drag with him..." matt tsks, still astonished by the sight of his brother in a tiny skirt.

chris twirls and plays with the ends of his frazzled wig as andrea begins to show them the photos she'd taken while they were getting ready. matt looks over to chris, "i really can't deal with how into this you are."

chris' face deadpans and he jokingly jumps at matt with a fist curled, making matt move backwards and almost knock nathan's drink out of his hand, "yeah, that's what i thought! i'll beat your ass!" he pitches his voice up to a hyper-feminine octave.

andrea lifts her hands up as she laughs, "woah? i thought this was a classy party?!"

matt sputters out his own chuckle at chris who is still playing up some sort of reality tv level fight, "oh my god hold me back!" he wraps andrea's arms around his torso while simultaneously throwing his arms in matt's direction, "hold me back babe, i'm about to kill this bitch!"

almost everyone around them has fallen weak from laughter when nick's exclaim cuts through over the loud music and hysterics, "is that christopher?! my brother?!" nick rushes down the stairs and chris immediately pushes through a crowd to go hug him.

"dude, chris is off one tonight! holy shit, i can't stop laughing," nathan wipes his eyes and rests his hand on matt's shoulder.

asha (who just so happened to get caught in chris' tight hug due to nick's hold on her hand) gives chris a soft pat on the back before ducking from between the two drunk idiots' hold and heading to greet her friends. "andrea! hi pretty lady!" the two squeeze each other tight before she moves to hug nate and matt.

"you all look so good! where's y/n?" she asks with a wide grin, the bright colors of her daphne costume enhancing the bronze of her skin in the low lighting.

"don't know." matt says with a shrug and a glance around the party atmosphere. he wish he knew. honestly, he wishes you were at his side, holding onto him right now.

his night out with elijah a few weeks back was only helpful for that night. sure, he had fun with the attention and heat of the moment sex that came with it- but he was left annoyed the next day when he woke up next to a girl incomparable to you. it was embarrassing and an emotionally drunk mistake; he's given himself enough shit for it, so he doesn't feel any need to ever expose that to you, if he's gifted with your openness again. if.

"she got ready at remi's, so i haven't seen her yet," andrea says before she's distracted by her boyfriend stood on a wooden table across the room, "chris! bájate (get off)! get down from there!" she yells in worry while quickly parting from the group.

"god, he’s wild." asha looks from chris dancing on the raised table to the two boys next to her, "well, i'm gonna go get a drink and hopefully find y/n while i'm gone," she spins to leave and surprisingly matt is right next to her, ready to follow suit.

"i'll come with you," he explains and asha pauses in question, "c'mon, just keep walkin'."

the two approach the vile display of a kitchen with cluttered liquors and mixers, sticky residue atop the counters and plenty of bodies using the space as their personal lounge. matt's got his head turning constantly (in hopes to at least spot you from afar and get the chance to admire), as he stands next to asha who's creating a beverage of sorts, "what're y'making?"

"literally have no clue, just puttin' a little malibu with hawaiian punch i'm sure it'll be fine-" she looks over to him, "what the hell are you doing?" she laughs while putting the cap back onto the tall bottle, "whipping your head around like crazy. do you have opps around here, matthew?"

matt rolls his eyes, "no," he sighs and goes to grab another beer from the fridge (after excusing himself to a couple leant against it). he twists the cap and takes a long sip.

"hey! you done with that yet?" a brash and irritating voice yells into the air, causing matt and asha to look over to see the guy with a poorly made vampire costume and his grimy finger pointed at her, "yeah, you!"

"excuse me?! who the fuck are you talking to?" asha immediately defends while gesturing to the bottle dismissively, "yeah i'm done with it you asshole, take it."

though he stays silent, matt's face displays disgust which makes the man just as mad, "the fuck is wrong with your face, cowboy? can't even defend your girl but you wanna have that dumbass look on your face."

matt laughs, the last thing he expected was to be ridiculed and pestered tonight, "can you chill the fuck out? there was no issue until your greedy ass came in here and started cussin' at girls and callin' me a cowboy when i'm clearly indiana jones."

asha tilts her hand as if to say, clearly? well that's debatable, which makes matt kiss his teeth. she ignores him and flashes a smile, mouthing, "okay, let's go" but the guy can't help but rebuttal and continue to shout profanities while the pair head out of the kitchen. so it's only right that matt turn his head to the guy and yell out, "go find some happiness and peace you drunk fuck, no one wants you here!" before he snickers to himself and gulps down more of his beer, wiping his dripping mouth with his exposed forearm.

matt and asha swiftly move through the crowd while laughing and sipping at their drinks until they find a spot big enough for both of them on the makeshift dancefloor. "hey, that drink better be worth literally fighting for." matt yells over the music and points at the solo cup in her hand.

"eh," she shrugs and begins to sway herself with the hypnotic dance-pop music playing loudly. she connects large dips of her hips with movement in her arms and lipsyncing that helps to loosen matt up enough to find some enjoyment in the small buzz of alcohol and pounding musical vibrations. though his playful mood dies when asha almost chokes on her drink (out of excitement) as she taps at matt's shoulder a few quick times. "oh my god! i found y/n! and ... is that ... lucas?" she squints her eyes.

matt doesn't mean to but his entire body reverses to get a view. only it's worse than he could ever imagine in his own creative mind. it's the harsh breaths you're taking and the way your bodies move as one and how he's hugging onto you under these turquoise and orange lights, it feels like matt has just been kicked down onto his knees and beaten over the head bloody. the heat of the people around him who keep bumping into him as he stands and watches you perform, is dizzying. there's constant movement in both time and the crowd, yet matt feels stuck. but that's strictly internal, matt's external remains dangerously calm. calm enough that asha doesn't notice any change, not even the roughness in his throat when he replies to her comment of "i didn't even know they were a thing" with a hushed, "me neither..."

౨ৎ

"wow you look fucking terrible, matt" nick stares with wide eyes, "asha, babe, how did you leave my brother alone for like thirty minutes and he's got the face of death the next time we see him?!" he laughs at his brother slumped in a lonesome outdoor chair.

"s’not on me! i promise he was fine when i left him!" she drunkenly expresses.

matt leans his head to the side, "yeah, make fun of me all you want. i'm not the idiot in a fuckin' blonde wig."

nick dramatically caresses his short, slightly off-centered, wig, "not too much! i am fred fucking jones!” making asha giggle uncontrollably as he adds, “where is the respect for icons around here?!”

matt's finding it difficult to enjoy any part of his night now that he has the sight of lucas practically fucking you in his friend's living room imprinted in his skull. he wishes you could have seen him there, watching. he hopes that your stomach would've dropped and you'd ask him to forgive you as he walked away. he hopes that maybe lucas was bothering you and matt just missed the part where you slapped him and told him to leave you alone. that wasn't his fucking sunny. sunny has more respect for herself. he knows sunshine when he sees it; and sunshine is better than matt. from what he saw, tonight you're just like him. how could you? do you truly see matt as a fucking friend? has all of his bickering about not getting with his friends fallen on deaf ears? or do you just not care enough?

౨ৎ

"so you're the only minion? what are your friends dressed as then?" you ask in reference to his costume as lucas feeds you a potato chip from the large bowl he stole from a dining table.

he has a smile as he looks up at you, sat on top of his lap, "yeah, you could say i went rogue, i guess. i got fired for bein' high on the job." you laugh and he brings another chips to your mouth, "all my boys are dressed like m&ms or batman and shit." lucas is caught by surprise when he sees matt approach the couch. "matt! what's up, man. i haven't seen you in a minute, here sit down." he moves the bowl from the cushion next to him, tapping the seat to invite him closer.

you quietly take a sip from the cold mixed drink in your hand and play with the lacy ruffles on your tiny shorts. you wonder if he’ll actually sit down, just to fuck with you. you truly never know what to expect from matt, you two haven't even been alone together since he'd given you an impromptu tattoo on your back. you know he’s likely come over to degrade you over enjoying any time without him. you don’t think he should be bothered with what you do with anyone else at this point.

he speaks up with a shake of his head and downturned lips, "nah i'm cool. y/n, can i talk to you?" his voice has a deep rasp that forces his east coast roots to sprinkle into his dialect.

"hm?" you finally look over to him. while your eyelids sparkle with loose glitter, his eyelids are heavy and his eyebrows, a confusing kind of angry. his lips are upset with you and his jaw is achingly pissed. your lips are still so soft and plump; matt would hate to think they've been kissed by the man underneath you.

"can we go talk?"

"what's going on? is it about one of our friends?" you're playing clueless in hopes that he'll let you finish enjoying your time not thinking about him tonight. for one fucking night.

he repeats your words in a breathy mock, "what's going on? y/n, please don't do this bullshit with me right now."

"alright no need for all that," lucas breathes out, his eyebrows pinched together.

a smile plays on matt’s face at the audacity of him to speak up as the literal other man here, "lucas, shut the fuck up. this has nothing to do with you, i'm just tryna' talk to my friend right now before i leave this dumbass party."

"wh-?!" lucas' voice gains it's own, contrasting, roughness.

“matt?!” you scold and immediately stand up, turning to lucas with an exhaustive sigh, "just give me a sec, okay?" you squeeze his hand before turning to matt, "come on."

౨ৎ

"this is fucking ridiculous,” he huffs.

"matt, slow down. please," you try to keep up with him physically through the crowd, and emotionally through his words.

he's mostly talking to himself with the way he speaks under his breath, "what the fuck were you thinkin'?"

"i can't hear, what are you saying?" you genuinely ask and try to move closer from behind him, only you accidentally move too harsh and swift, tripping yourself in the process.

he's quick to grab hold of your torso and lift you upright, "be careful, y/n."

"yeah, m’trying, matt." you readjust yourself upright and he takes his warm hands away from your body, reluctantly grabbing your hand instead to pull you the rest of the way through.

౨ৎ

you can finally see him. now that you’re both stood in the first bedroom matt could find upstairs, you're finally able to see him under the controlled, yellowed light of the private room.

you're in the middle of the unfamiliar room, watching him with his back towards you as he shuts the door. he lets out a deep breath as he looks over to you. it's too bad he can't cherish you when you're so damn cute in your tight costume and angel wings.

you curiously admire his appearance as well; he's clad in brown textured pants with a belt and rope connected while his toned chest and arms display his collection of tattoos under the brown vest. his face is attractively looking to you with fake bruises on his cheekbones and corner of his lip. the hat and satchel he wears would normally make you smile and giggle out of appreciation for his commitment to the character, but he's looking at you with such trouble you're feeling the drunken buzz you once had begin to fade.

"hey," your voice is small.

"y/n, what the fuck is going on?" his voice is immediately bitter.

you breathe out a laugh through your nose dismissively, "wow, okay. i'm not doing this right now..." you start to walk around him and towards the door.

"what? don't leave?!" he follows you and you stop.

you look over your shoulder at him, "matt, i'm not letting you yell at me and make me feel bad for enjoying my night out."

"no, i-" he sighs through his nose and comes close as he lowers his voice, "i'm trying to look after you," he gently wraps his arms over your shoulders, connecting his hand with his wrist.

"you're not... you're actually just being selfish, matt." you stand your ground.

"lucas isn't good for you, y/n, i've told you this," he reminds you with his face buried into the space where your shoulder and neck meet.

you groan, "i don't think you understand how fucking frustrating you sound!" you remove his arms and turn yourself around to look into his eyes, because maybe it will help him (and yourself) believe your words, "you wanna talk matt? let's talk. how about this: you and i were never and will never be together."

matt's tongue runs over his teeth and his stomach slightly aches the thought but he takes it on the chin, playing up his cocky personality you unfortunately have grown to favor. he smiles in your face, "i bet that felt good, huh?"

"better than you'd think." you think he can't tell but your eyes are the slightest bit glossier as you speak.

"mm," he nods his head, "right … so now what? you found another sleazed-out pothead to give you dick every now and then? you replacin' me?" he condescendingly laughs at you.

"'m not fucking him, matt. you're being childish." your eyes pinch in animosity.

matt notices your hand remaining on the doorknob, "you're not gonna leave yet though? we still need to talk.."

"about what?" you cross your arms.

matt shrugs with pouted lips, "i mean, i don't know. whatever friends talk about. i haven't seen your pretty ass all night- don't want my impact to be us fussin' at each other."

"you've made a big enough impact already don't you worry." you sarcastically roll your eyes and move to go stretch out on the soft bed, “but fine we can talk, as long as you go get a few drinks for us to share.”

౨ৎ

"you can’t be serious!" he exclaims with a laugh.

"no! m' dead serious-” you adjust yourself to sit up tall on your knees, the bed dipping below you and your strawberry wine cooler in hand, “and you know me, i’m just stood there trying to fight off actual tears while this woman nitpicks my entire cake design in front of a crowd of customers, matt.” you widen your hands to exaggerate your drunken spiel, “a crowd!”

matt continues to laugh at you through his mouthful of slightly bitter beer, he swallows before tugging your arm so that you’re sat once more, “c’mere.”

after you asked that he bring drinks up to you if he expected you to stay and talk with him, matt almost immediately went to the kitchen. he left you to sit alone in the space with your thoughts, which only made you crave a drink strong enough to make you stop thinking of all the bad. you wondered what lucas was doing but that began to make you fell terrible; you sent him a text apologizing for matt’s behavior and telling him you were going home for the night but you’d enjoyed your time with him. he was kind and cool about it which you appreciated.

you accidentally topple into his chest him when you’re pulled down, but matt easily adjusts himself to hold you as if it was a perfect accident. you blink slowly as you look at him and his teeth that show only slightly with his smile.

he can’t help but move his free hand further along your body, he hasn’t held you like this in what feels like forever. “i missed you,” he admits and palms your thigh soothingly.

you just stare at him. you want to believe him so badly but even your intoxicated brain can replay andrea’s words from two nights ago through your head: “and chris told me that … matt’s been sleeping around with a few different girls over the past month and a half …”

it pains you to remember the initial shock you felt, so you take your final sip of your drink and move from his lap, taking his drink he was currently sipping from him and placing both cans on a small table in the room.

“what is it?” matt questions with his costume-clad body stretched over the length of the bed and his head propped up by his hand when you come back over to the bed.

“i know you don’t miss me, matt,” you try to sound as put together as possible, sitting yourself cross-legged and in front of him. you take off his hat to let his hair fall out and into its place, kissing at his temples.

you place the hat behind you as matt leans closer to you, placing a hand on your knee, “you don’t know anything if you think i’m lyin’…” he looks up into your droopy yet seductive eyes.

you smirk at his confidence before you lie down parallel to him, “be honest, i can handle it.” you pry. you wonder if he’d actually tell you, especially when he so obviously wants to get in your pants.

“you want honesty? hmmm…” he reaches for your hand, playing with your smooth and manicured nails, “honestly… i was pissed when i saw you with lucas earlier, i don’t think you should give him your time.” his expression is a bit serious like he truly had kept those words in his drunken mind all night. you don’t give any change in your face, tired of reiterating that you don’t care what matt has to say about your love life anymore. “and well, honestly…” he licks over his bottom lip, “you look cute as fuck as cupid tonight.”

you reluctantly smile, “wow all of that and your nose never grew.”

“i’m an honest man. your turn,” you continues to play with your hand.

“honestly… i think the indiana jones look is doing you favors.” you giggle when he displays a look of shock by your compliment, “don’t act so surprised! ‘m more shocked we haven’t kissed each other yet.” you comment.

matt blinks a few times finding the space between you two has become warmer, “pretty sure kissing is considered a friendly interaction in france,” he pulls you closer before leaning over to hold your face in his palm.

“you made that up,” you giggle and look from his intoxicating blue eyes to his pink lips.

his own laugh slips through his smooth delivery, “yeah i did but-”

you tangle your fingers through his deep brown hair as you pull his face to connect with yours, suddenly too overwhelmed with desire to let matt finish his sentence.

he lets the control stay in your hands, with his weight on top of yours and his tongue only peeking out once your lips wrap around it.

it’s hot and spit heavy collision, with both of you endlessly sucking and holding the other’s lips captive. you’re so clouded that you can’t be bothered to complain that your decorative wings are uncomfortable and poking into you.

matt’s hands reach into the bloomers you wear and pull them down slightly to grip the skin of your full hips and feel the fabric of your tiny pair of underwear. your hands continue to scratch at his scalp and hold his cheeks (at times moving to hold his neck and give tiny pulsing squeezes).

your mind is one tracked and eventually you’re fed up with waiting for matt to push past your underwear and give you what you need. you take it upon yourself to move your hand from his chiseled cheek to the space between you two, trailing down and into your shorts.

matt initially thinks you’ve gone to move into his pants but is pleasantly surprised to pull back and see you using your fingers on yourself. he hums against your ear, “mmm you’re so fucking sexy when you’re touching yourself, sun’.”

you mewl out a soft moan at his words as he lays wet kisses from your ear to your neck, where he licks and nips lightly. you move your fingers from your clit to dip into you, whining out towards the ceiling as you work them.

matt purposely places his crotch against your spread thigh to give you insight into his cravings. what he doesn’t expect is you to tell him, “fuck yourself matt- do it against my thigh,” through several breathy moans. he moves to kiss your lips and flick his tongue against your own again. when he pulls away you whisper, “please? i wanna watch you, matt.”

he punches his eyes closed and you bring your hand from your shorts up to his mouth, smearing your index and middle fingers across his lips until he opens his mouth and sucks your fingers thoroughly, attempting to give out a moan with his mouth full.

his teeth slightly graze your fingers as you pull them from him, your soft voice meeting his ears while his eyes stare admirably, “you got me all wet,” you show your damp fingers before you move them back to play with your sensitive clit.

matt’s head tilts downwards to watch you move your hand beyond the fabric, taking it upon himself to pull your pink bloomers off of you.

he watches your fingers working eagerly under your lace underwear as he unbuckles his belt as quickly as he can. he glances up at your face, with your mouth hung in an open “o” shape and your hair slightly disheveled, and can’t help but pause his undressing to kiss your cheeks harshly, making his way to your mouth for needy and rushed kisses. you remove your hand from your pleasure to finish unzipping matt’s pants and messily pushing his boxers down far enough to free his dick.

matt lets out a relieved groan at the feeling, removing his lips from you to spit on his hand and immediately wrap it around himself to release the tense pressure. matt holds onto you as he moves himself against the fullest part of your inner thigh, so close to your heat that his stomach recoils just thinking about being inside you.

his moans are just as whiney as yours when you begin to hurriedly hump into your own hand. matt’s face is smushed into the side of your face with heavy breaths and body heat adding to the tumultuous pressure in your core. “matt,” you breathe against him, “i can’t hold-”

he brings his hand to your neck, shushing you, “yeah? s’okay…”

you allow his encouragement and strained voice to aid you as you finish with shaking legs and a string of sharp moans into matt’s ear. you attempt to close your legs but matt forces them to remain wide as he adjusts his dick to lie against your soaked panties before rutting his hips pathetically against the covered area.

you whimper at the feeling and your legs jerk softly whenever his head bumps at your tired clit. you wrap your arms around matt’s neck to keep his body close to yours whispering in his ear how sensitive you are and that he needs to be gentle with you to make him moan into your mouth and promise he’ll try.

your tongue plays in his mouth as matt reaches his peak, groaning (embarrassingly loud for someone who did nothing more than jerk himself against you) and continuing his strokes as he cums on your covered cunt.

he removes himself from on top of you after a few breaths, immediately taking off your filthy underwear and exchanging them for your tiny bloomer shorts for you.

you allow him to care for you as you stare at the ceiling, your body’s sweat becoming apparent as you begin to mentally process the fact that you just participated in the one action you promised yourself (and andrea) you would not commit again. you feel weak and embarrassed where you’d normally feel bubbly and excited to get to spend time with matt after having sex.

you want to cry but you also want to yell. you want to tell matt that you wished he cared about you. you wish he would have called you again instead of taking random girls to bed. you wish he would look up from his fucking phone right now and see you pouting and saddened by what’s happened to the two of you.

you get up from your spot on the bed and walk across the room to grab one of the small pink whitney shooters lying on the dresser. as you twist the cap off you wish you were at home, with your kitten and your warm bed. matt watches you throw the shot back, coating your tongue with a sting and leaving your throat warm.

he slowly makes his way to you as you go to open the second shooter. he wraps his arms around your waist, “do you believe i missed you now?” he leans down to ask into the air next to your face.

you breathe out before taking the second shot silently, pinching your face at the awful taste.

“sunny?”

silence.

you finally turn to look at him, your eyes carry such misery that matt’s face changes from one of contentment to one of complete worry. “what’s going on?”

your mouth is downturned and your brain is foggy, “this is ruining me, matt. you’re not good for me.”

matt’s completely offended, “i’m sorry? did i just spend the last hour and a half with someone else?! what are you talking about?”

you look down at the red wood of the dresser you lean on for balance, “this all was a mistake, i can’t believe i let this happen again …”

matt can’t help but let out a laugh in disbelief, “what the fuck is happening?!” he’s concerned at this point.

“i can’t- like, explain. i’m just-” you’re the worst type of drunk at this point; you’re being a confrontational drunk yet you're too fucked up to make any sense out of what you’re trying to say.

matt rubs his head and grabs the final seltzer from next to you, “y/n,” you can hear the snap of the tab as he opens it, “should i take you to ‘drea?”

you crouch slightly and bury your head in your crossed arms, no longer fighting any tears that escape.

“baby, why are you cryin’? come here, hug me.” he taps your sides to get you to stand and let him hold onto you.

you reluctantly wrap your arms around his middle and allow him to caress your head. “i just don’t think we should do this,” you get out through a small sob.

“hey, i’m gonna get you home and then we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

after a few moments and calmed breaths you just shake your head and remove yourself from him, letting his arms trail off of you as you walk away and grab your shoes off of the floor.

you stumble over to the bed to put the small kitten heels back on. matt watches you with his eyes and puts the slim can down before he moves close to you and squats down to be level with your feet, “are you sure you wanna put these back on?”

“i don’t need your help,” you mumble and push his hands away from your shoe.

“sunny.”

“matt, you can go!” you finally let out your frustration through yelling.

“sshhh, stop fighting me, y/n!”

you throw the shoe against the floor harder than you intend, “no! don’t tell me what to do. don’t try to treat me all fucking special i know those other girls might get jealous.”

“here we fucking go,” he sighs, “there’s literally no one else, y/n! i haven’t even talked to other chicks tonight, you’re the one who was all over someone else and i’m over that shit! we’re cool and we’re friends so there’s no fucking reason for you to be mad.”

your mouth is flat and your eyes squinted as you look down at him, “i’m talking about the ones you’ve been seeing over the past few months!”

“why’re you sayin’ shit that’s not even true?!” he’s stands upright, “i can’t deal with this shit.”

“i know it’s true!” your lips pout as you fight off crying again.

“no you don’t, because it’s not!” he walks away and begins to slip on his own boots.

“yes i do! chris told me you fucking idiot!” you point at him, letting tears pour once more. your face is crumpled and your eyes welled with salt.

matt shakes his head silently as he finishes lacing up his boots.

you wipe your eyes and slide your second shoe back on before frustratingly removing the bracelet he’d bought you only a little over a month ago for your birthday. you stand up and grab your broken lopsided angel wings from the bed, walking back over to him.

“you done?” he asks roughly.

“yeah. stay out of my life,” you coldly push the bracelet into his chest and move towards the door.

“don’t worry about it, sweetheart. don’t think we’ll need to be friends anymore!” he yells as the door slams. he looks down at the bracelet and runs his thumb over the inscribed frank ocean lyrics, then glances around at the poor shape of cameron’s guest bedroom.

“fuck!” he shouts into the air above him.

* bonus a/n: i know a party + hookup + fight sesh hates to see them coming😭😭😭. no but in all seriousness i can see the toxicity here, pls this is not normal and i know that! BUT their feelings are very complex towards each other and the idea of being loved which causes shit like this to happen to them. by the end of this story they will not be this toxic i promise growth to come lol!!!!

taglist -★

@deadxrx @saintsturn @honestlybabymiracle @starrysturniolo @st7rnioioss @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @sturnioloa @tcvazq @novasturniolo03 @wovenribbons @watercolorskyy @imsosillygoofylol @wh0resstuff @peachmels @h3arts4harry @imaslutforwhitemen @lovingregulusblack @sturnsintrouble @udonknowmeh12 @mattandchrismakemewett @sturnsorbit @mommykinks4matt @bluebayousblog @jetaimevous @eyelovedher89 @grimholic @graysturns @cartiiwannagotoplutoo @sturniolosreads @almondamaretto @kentahoe @blissfulbellss @streamermattsgf @mattandchrismakemewett @starringthesturniolos @moonykai @envyjust @sirenedeslily

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mysteryshoptls · 1 year ago

Text

SSR Ortho Shroud - Playful Gear Voice Lines

When Summoned: The stage curtains are rising! I'll draw everyone's attention with movements that no human nor puppet can do!

Summon Line: Can't believe I get to go to an amusement park with all my friends from school... Fufu, I can't wait. You better enjoy yourself too!

Groooovy!!: Everyone, eyes on me! I'll give you a show you'll never forget.

Home: Let's cut loose!

Swap Looks: Equipping mask.

Home Idle 1: Fellow-san and Gidel-san seem to have a brotherly relationship. I'm reminded of how I'd always follow after my big brother!

Home Idle 2: So, we're skipping school to go to an amusement park. If Deuce-san were here, he'd probably be in a tizzy about how this isn't what honor students do.

Home Idle 3: Confirming 【Playful Gear】 waterproof functions. ...Yep, looks like I'll definitely be able to enjoy the water rides, too!

Home Idle - Login: Retrofitting complete. Commencing amusement park activities with the 【Playful Gear】 attachment.

Home Idle - Groovy: I wish I could go to a theme park with my family. I'd get us all to wear the character headbands and take a picture!

Home Tap 1: The haunted house was so much fun. I really enjoyed seeing how your expressions and heart rate kept fluctuating.

Home Tap 2: At the stand over there, they're selling picture books that tells the story of the wooden doll. If you don't know much about it, maybe we can read it together?

Home Tap 3: With how he was throwing his hands up in the air and screaming at the top of his lungs as the roller coaster descended... Lilia-san's enjoying himself just like a kid!

Home Tap 4: There's so much I want to do at the amusement park. I need to make a plan so I can do everything...!

Home Tap 5: Is there any place you want to go to? Leave it to me. I've made sure to install a map of the amusement park already.

Home Tap - Groovy: I always believed that it was inefficient to wait in lines, but… Time just flies by when I'm waiting with you!

Duo: [ORTHO]: There's a multi-player option, Leona-san! [LEONA]: Don't get too carried away, Ortho.

Requested by Anonymous.

#twisted wonderland #twst #ortho shroud #leona kingscholar #twst ortho #twst leona #twst translation #twst playful land #mention: deuce #mention: lilia #italics: ortho robot voice

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omkookie · 1 year ago

Text

Blank Canvas.

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere Malleus, Broken F!MC, mentions past abuse and character death. 15+

Is it a fleeting dream or a nightmare? You hold the one dearest to you but her face is blank, blank like the dark night sky with no stars in it. An empty canvas with no expression, but potential for you to create one expression? Or as many as you please?

Can you draw on your canvas? turn it into whatever you want, and be pleased with the final result?

He feels like there is nobody like you.

You are his one and only one.

Even if your expression is blank, your face no longer showing emotion after being broken down so many times. Could he dye you back to normal?

You were his pretty little thing, a sweet woman who unfortunately refused to be by his side and used all means necessary to avoid him. You were his property, his doll. His little dress-up thing which he happily came to torture night after night, To the point where you were broken down and desensitized to anything he did. Getting far too used to him and his cruelty, your face remained blank and unfazed whenever he did something. Sure, you’d shed a few tears and cry here and there, but aside from that you were like a soulless being, a body moving around with no purpose in life, and without a drop of ambition.

He sighs, frustration getting to his head as he observes your blank face at the dining table.

It’s been a month, and yet he hasn’t made any progress in turning you back to normal. You used to be so lively and cute, trembling and afraid of him to the point where you’d burst intotears whenever he did as little as touch you.

Why can’t you just go back to being the way you were? What was this nightmare that you were making him live in? Your current state was both a dream, and a haunting nightmare. Your eyes were cold, slowly boring into his as you stared at him.

He started hating it.

A fleeting dream would be one where you finally submit to him the way that you did now, But a nightmare was your current state. Your blank stare, unfazed demeanour, lifelessness. You no longer had a spark to you, and he was getting mad.

Why didn’t you just go back to how you used to be? You were so fun back then.

Even if you always tried to run away from him and you made him angry. You were way better back then, than you were right now.

He glares at you, his eyes reflecting his fury as you remain quiet, not uttering a single word to him.

The atmosphere was heavy, your doll-like painted face looking glum as you reached for one of the peaches on the table.

He drank his wine, making the flame of the candle dim and flicker as he abruptly set his glass down.

He got up, refusing to look at you for even another moment as he made his way out of the dining room and walked back to his chambers.

He’ll find a way to turn you back to normal sooner or later… All he needed to do right now was be patient. Patience is key, a key which he very much needed so that he wouldn’t rip your throat out. You annoyed him far too much, and seeing you first thing in the morning started turning into an unpleasant sight..

As much as he loves you, You are getting boring.

And he doesn’t like boring things. If he can’t paint you back to how you originally were and return the spark back to your lifeless eyes, then he’d have to get rid of you.

As he walks through the hallways, passing maids and servants he considers that.

What if he got rid of you? Could he get rid of you? His heart feels heavy and about to shatter just by thinking of it.

He couldn’t simply throw you away… you meant so much to him.

His twisted head and his lost heart argued, one trying to reason that you had become useless, a broken, lifeless ragdoll. Meanwhile the other tried to remind him of just how much he loves you, what he’d done for you, where he took you.

All of his twisted feelings were being doubted and questioned.

On one hand, if it weren’t for his cruel treatment towards your fragile little female mind and body, You would be normal. On the other, It’s your fault for being so weak and boring him.

You shouldn’t have changed.

This whole situation was your fault, and your fault only.

You seduced him, Tempted him into falling in love with you by wearing those skimpy little skirts that showed your legs, and revealed too much of your body.

You were at fault.

He was innocent.

He simply fell victim to your provocations, and because of you he was miserable right now.

He clenched his fists, his resentment towards you only growing as he picked up the old school-photo of you from NRC.

Back in Night Raven College you were nice, you were fun.

Now, You’re neither of those.

In a fit of anger, he throws your framed picture at the wall, shattering its glass frame into pieces.

He should get rid of you.

It’s the only thing that would make him happy.

Yes.

He can’t paint a blank canvas if the canvas had tears.

His only option was to throw it away, and throw it away he chooses to do.

You still sit in the dining room when he returns, and you only look back at him because you heard him slam the doors.

Your eyes don’t look afraid at his raged state, in fact you almost look pleased with yourself.

He grabs your arm in his tight hold, dragging you toward one of the castle’s highest towers as he contemplates just what to do with you.

He could slit your throat open, throw you off the tower and watch you plunge to your death, or he could burn you in his green flames.

All options appeal to him, as in his crazed state he digs his fingers into your skin, His nails sharp like claws drawing blood from you. His hold on you is relentless as he drags you up the stairs, like a broken toy about to be abandoned in the attic.

When he flings the doors open, your body flinches.

The air in the tower was freezing cold, making you shudder as it chilled you to the bone. For a moment he stops, It’s as if he realizes that you are indeed not a lifeless doll and can still feel things. His mind wavers, and he considers bringing you back down because there was still hope for you to return to normal.

His stubbornness however, quickly pushes that train of thought to the side. He tried everything he could to bring you back to normal. He beat you, burned you, strangled you, and let you be free… Nothing worked.

He pushes you into the dark cold room roughly, making you fall and scrape your knees against the floor's hard stone.

He can’t find it in himself to kill you despite his earlier resolve, so he’ll leave you.

And leave you he does.

He shuts the heavy doors behind him and locks them, leaving you alone in the cold room of the highest tower in the castle to die.

Malleus has no regrets in finally getting rid of you…

Until his crazed mind comes back to his senses and he returns, finding you dead a mere day later.

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere #yandere fanfiction #yandere x reader #malleus draconia #malleus twst #twst malleus #yandere malleus draconia #yandere twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #cw;yandere❤️

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inquisitornocturn · 5 months ago

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⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙. 𝟞 - 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘:Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, jealousy, arguing, asphyxiation, bondage, breast play, dubcon, underwear as a gag, smut, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, teasing, PiV, praise kink, vampire bites, caught while fucking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 6,407

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: and we're getting close to the end! what a ride so far! i loved writing this chapter because writing jealousy and envy is always a lot of fun for me, but i digress! enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Upon your return you didn’t have a chance to send Astarion a message of any kind because the day after you came back the Duke himself demanded you accompany him to a celebratory ball. It appears one of his generals performed well in battle while you were away and begrudgingly you agreed. It would not do you well to scorn the ruler of Baldur’s Gate.

But as you are preparing for the ball, finding your finest dress and making sure that it’s clean and ironed, you wonder if you really have no time to send a message or if you simply don’t want to.

The answer comes simple – you don’t want to.

Not because you regret what happened in this very house two weeks ago before you left on a assassination mission to kill Princess, as you code-named her for secrecy, but because the thought of him turning you into one of his spawn haunts you.

He didn’t tell you that he abandoned the idea. No, he said nothing about that at all. And that’s something you cannot ignore.

While you dress and doll yourself up, you keep thinking about it, about the idea of being his like this and you realize that you really don’t want to be his thrall. That you don’t want to be his to command whenever he wishes. It’s already hard to assert yourself without that and how he cast Dominate on you proved exactly that without a shadow of doubt. It hangs heavily over you like a dark cloud, threatening to erupt in rain at any moment.

You know that before you see him next – you need to think, a lot. You need to figure out a way to give yourself what you want without giving Astarion what you are sure he will ultimately seek: your eternity.

When you finish preparing by hiding some smaller daggers on your person, you hear a carriage and a sound of horse hooves coming closer. You suspected that the Duke will send someone to pick you up to ensure that you show up. You find the man extremely predictable if not slightly paranoid. You don’t have an issue with that, you rub elbows with paranoid men every day.

The trip to the city center doesn’t take too long but you use that time to keep pondering upon the conflict in your mind and heart. Yes, you have to really and truly admit to yourself – you like Astarion. And it stretches beyond just carnal desire or the thrill of danger. You don’t even know why, you can’t answer this, what it is that exactly draws you to him like a moth to the flame, you just hope that the flame won’t consume you. And as you watch houses and people pass by the carriage window you feel a knot of dread in your stomach – you’re playing a very dangerous game with a man that holds unforeseen power in his hands.

Is risking your life really worth it? For something that could be just a fleeting fancy for either of you? And yet you realize that it’s too late for this already. While the carriage navigates the streets and begins slowing as it approaches a massive mansion in the middle of the city, you understand with a sinking feeling that you should’ve been honest with yourself and had this ‘conversation’ with your inner self before Astarion showed up at your house. But you didn’t know then that you will agree to… what exactly did you agree to? Another tryst? No, it didn’t feel like this sort of transient proposal from him. Not a relationship either, surely, too early for that, all you two did so far was fuck and shout at each other, a proper pissing contest between two very prideful people. Then what? You have no answer to that and have no time to think about this further as the carriage stops at last and the door opens, revealing the Duke in his best ensemble, offering a hand to you with a smile.

“Good evening.” he greets you before you take his hand and your skirts as you climb out of the carriage.

“Good evening to you too, Duke Sanolin.” you smile, easily slipping into your role of a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered noble woman. You don’t hate the role, but your words feel empty and shallow even when you greet the Duke.

“I take the road here was pleasant? City planners made sure to increase quality of the roads leading out of the city. Merchants have easier and swifter time traveling this way.” Duke starts boasting and you nearly recoil when you notice him offering you his elbow, but you just squeeze out a smile on your face and hook your arm exactly how he wishes.

You don’t reply because he doesn’t need you to speak. You are here to stay close to him as he mingles with patriars. You are here to look pretty while you discretely protect his life. You are here to smile and to nod and to be vigilant. Oh how you loathe these jobs.

However, when Duke Sanolin leads you inside and servants greet you both, offering wine and small snacks on silver platters, you scan the guests and see nobody you should keep an eye out on. There are some dangerous nobles among the masses of them in Baldur’s Gate. Some of them have relations with other Guilds, some are simply unhinged and unpredictable, some have grievances and revenge on their minds, but tonight you see no familiar faces, faces that you have memorized for safety. This makes your shoulders relax. Sure, someone undesirable might come yet, rich people are rarely punctual, but for now you feel more at ease than you expected yourself to be tonight.

And Duke is not some secretive heir like Lord Goldbrith or a boasting sex addict like Lord Witdale. No, Sanolin is a very educated man and a very social one to boot, so the moment you two enter the main ballroom, he quickly becomes surrounded by ladies and lords alike. Everyone wants to be on his good side and you too get acknowledged as someone who is accompanying him tonight, asking where his wife is. When Duke explains that his wife isn’t feeling well thus he decided to bring his ‘niece’ with him, most seem to stop questioning your presence, although you do notice a suspicious glance or two from those who don’t believe Duke’s innocent lie because they don’t know who you truly are, which is not that many of them, you suddenly realize. This party seems to have been assembled from people who rub elbows with the ruler of the city very closely, including yourself, and that makes your job easier – protecting someone of this importance is near effortless when he’s surrounded by his allies instead of enemies.

And then something dawns on you – could Astarion be here? You immediately begin to look around watching for signs of him, but so far you see nothing, yet it still doesn’t alleviate the panic beginning to claw at your chest and throat. You don’t like feeling paranoid but this is exactly the feeling that now overwhelms your mind, making your hands shake slightly as you hold the glass of wine and take small sips from it while keeping your eyes on the crowd as Duke Sanolin is talking to his political allies with you at his side.

You don’t fear Astarion, not really, you’re too proud for that, but what do you fear is a scene that he could cause if seeing you back instead of getting a message from you informing him about your return could lead him to anger. And you already know that Astarion’s anger can get pretty explosive with no regards to anyone around him unless forced to stop and think better.

For an hour or so you feel rising panic trying to replace all other senses in your mind and body, but thankfully Sanolin doesn’t notice anything, chatting away about things that dull your mind: trades, fashions and council meetings. Nothing useful for you to pay attention to. And when you finally feel like you can relax, that Astarion might not show up, you freeze, paralyzed with near animalistic fear when you notice him entering with a loud laugh, teasing the servant and making the young man blush.

Shit.

You turn your back to him and try to blend in with the nobles chatting up the Duke, trying to hide behind his own body and you empty your glass of wine in one gulp to calm your nerves. What is wrong with you? You faced enemies and threats bigger than Astarion’s possible anger for not receiving a simple note from you, but you immediately understand why – because you want to be with him and you feel like you betrayed whatever fragile start you two agreed upon those two weeks ago.

“Good evening, my dear.” you hear Astarion’s all too familiar voice croon behind you and your fingers clench the glass so firmly that you have to remind yourself to relax before it shatters in your hand.

You slowly turn to him, not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, and his crimson eyes immediately locks onto yours. Duke and his allies fall silent at the greeting and turn to Astarion as well, making minstrels that the host hired for tonight seem unreasonably loud even though that’s far from the truth.

“I was so hoping to see you tonight.” Astarion says and you hear traces of poison in his words, you notice the cold edge in his smile and hardness in his eyes.

“You know my niece?” Duke interrupts the stare-down and Astarion turns to the man, shaking his hand.

“Duke Sanolin, delighted to see you tonight. And yes, I do know your niece.” you near flinch at vampire’s emphasis on your fake title and you look at Duke, seeing that he and Astarion are exchanging some silent understanding, most likely about who you really are, the hired assassin.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she.” Duke smiles at you now and you feel his hand on your lower back as if trying to reassure you, it makes you feel like your heart is being squeezed and a flash of sorrow replaces your anxiety with the wish that your own father was ever this comforting. Alas, you quickly discard the self-pitying thought and smile back to him.

“I’m glad to be here tonight, surely.” you speak and sense Astarion’s gaze burn into you, but you pretend that you don’t feel it or see it.

“Duke Sanolin, would you mind if I stole your niece for a moment or two? There’s something I want to ask her about her… mother.” Astarion pauses as he tries to think of a lie on the spot but since Duke is perfectly aware of your line of work, after all that’s exactly why you’re here, he just gives Astarion a curious look and nods, his hand leaving your back.

“Just for a moment.” he says and Astarion laughs, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re a powerful opponent in a fight, Duke, I’m sure you don’t need a small girl like her protecting you, do you?” Lord Ancunin says with a taunting grin and Sanolin narrows his eyes for a moment, but when his companions burst into lighthearted laughter, he relaxes and laughs along.

“Very true indeed. Go ahead then, steal my niece away, but I want her returned, sooner rather than later, she’s here to observe and to learn.” Duke lies with such conviction that you wonder if he’s becoming delusional, but you understand that maybe this is exactly why he’s a Duke – a good politician knows how to lie without a shadow of doubt in his own words.

Yet you don’t want to go with Astarion. Even when he pulls the empty glass out of your fingers you look at the Duke with questions in your eyes that you hope he can read.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and… observe the conversations?” you ask as the men surrounding Duke now simmer down to chuckles and Duke pauses, then glances at Astarion, noticing his impatience. “I’m sure you won’t miss too much if you’re away for ten minutes or so.” he nods and your stomach clenches but you nod too and inhale deeply before you look at Astarion again, his gleeful expression looks more dangerous than actually happy to you, yet you don’t say another word.

“I will return her shortly.” Astarion ensures Duke Sanolin and when Duke nods to him as well, he briefly licks his lips. “Follow me.” the vampire gestures with a turn on his heel and begins leading you through the crowd.

With leaden feet and arms just as heavy you follow him, preparing yourself for the confrontation. The crimson daggers he was shooting at you the entire conversation, despite how brief it was, make you easily understand that Astarion is angry. Maybe not as angry as he was when he visited your home, but close enough to make you worry about what’s to happen.

The moment main crowd is behind you both, Astarion pauses and turns to you, then grabs your wrist and begins dragging you after him, ignoring servants and several scattered nobles loitering by the ballroom walls as you barely can keep up with him, your skirts burdening your steps.

“I can walk on my own!” you hiss behind him, not wanting to draw even more unneeded attention but you get ignored while Astarion navigates the hall, pulling you deeper into the bowels of the mansion until he arrives to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door.

You try to glance back, to see if anyone is watching, but don’t get the chance when Astarion pulls you into the room with enough force to make you stumble forwards, especially when he suddenly releases your wrist. When you spin around to face him, you watch him slam the door shut and turn the key in the lock, the snap of it sounding like a thunderstrike in the silent room.

Quickly you realize that you’re in party host’s private study as your eyes catch upon tall shelves, shields and paintings adorning the walls. The desk that you nearly ran into, that is now behind you, was empty when you briefly saw it and now you see two full armor knight suits by each side of the door.

At last Astarion turns to you. His expression is a deep frown and he tugs on the sleeves of his bejeweled white and silver attire, then smirks.

“So you’re back.” he starts and you open your mouth to reply but he swiftly raises his upturned palm to you, silencing your words before they leave you. “You’re back and you didn’t even bother telling me. For how long?” the vampire steps towards you and you move backwards away from him, not yet noticing that you’re doing that.

“Last night. I returned only last night and then this morning Duke’s note came.” you hear yourself rushing to explain but Astarion scoffs, his smirk wide and sharp and then it becomes even wider when you bump into the desk behind you, leaving you with no other place to retreat to.

“So instead of sending me a short, quick message that I know you are capable of, instead you prostrate yourself in front of all these rich politicians like a whore begging for attention. I thought I mattered to you more.” he taunts with fire and brimstone in his every word and you begin to feel sweat beading your forehead. Why are you so stressed about confronting him right now? You have no answer.

“I didn’t know I was married to you.” you bravely taunt back with a crooked grin, your palms grasping the edge of the desk and gripping it tight like it’s an anchor to a ship at sea because that’s exactly how you feel right now, lost in the storm that is about to crack the sky wide open.

Astarion pauses his steps at your words, his smirk faltering for a precious moment, then he tilts his chin upwards ever so slightly and takes couple last steps to end up right in front of you, just mere inches away, so close you can smell his perfume and see the dim light reflected in his irises from the few lit candles in the room.

“Would marriage be more preferable than becoming my spawn?” he asks and here it is, just as you suspected it will be – his desire to turn you into his thrall. You knew that he won’t give up the idea easily and you frown, finding your anger.

“Neither would be preferable. Look how you are acting! I do my work but you have the gall to insult me? Call me a whore?” you shoot back and straighten your back, your eyes harden as they look at him and Astarion’s own eyes narrow at your words.

“You told me you wanted me, to be with me.” his voice is dangerously low as he speaks but you don’t care, because what can he even do here, in the home of city’s general, with Duke not far either. Assured that Astarion wouldn’t risk exposing himself by hurting you - you feel emboldened.

“You came into my home and Dominated me, you bastard!” you raise your voice and Astarion’s hands twitch like he wants to do something, to strike you or maybe silence you. You don’t care either way.

“I didn’t force you to say what you said! You wanted it! You admitted it! Now you’re pretending like you haven’t said a word?!” Astarion’s own voice raises as you shout at each other now.

“I’m not pretending! But you’re insane if you think I will drop everything and just run to you the moment I’m back!”

“Why not?! Is carousing with these old cads that much preferable than coming to me?! You take their money so that they can roister with other fat slobs and you try to tell me that’s not what being a whore is?!” Astarion points his finger at you as he shouts, his features twisted in anger and you slap his hand away from your face.

“I’m not fucking them, you spoiled idiot!” you snap back and Astarion’s hand shoots up, his fingers wrap around your throat and start squeezing it.

“But what if you are?!” he hisses at your face while you try to pry his hand off your neck and it finally dawns on you – he’s jealous, isn’t he. He’s jealous because he saw you with the Duke.

“Let go.” you manage to croak with Astarion barely letting you take in any air while your nails scratch at his hand leaving marks, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice that, his crimson eyes blazing with fury and envy that you chose your work over doing something as small as letting him know you’re back.

“No. It’s time you learn once and for all – you are mine.” a wicked grin suddenly appears on his face and while you try not to panic at all the possibilities that can happen, you feel Astarion use his other hand to pull the dress off your shoulders in several harsh yanks, the seams straining and snapping.

“Astarion, what do you think you’re doing.” your voice is coarse, barely a whisper but he’s not even looking at you.

He’s holding you in place by your neck while he moves the dress down your arms, making you release his wrist when the fabric begins cutting into your skin, the garment then is moved lower, your breasts become exposed and you grit your teeth while Astarion moves the top of your dress to your waist, making sure that your wrists are still in the sleeves, binding them to your body this way.

“I know you want to be mine. You can’t deny it, I can hear your heart beating fast and not from fear, little assassin. I’ll show to you just how badly you want to belong to me” vampire responds with a degree of calmness in his voice and when his eyes finally raise to your face, he notices a traitorous blush on your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful when you are forced into submission.” he whispers and you part your lips to speak but stop when you feel the heat of his palm on your breast, fondling it, squeezing it, then his fingertips find your hardened nipple and pluck at it, making you gasp ever so softly with your neck still being squeezed. Your body responds to the rough teasing, desire begins to uncoil in your lower abdomen and for a moment you hate it.

“Stop it!” you manage a whisper and finally Astarion’s fingers on your neck relent, letting you inhale more air but also making you slightly dizzy in the process. You try to remove your hands from your dress sleeves, feeling like you’re being shackled but Astarion interrupts your attempt by harshly kissing you on the mouth.

Your lips were parted as you were gasping for air and he wastes no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to lean back from him but all you achieve is Astarion biting down on your lower lip just for a moment and grabbing your hips, lifting them so that you drop on the desk on your back with a thud. You lift your head to look at him and notice his eyes scanning your exposed chest while he moves your body for you, pushing it more onto the desk.

“What do you think you’re doing! It’s host’s office!” you hiss with both anger and slightly panicked concern that someone might come looking for you, sooner rather than later, but it’s like Astarion doesn’t hear you.

Annoyed that he’s treating you like this you try to free your wrists again only for him to grab at the fabric in a way that it brings both of your hands together and he tsks at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment while he grins.

“Don’t struggle little assassin, you know you want this just as much as I do.” he says almost calmly if not for his eyes betraying his passion and desire.

“I have to go back, Duke-“

“Fuck the Duke.” Astarion suddenly snaps at you, clearly unhappy that you still try to resist him, try to argue with him, because obviously he doesn’t care about anything but this moment and you. “I will do whatever I please, to whoever I please, whenever I please.” his words are choppy and you feel your heart skip a beat at this. You realize that his arrogance and assurance that nobody can stop him is exactly what you find so alluring about him.

“Astarion-“

“No, no more words from you.” his brows are furrowed and with other hand he finds his way under your dress, finding your underwear and yanking it down with three swift, practiced pulls, wrangling it down your legs with ease. You watch him with surprise because he’s so different right now compared to two other times you fucked. There’s something else about him now, less charm and more confidence? No, that’s not right.

Dominance.

Dominance urged by his jealousy and his desire to make you finally submit.

And then his eyes flash red at you before you notice him holding your undergarment before he bunches it up in his fist and pauses just for a second. Astarion then quickly leans over you, his hand releasing your dress and now gripping your jaw, pushing his thumb and index finger into your cheeks until you are forced to open your mouth. Not that you resist much, caught completely off-guard by his sudden attack. You make a sound of protest and then your own underwear gets shoved into your mouth. You make another noise, startled and shocked but Astarion only clamps a palm over your lips with a grin.

“I think it’s for the best if you remain quiet for now.” he says with a bitter tone and you know he’s still angry, you can see it in his eyes, the possessiveness that he doesn’t even try to fight, because right now he just embraces it. You are his, that’s how he sees it, and he’s ought to teach you that once and for all.

Your eyes scan the room while you try to figure your way out of this predicament and while you’re not looking Astarion leans back from you, his palm leaving your mouth and for a brief second you try to push the fabric out of your mouth, but then clamp on it with your teeth when you feel two fingers plunge into your cunt. Your eyes immediately snap back to Astarion who’s watching his digits begin to pump in and out of you, enjoying how your body responds by clenching and releasing, getting wetter for him by the second. A smirk widens on his face as his gaze remains locked on your core swallowing his fingers with a wet sound.

“This is how I like you best, my little assassin. Submissive and eager for me.” Astarion croons, his jealous anger finally dissipating into nothing, replaced by pure desire. Palm of his other hand presses against the inside of your right thigh then pushes your legs wider apart and the tip of his tongue licks at his upper lip. “You will look absolutely wonderful as you stand by my side in the Crimson Palace.” he speaks more to himself than to you now, his fingers curling and stroking your inner walls, making you shiver and breathe faster as fire quickly spreads through your body, making you forget your fight at least for the time being. “You don’t know it yet, but you will love to be mine, I promise you that, darling.”

Astarion’s eyes do not leave your spread legs when he pulls his fingers out of you, together drawing a muffled moan out of your throat and then his head dips down and you moan around your gag louder when his hot tongue greedily presses against your drenched folds. He licks them, parts them with the tip of his tongue and then rubs against the nub of your clit while his fingers return and spread your entrance, this time making you squirm as your legs shake from tension and uncomfortable position. Astarion has a free hand and he puts it to use, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder while his tongue slithers down from your clit to your wide open cunt and he fills it with eager devotion. You mewl as you watch him with strained from pleasure expression, but soon your neck gets tired and you let your head drop back on the desk while vampire’s tongue explores you as deeply as it possibly can, making you pant out soft sighs at his ministrations.

“Ahh, delicious.” you hear Astarion exhale the moment his mouth leaves you and you exhale with relief when your body relaxes. “But that’s not all, little love.” he coos and your heavy-lidded eyes find his face. You watch him lick his lips, then quickly undo his pants, first the belt, then the buttons and then he pulls out his hard cock, the tip of it glistening with precum, and your throat involuntarily attempts to swallow, the gag in your mouth becoming drenched with your saliva. Astarion laughs. “I see the hungry look in your eyes, but don’t worry, I will give you exactly what you want.” a wicked grin and then he aims his length at you, teasing the tip against your wetness. “So ready for me with so little effort. You’re so easy.” he taunts with a chuckle and you blush heavily because something about how he says it makes your blood run faster and compels you to want to please him.

With a soft hum as he watches himself tease your cunt with his velvety tip Astarion finally pauses, nudging your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling back. His eyes flick to you to watch your reaction as he does it again and again, making your brain lose any thought except for all-consuming desire for him to stop it, to just fuck you, you’re not used to these types of games, but it looks like this is exactly why Astarion is doing this. He’s enjoying driving you crazy and it’s written all over your face how impatient you are already.

“I wish I could hear you beg, make you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use for once, but alas.” Astarion muses and just as you furrow your brows at his words he wipes everything from your mind by thrusting deeply and powerfully into you.

You cry out, your underwear in your mouth muffling nearly all of it and you watch Astarion smile widely, satisfied by your receptive reaction.

“Good girl, I prefer when you don’t struggle.” he teases and begins pumping.

His pushes are slow in the beginning and Astarion grabs your wrists now, holding them together at your waist as he increases his pace, plunging into you faster and harder. You mewl at his every shove into your core and watch his perfect curls lose their assembly with each passing moment, you see the sweat appear on Astarion’s forehead and his eyes are focused on your breasts that are swinging invitingly as he fucks you on top of this desk and yet he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“You’re perfect. Every time I have you like this I realize it more and more. You’re perfect…” his own voice starts becoming strained, his thrusts hard and heavy, and you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper into you, making him glance up at your eyes. “Just perfect…” he affirms and bites his lower lip while his face flushes with his physical exertion and his eyes move from yours to your lips, then to your neck.

No, you can’t stop yourself, this feels too good and you bite on your gag as you watch yourself being fucked by a man who you tried to resist for so long. For so long you were trying to escape the truth, deeper truth than that you have feelings for him. Truth, that the thought of being his spawn is not as unappealing as you kept trying to convince yourself. And as his cock strokes you deep inside, making you feel more than pleasure, more than a temporary satisfaction, making you feel like you are wanted and needed, you let go and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy this fully. But that’s what you were looking for all your life – someone to take charge and just allow you to enjoy yourself. Maybe that’s what you want for eternity too.

You suddenly gasp, brought back to the present as you feel Astarion’s fangs pierce your breast. When you open your eyes you now see that his mouth is wrapped tightly around your left nipple, his tongue moving against it, sucking hard, soothing the pain from his fangs now embedded into your supple flesh. Your eyes meet his when he lifts his red gaze to you and you see nothing but desire in them even through the curl now hanging over his face.

With a wet sound Astarion release your breast and you notice two puncture wounds, slowly beginning to seep blood while he straightens his back, his face covered in sweat and his lips painted in crimson, then his hands move and force your legs open, making you release the grip of your thighs on his hips with ease.

“You’re mine and you will be forever be mine.” Astarion says it with such conviction that you don’t think, you just nod to him as your dry throat tries to make your moans louder. “Yes? Nod again.” he commands and you nod eagerly again while he handles your legs by grabbing underside of your thighs and pushing them up, then down, nearly bending you in half as his cock manages to slide even deeper into you than before. “Good girl.” Astarion’s voice becomes audibly strained but he grins from under his eyebrows and begins thrusting again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your fingers clench at your dress harder and harder but you don’t notice that at all, instead you arch your neck and let out cry after cry with every mind-numbing pump only to be silenced by your gag. Astarion is panting too, his groans and moans louder and louder each time his body rocks against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room alongside your voices and your back arches, you’re so close now, so close to the promised release.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I don’t think I will ever get tired of fucking you.” Astarion’s heat of passion has taken over him and he pounds into you with reckless abandon now, chasing his own climax without caring to tease you or prolong it any longer.

And then a knock on the door. Astarion doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch but you open your eyes, trying to gather your scattered thoughts to understand what’s going on.

“I can hear you in there! Come out at once!” Duke Sanolin’s voice barely registers in your clouded mind and more bangs on the door do not delay the orgasm that is approaching you like a tidal wave. “Do you hear me?!” an angry voice, but you don’t care. Rest of the bangs and words fade from your reality when you close your eyes again.

“Get the FUCK away from the door!” you suddenly hear Astarion snap angrily and the banging on the door stops.

You whine with pleasure, ignoring all of this and feel Astarion bend over you, squishing you underneath him as his tongue leaves a hot trail on your skin between your breasts. And then his voice reaches your mind, a strained whisper.

“Come for me, my love.” he nips at your right breast, his thrusts not relenting and it’s like this is all you needed to hear. You let go.

With a scream of pleasure behind your gag you come, your body straining, your cunt clenching around Astarion’s cock and with a loud groan he climaxes, spilling inside of you and filling you while his erratic thrusts try to prolong the bliss even for a second more. You don’t even feel how Astarion’s fingers dig deep into your thighs as he loses control and everything disappears except your satisfaction until it finally retreats and your body relaxes.

You lay there, gasping for air and finally remember that you can just spit out your gag. Yet before you do, you feel it being pulled from between your teeth and when you open your eyes, you see Astarion gently removing your underwear from your mouth. He smiles to you and then places a kiss on your dry lips, wetting them with his tongue.

“You did so well, my love, so well.” he praises as he gently lets you lower your legs and you try to gather your scattered mind, trying to catch your breath.

“Someone was here. Duke… It was the Duke.” you murmur and Astarion only chuckles.

“Yes he was and now he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. Be mine, little assassin. Be mine forever. You can’t tell me that eternity of us doesn’t sound good.” Astarion’s lips that were whispering against yours now move down to your neck and you tense for a moment, only for him to chuckle and look back at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you here.”

“But you are going to turn me.” you begin to find your voice despite your throat feeling raw and Astarion gently rubs a pad of his thumb against your lower lip.

“You want it. I know you do. You want me to take care of you.” he whispers and something breaks in you, snaps in a way you never expected. What’s the point in lying and pretending.

What’s the point in struggling only to die.

The promise of immortality. A promise of eternity with him. Do you feel this strongly about Astarion? But as you look at his tired, sweaty face, as you see his smile that looks genuine and as you see desperate yearning in his eyes you realize that yes, you do.

“I want it.” you respond in barely a whisper and Astarion’s eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles.

“Wonderful.” he says but then pulls back from you, sliding himself out of you and letting his cum seep out of your sore cunt before he helps you sit up and free your hands from binds of your own dress.

You glance up at him as you rub your wrists but you’re allowed that only for a moment before Astarion draws you off the desk and into his arms, holding you firmly. His kiss is sudden and scorching while you still try to recover from everything but his happiness is obvious. Then he leans back before you are even able to kiss him back, his palms quickly move to cradle your face as he looks at you with relief on his face.

“Come to the palace. Tomorrow. I will have everything ready so that your step into immortality is perfect. I promise you this, my little assassin, I will make sure that you don’t regret this.” Astarion whispers and your heart beats faster in your chest. You heard promises like this before, many times, but somehow when it’s Astarion who’s saying them - you believe him.

“Tomorrow?” you ask, still dazed and trying to process everything.

“Leave the details to me. Just come to me when sun goes down. And… don’t change your mind.” he frowns slightly, as if worried you might not appear but you sigh and grasp his waist, pulling your body against his. There’s no fight left in you anymore, just acceptance. So you smile and give him a brief kiss.

“I’ll be there tomorrow evening, as you wish.” you promise and Astarion’s gaze slips down your face, then to your neck ever so briefly before his eyes are on yours again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #lord astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x reader #x reader #female reader #reader insert #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion smut #my fics #darkness of seven

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marinahavik · 2 months ago

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for @cheerleaderman 's Halloween event

When Summoned: What kind of prize will I win if I find the pumpkin king?

Summon Line: time to scare, and candy grab

Groooovy!!: [blocked]

Home: my costume?, I'm a haunted killer doll

Home idle 1: I've always liked dolls, especially the old ones, but some people find them scary, my twin brother was really scared of one of my old dolls, I made my dress inspired by it

Home idle 2: the blindfold on my eyes?, it was for aesthetics, lie I wasn't able to do the eyeliner properly, and I was already late so I decided to wear a blindfold

Home idle 3: In my country there is a legend that when some objects are over 100 years old they come to life and become Youkais, and there is also a legend that if you abandon your doll it will come to life to kill you, so don't abandon me, okay?

Home idle- login: I love Halloween it's one of my favorite times of year, trick or treat?

Home tap 1: I ended up joining the skeleton team, time to look for the pumpkin king

Home tap 2: I found someone with a pumpkin head, but before I could go after her, someone threw a bunch of plastic spiders at Jamil, Kalim and I tried to stop him from starting a fire.

Home Tap 3: I'm lucky that I can see with this blindfold on my eyes, but this fog gets in the way a bit, is it just me or are there a lot of ghosts with strange appearances?

Home tap 4: It's so good to see Crowley finally doing his job and not playing for others, and he even went to the dungeon, Long live the Pumpkin King

Home tap 5: This is a really fun party, I've already taken some amazing photos

Home tap-groovy: [Bloqueado]

Duo

Yumi: trick or treat trappola?

Ace: sweets are good but tricks seem more fun

This was a lot of fun, the drawing may have some mistakes, and I still need to improve when it comes to shadows, and on the bust, but other than that it turned out pretty good, I loved participating in this event

#twisted wonderland #twst original character #twisted oc #yumi yozakura #Findpumpkinking twisted wonderland fanevent

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fictional-idol-tournament · 1 year ago

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The two idols with the most votes will go on to join the bracket.

Propaganda below the cut:

Mika Kagehira

- HE'S MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW HE'S LITERALLY ME I LOVE HIM SO MUCH he loves fixing plushies and eating candy he's a little bit insane and he's really pretty, in could talk about him for days but I don't wanna bore you so I'll just tell you he once almost buried a friend alive cause he didn't wake up from a nap and he killing someone would affect his boyfriend's reputation

- hes wet. hes pathetic. hes got heterochromia. hes got a really gay doll x puppetmaster thing going on with a guy who looks like a hairless cat. he rescues old plushies from dumpsters. he likes cheap candy because the expensive types make his stomach hurt. he can read old english. he draws eroguro. he thought he killed his roommate and nearly buried him alive. he went on a mad chainsaw rampage in a vr world. he later destroyed cryptocurrency with his unit leader in that same vr world. he got possessed by a haunted doll once. his solo song is a waltz and his singing voice is beautiful. need i say more

Arashi Narukami

- the world would be darker without arashi in it. she is the most beautiful and wonderful and lovely woman to have ever existed and she KNOWS she's pretty and we stan a self-confident queen who knows her worth

Mayoi Ayase

- HES SO SILLY. he hides in the walls and ceilings and is scared by everything like a bug

Aira Shiratori

- Idol stan who eventually became an idol in his own right! Truly he's living the dream and having fun with the rest of Alkaloid and his new idol friends at ES

- silly little guy

- huge fan of idols

- he wanted to become an idol so he did but he sucked so bad that his agency threatened to kick him out

-has a catchphrase

#polls #pre-tournament #ensemble stars #mika kagehira #arashi narukami #mayoi ayase #aira shiratori

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lakesbian · 1 year ago

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thots on blake's backstory? it may not be real but it still affects his characterization so its worth asking i think

insofar as it did not literally happen in real life it's not real but insofar as he remembers & is impacted by it + his friends remembered & were impacted by it up until he got eated, it's real to him and them. i would not have pegged "cult survivor" specifically but yeah that checks. it's so funny (terrible for him) that miss grandma thorburn was like. hmm i need to make sure he really doesn't like hugs. and then hit him with the double whammy of "survivor of cult where manipulation into sex was used to keep men satisfied enough to stay & entrap women, and also he gets sexually assaulted after he leaves said cult juuuuust in case the cult thing on its own wasn't enough." it's like customizing a picrew but with intense human suffering instead of fun outfits. anyway, yeah, it checks. paranoia wrt other ppls motives, intense discomfort towards touch, funnily enough still not great at noting when something is too good to be true or someone is a little happier than they should be about smth. love how existentially horrifying it is for him that he's really tenacious and vigilant but in a way that leads him to disastrous pyrrhic victories rather than long-term survival and that's Explicitly bc gramma custom-tweaked his brain to make him the ideal meatshield who draws fire and then explodes. i'm really really endeared to the character trait where he Admits to himself that as much as he responds like a cornered animal (one w/ the worlds lamest oneliners) when threatened, if those threats are actually followed through on, he Will immediately start freezing and crying and pissing himself. like he's haunted by the memory of begging carl to take him back so that carl will stop, and he very desperately wants to Never be that person ever again, so even when he runs into someone as big & terrifying as conquest, he refuses to give an inch--he can't stand feeling like he remembers feeling back then--but he very much knows that if conquest called his bluff & started dragging him off he'd instantly turn into that person he never wants to be. his life sucks! both in terms of apparent memories and in terms of the Sheer Existential Horror of why he has those memories! devastating for the guy who has an entire Complex about the sanctity of his body & identity that literally none of his body or identity is his, it was all cobbled together from other people for the sole purpose of using him as a tool. even his own rejection of touch isn't his, it was forced upon him.

which. hm. i will say i think that's why arc 9 is paradoxically a form of catharsis & freedom--despite it being a horrific low point, it's not so much corruption of his body as it is him realizing that the changes haven't been corruption but what his body has been all along being revealed. the form he takes on when he's filled in by spirits is arguably more His than his old body was, because it's something he's gained thru his own choices & life experiences rather than the simulated ones that were forced upon him. he literally described himself as a doll, he's experienced the ultimate violation of autonomy thru being custom-manipulated to serve a purpose--choosing to fuck his own hand up and grow branches in place of false flesh is more Him than the original flesh ever was. his life is going to be awful forever and he will be reduced to next to nothing but it will be His nothing, i think.

#ask #pact time #pactblr #<-on 10.1 no spoilers. i want attention but no spoilers

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aemondslefteyeball · 1 year ago

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Let's Have a Satanic Orgy!

[Visenya Targaryen x Fem!Reader]

[Warnings: Degradation, spit, slapping, spanking, lots of sacrilege, general blanket warning for lots and lots of sacrilege, choking, implied gore]

[Summary: A heteronormative, Gods-fearing Westerosi family navigates life in a world rife with temptation and sin!]

(Tbh I think this is the most fun thing I've written so far this might turn into a series idk. Title comes from this song, please support the band they’re both super cool)

Word Count: 2.9K

Maegor & the Meaning of Friendship

Raising children is hard. Raising your lover’s child is harder, especially when he’s an unholy, incestuous abomination borne of a lesbian’s blood magic. And that leads to predicaments such as the one you found yourself in right now. Little Maegor was napping happy as a lamb while he levitated two feet above his crib. You had just got him back down. Sighing before tiptoeing your way around the defense glyphs on the floor, you reached your hands under the sleeping child as gently as you could before lowering him to the bed. That was the exact moment violet eyes snapped open and demonic wails rang through one of the few completed towers. Sighing, you shushed him as you bounced Maegor on one hip, grabbing his favorite ceremonial toy dagger. When the toy did little to appease him, you cleared your throat.

“Hush little darling,

Dream of pain.

Screaming, brimstone, blood in rain.

But if those Riverlands don’t burn,

Momma’s gonna turn them into an urn.”

The child smiled as his head lolled back onto your shoulder. He dropped the dagger, but you bid a shadow to catch it before the clatter woke him again. He was growing by the day, and it was apparently starting to become an issue for his wet nurses. You regenerated two pairs of nipples this week alone. And that was nothing compared to the first time Maegor discovered what teeth could do and you spent a week trying to revive his Septa until giving up and binding her soul to a child’s doll that now sat untouched in the corner of his room. Sighing, you made a mental note to go through which bound souls he did and didn’t play with so you could release the ones he ignored. As you tiptoed back over the sigils in the floor, you grabbed a pouch of hangman’s ash from the interior of your dress and sprinkled it over the line you had broken upon entering the room. Closing the door after you, you crept along the shadows through the keep until arriving at the yard. Empty. She’s running herself too thin. Visenya hadn’t been arriving at your shared chambers until after the hour of the owl most nights. But you didn’t mind, the night had always been to your liking, and nights with her were nothing short of perfect. Lateness be damned. When her last haunt turned up empty, you frowned. The only other finished parts of the castle were the kitchens and the Sept. It was decidedly…unlike her to be there but worst case scenario she wouldn’t be there and you could just make another Septon piss himself. To your surprise, Visenya stood before the altar and took in the effigies of six gods. “I’ve always found it strange that they never worship the only God of theirs that’s actually real.”

Visenya turned around at the purr of your voice, a dark chuckle escaping her lips. “And yet the farce drones on. But appearances must be maintained.” Gliding to meet her at the altar, you smiled when your love pulled you in for a kiss. With a flick of your hand, the heavy wooden doors slammed shut, and you bit into Visenya’s lip hard enough to draw blood. She moaned when your tongue probed at the cut, and you pulled away for a brief second.

“Do you know what our son has been up to?” Your arms came to rest on the blonde’s broad shoulders, pressing the curve of your chest into her.

Visenya grunted as she pivoted so the back of your thighs was flush with the altar. “There are other things on my mind.” A wicked grin split your lover’s face as her rough hands dropped to your thighs, pulling your weight out from under you as she pushed you back onto the altar.

You let out a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow at her as you stumbled back. “Like maintaining appearances?”

A dark look flashed across Visenya’s face, and she tenderly lifted your arms from her shoulders. She took care to press gentle kisses along your wrists, locking eye contact with you before she pulled her belt off and bound your wrists with it. A single finger tilted your chin up, a predatory look on the Queen’s face. “Appearances will be kept, in public.” Her thumb stroked softly at your jaw as your gaze came back to focus on the dribble of blood from Visenya’s lower lip. “But since there isn’t an audience here,” She almost sounded disappointed, even if her better instincts told her otherwise. “You are going to be a good girl and help me defile this.” The words were spoken in a soft coo, with a razor’s edge beneath it. Visenya placed a kiss on the tip of your nose before she shoved you onto your back. “Hands above your head. Don’t move them.” She didn’t wait for you to adjust yourself, her hands rising to the neckline of your dress and promptly tearing the lace.

“Hey!” You let out an indignant huff.

“Shut up.” When you opened your mouth to retort, she brought a hand down to slap at your exposed breast, the peak stiffening. “If you complain again, you’ll be returning to our chambers naked.” Your lover's hand wandered over your torso, and you arched your back into her touch. A smug look pulled across Visenya’s features as she rolled your nipple between her fingers, her mouth pulling the other in. A bolt of heat jolted to your core as her tongue stroked your nipple, clenching around nothing as you let a breathy moan escape you. Teeth pulled gently at the peak, as her fingers pinched at the other. Her moan vibrated against your flesh, lavishing your breast before slapping the other once more. Satisfied, she released your nipple with a wet pop and flicked her feral gaze up to you. Methodically, her hand rose until two fingers rested against your bottom lip. Opening your mouth, you flicked your tongue across her fingers, wetting the digits thoroughly before pressing a kiss on her fingertips. Visenya’s fingers dug into your thigh hard enough to leave bruises, while she brought the other to brush against your lower lips. Light as a feather, her touch never lingered against your skin for longer than a few moments. You clenched your jaw shut, knowing that she would only prolong the teasing if you complained about it. Fingertips grazed closer and closer to your center, and when you started bucking your hips to try and meet them, her other hand pressed your hips down flat into the altar.

You finally shot her a pleading look, stilling your movements. “Please, my Queen.”

A wild grin pulled across Visenya’s features, her fingertips circling your bud as you moaned. “All you had to do was ask.” She cooed again, her tone condescending. By now you should be used to begging her for what you wanted, but it wasn’t something that came naturally. Your abdominal muscles tensed as she continued the lazy pace on your bud. Hooded eyes opened to meet her fiery gaze, and her left hand traversed up your torso, coming to rest under your jaw. “Open.” When your lips parted you were rewarded with the pace on your bud quickening, a soft whine escaping you before Visenya spat into your mouth. Pushing your mouth closed and watching you swallow, her thumb tenderly brushed against your lip for a moment before her expression stilled. Her hand was pulled away from your face, and you mourned the loss of contact before the sting bloomed across your cheek. Visenya waited for you to look back at her before her hand cracked across your face again. “Never talk back to me.” She cooed, lowering her fingers to prod at your entrance, but refusing to give you what you need. “I thought by now you would know your place.” She continued as the hand that struck you came to rest on your throat. “And what is that, precisely?” Before you could answer, her fingers squeezed against the sides of your throat. Visenya chuckled darkly as you clenched uselessly around her digits.

“Your whore.” The wheeze was barely audible, and your lover squeezed your throat harder.

Visenya knit her eyebrows together in false concern. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear that.” She murmured. You tried again, but the words were muffled once more. Heat shot to your core as you writhed uselessly against the queen, tears pricking at your eyes. “Nope, still nothing, I’m afraid.” She said with a mocking sigh, finally releasing her grip.

“Your whore.” You gasped out with the first breath you could suck in, a pleased smile tugging at Visenya’s sculpted face. Two fingers pushed into you suddenly, and you moaned at the fullness. Visenya didn’t give you a chance to adjust, her pace punishing as she curved her fingers into the rough spot that made your vision go blurry. Your teeth dug into your lower lip as you strained against the leather binding your hands. Heat was building in your lower abdomen, your muscles being pulled ever tenser at her continued ministrations. “May I cum?” Visenya quickened her pace, and your hips rolled to meet her actions. Bringing her thumb up to stroke your bud, tension built ever higher in your gut.

“No.” The reply came lovingly whispered, and you knit your eyebrows together, closing your eyes.

“Please.” You begged, opening your eyes once more to lock with hers as you desperately tried to hold in the wave of pleasure that was about to break within you.

Visenya looked annoyed, and pulled her fingers out of you at once, slapping your core before shooting you a hard glare. She wrenched you to your feet before promptly bending you over the altar and tearing the remains of your dress off your body. Her fingers laced into your hair and she pulled back until you were looking at her. “Five.” She said simply, untangling her fingers from your hair and pushing your hips into the marble before her hand cracked against your exposed ass. A second later a second one came to the other cheek.

“One.” You moaned out, slick leaking out onto the altar as your lover gently rubbed the reddened flesh.

Visenya’s hand cracked out against your skin two more times. “Two.”

The blonde tutted approvingly behind you, the hand on your hip rubbing gentle circles as she rained the next few blows onto you. Visenya breathed raggedly, while you savored the feeling of her hot skin against yours. When the last blow fell, you took a second to catch your breath. “Five.” Pressing into her touch, you let the silence hang between you two for a second longer. “Thank you, my Queen.”

Visenya pulled back, taking a step back from the altar. Her deft hands moved to undo the laces of her breeches. “Is a little gratitude so difficult?” She mused, her pants dropping before she carefully stepped out of them. “On your knees.” You dropped immediately, holding your hands up so that Visenya could undo the belt. Afterward, your hands raised to your lover’s smallclothes and you waited for an approving nod before pulling them down. Visenya stepped out of them and promptly hooked her thigh over your shoulder. Pressing a soft kiss to her bundle, you relished the way her fingers tightened in your hair. Your tongue darted out to taste her, and she let out a low moan. Swirling your tongue around her bud, you dropped your face so that your nose ground into her clit while your tongue pressed into her entrance. You moaned at her taste, and Visenya tensed against you at the vibrations, her hips rolling against your face. Slick coated your chin as you continued to tonguefuck your Queen, her moans heady as she ground against your face. “Fingers.” Visenya commanded, and you nodded before coating two in her slick and pushing them into her. “Fuck.” The blonde groaned as she clenched around your fingers. "Such a good little whore for me." You merely started thrusting them into her, drunken off the sound of her building moans and harsh words. When you prodded the rough spot behind her pelvis, Visenya’s movements grew erratic. She rode your face without abandon, her fingers white-knuckling your hair as she squeezed yours. You didn’t stop after her moans hit a crescendo, your fingers continuing at the bruising pace she loved. You lapped up every drop of her cum, licking it off your lips when she finally pulled you away from her core. Visenya looked so fucking beautiful like this, her silver hair frizzing around her face and her heavy-lidded eyes staring down at you lovingly. She closed her violet irises for a few moments longer, lips parted as she caught her breath. When her eyes opened again, they were once more darkened with lust. She pulled you to your feet before pushing you back against the altar. This time she turned you so you lay along the length of the marble, and she crawled up after you, coming to settle between your parted legs. Her hot breath teased against your throbbing core, slick coating your thighs as she pressed her lips to them. Her tongue darted out to taste your essence, looking up at you with a dark look in her eyes before she bit into your thigh. You grunted in pain, another wave of arousal shooting through you as Visenya released you. Pressing a kiss to the burning flesh, she finally swiped her tongue across you, spreading your slick around with a deft tongue. She didn’t wait a moment longer before feasting on you like a starved woman, her lips pressing around your button before she sucked on it and slipped a finger into you. Your heels dug into the marble as you writhed against her touch, wild moans filling the sept. In response, she slid another finger into you and increased the pace, her eyes wild as she drove herself into you.

When the heat started to build in your gut once more you reached out to hold the hand that she had rested on your hip, and squeezed it lightly. “May I please cum?” You whimpered, arched against the cool marble. Visenya hummed approvingly against you, her fingers quickening as your orgasm came crashing over you. Every muscle in your body tensed as you clenched impossibly tight around your lover’s fingers, hips rolling as you moaned out Visenya’s name incoherently. She didn’t let up until you had started to whimper and push her away, pulling back to rest her head against your thigh. A haughty grin spread across her face at the sight of you, but her hands were gentle as they stroked your thigh.

She came to sit up on the altar, pulling your head into her lap. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Guilt tinged at her tone, and you squeezed her arm reassuringly as you shook your head no. She nodded and tutted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “And you know I love you?” You smiled and pushed yourself up, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

“I love you too.” Having the power to clothe yourself in shadows was entirely useless until it wasn’t. Since meeting Visenya you have become well practiced in it. The tatters of nightshade fabric fell back over your body as if it had been poured there, and the two of you left the sept hand in hand as you returned to the royal apartments.

When the two of you arrived, you were both shocked to see Maegor tearing the heads off of the soul dolls while Aenys watched horrified a few feet away. “Maegor!” You exclaimed. Honestly, you didn’t know where he got his atrocious manners from some days. You would say his father if Aegon had anything to do with his birth because he certainly wasn’t around to teach him afterward. Shaking your head, you gathered a few of the dolls before passing them to Aenys. “We’ve talked about this.” You said gently, kneeling down to look Maegor in the eyes. He stared glumly down at his feet, and you looked back to see Visenya leaning against the doorway with an amused smile on her face. Turning back, you waited for him to raise his gaze to yours, and when he did you gave him a gentle smile. “It’s impolite to not share with your brother.” You explained, gesturing over at Aenys, who was cradling the doll holding the Septa’s soul. “How would you feel if he was tearing the heads off of his toys and didn’t offer any to you?” The boy’s lower lip trembled for a second as he nodded.

“I’m sorry, Aenys.” You kissed Maegor on the forehead after he said it, and rose back to your feet. Taking a few steps back, you rejoined Visenya where she was watching the two boys. Aenys tentatively tugged at the doll’s head while Maegor beamed at him, when it wrenched loose a howling wail filled the tower. Maegor giggled excitedly, and Aenys was so excited from all of it that he started sobbing. You looked at Visenya lovingly and laced your fingers into hers. “We did a good thing.” You said, resting your head on her muscular shoulder.

Raising children was hard, but it was easy when you were doing it with the person you love most in the world.

#visenya targaryen x reader #queen visenya #visenya the conqueror #visenya x reader #Visenya x you #Visenya Targaryen x you #visenya targaryen #asoiaf #visenya smut #asoiaf smut #visenya fic

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butchsophiewalten · 1 year ago

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Findjackwalten 07/15/23 Update #1 and #2 Walkthrough

Findjackwalten updated TWICE yesterday! There's no new pages but a LOT of already existing pages have changed, several of them more than once.

UPDATE #1:

Findjackwalten.com

Lots of these images of Bon have appeared on top of the whole page. The page in this screenshot is SUPPOSED to be grey except for the new bons, but The Wayback Machine doesn't archive that color overlay in the page capture.

If you use something like Ublock Origin to remove the Bon assets you can see the bit of white-on-black text reads "Say something..."

This image also seems to be the same as the backdrop to this teaser

Seeing it now it's more obvious what the drawing is actually of. Bon is wearing a hard hat, with little screws and bolts of electricity around him. It seems engineering-related, like somewhere Susan would work.

Findjackwalten.com/martinguaridasecretanoentrar

This page has been outfitted with three new Funny Walten Facts

"Goodfaith Caring"

This one's enigmatic. Exact google search results are nonexistent (IE, searching the name in quotation marks), so it probably refers to something in universe? It's capitalized, so it's a proper noun. Maybe the name of a company? Maybe even the name of an episode of something? An episode of The Walten Files? and episode of Little Bon's Neighborhood? An episode of The Showstoppers Comedy Extravaganza?????? It's so vague I really don't even know what to say here.

"Sha was originally named "Belle" or "Belly" so that all the names would start with a B and be named the "THE 4 B's" or "THE B PACK" instead of "THE SHOWSTOPPERS", but Sha sounded more adequate. She was actually the last showstopper to be made and a final addition because back when TWF was a fangame i needed a character to balance the group more and a more adequate stage companion to Bon than Banny (too similar to Candy and Cindy from good ol FNaC) so Sha was made, so yeah, my fav showstopper right there."

Something I mostly knew already but was pretty obscure! I always really love getting a look into the creation of The Walten Files, and this bit about Sha only existing as to make Welcome to Bon's Burgers less similar to Five Nights at Candy's is a really fun fact.

"No she wasn't homeless, it was just cheaper than paying for an actual apartment"

An elaboration on the Sophie fact from before. This just makes this previously devastating Sophie information really funny. He lived in a meat shop for three years because the rent was cheap. His whole life is so bizarre.

Findjackwalten.com/poker

Nearly the same as always, except the top text has changed to read "It was not quick."

Findjackwalten.com/890247895yuiowarsehiofhkjy890wte

There is LOADS of text on this page now. It reads like more Anthony website posting, which definitely confirms this being a sort of bizarro 'missing link' from the nonfunctional "Object Possession" link on /brightonghosts.

This "Jazmin Doll" story is completely fictional and exclusive to the universe of The Walten Files. There is some (completely unsubstantiated) speculation that Child's Play could be based on the real-world haunted artifact of Robert the doll, but that's obviously not what's being referred to here.

The important information here is this:

"dOnce [sic] the soul chooses it's vessel, it becomes it's body. However, the longer it spends inside of it. The more it becomes it's ACTUAL body. (Jazmin's body was the doll, the wood was her skin, the wooden arm was her real arm.) it can cause it pain and it can feel everything it touches. this has been named amongst us ghostfans as "Post-Extensive Object Possesion"'

This is like. a CRAZY bomb of information to be given about the ghosts in this universe. I don't want to theorize about it too much since I try to keep crazy theories away from these walkthrough posts, but holy shit.

Another little thing here is that there's some odd letters on this page that i'm not totally willing to write off as just typos. There's a missing "e" and "g" in this bit here:

And an extra letter "d" here:

No clue what this means, or if it spells something, or anything.

Last thing I wanna point out with this one page is the little stipulation at the beginning where Anthony mentions that if the story he talks about is proven fake, he might delete the page. This might be what happened, and why the main /brightonghosts page doesn't link off to it?

Findjackwalten.com/ghosttalk

This page is the same except for this little addition just at the bottom:

This update seems to corroborate the new information on the Object Possession page, that ghosts within haunted objects eventually 'become' the object and experience a sort of 'life' within it.

Findjackwalten.com/brightonghosts

A new update from Anthony!

He's found some new stuff to show us! And apparently the K-9 facility is now demolished? That sounds familiar enough that it might've been something we knew before but I can't exactly remember. The Jane Walten mystery continues.

Findjackwalten.com/btscene

Just a small update, one new image at the very bottom:

UPDATE #2

Findjackwalten.com

The same as the last main page update, but with new white-on-black text:

This is a quote from How The Grinch Stole Christmas, which is... interesting? It's making me think back on notable presents in The Walten Files. We see a lot of present boxes in Bunnyfarm that usually involve a ghost/animatronic giving one to Sophie which kickstarts a Scary segment.

There's also the fact that Rocket was a Christmas present

Findjackwalten.com/poker

A really weird update here. We have that exact same quote from How The Grinch Stole Christmas, and the normal /poker image has been replaced with one with this ominous white face peering out from behind the grandfather clock.

Findjackwalten.com/brightonghosts

Just a little funny edit of Anthony trying to fix his slipup

Findjackwalten.com/poker ....again?

This update to /poker happened maybe an hour or less after the previous one.

the Grinch quote has been changed to read "oops!", and the painting has been replaced with this darkened, almost pitch-black version. If you use some photo editing software to brighten the image, you get:

Oops indeed.

#the walten files #ok i finally.wrote the post sorry i took way too long with this

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

Text

Surviving is Not Child's Play

Terrifying Tuesday, October 10, 2023

Fic-tober Masterlist

Summary: You and Dalton continue your game of "Can Josh Lambert survive horror movies?"

Warnings: fluff, spoilers for Child's Play (1988), brief description of an anxiety attack (Dalton), comfort, Josh slander?. 1.3k+ words

A/N: Terrifying Tuesdays are connected, so while this can be read as a standalone, I recommend reading "Surviving The Conjuring" first. Next week's will pick up where this leaves off. Hope you enjoy! :)

“What are we doing tonight?” Chris asks as she barges into your room.

“Dalton and I are going to Terrifying Tuesday. You can come if you want,” you answer, used to her lack of knocking and inviting herself in.

“Wait, isn’t Terrifying Tuesday the horror movie thing in the park?”

“Yep. We went to The Conjuring last week and he wanted to go with me this week too.”

Chris stares at you with a questioning look.

“What? I invited you last week, you said you were busy.”

“Dolphin Lambert is going to see, not just a horror movie, but another horror movie?”

“Yep. I didn’t think he’d like it, but he actually seemed to have a pretty good time. At least once we started talking about whether or not his dad could survive the events of the movie.”

Chris looks to the side for a second before laughing. “The Conjuring? Patrick Wilson looks like his dad.”

“Thank you!” you exclaim, glad someone else sees it.

“What did you decide? Because there is no way Josh would believe the house was haunted or whatever.”

“Oh, completely,” you agree as you gather your things. “It took him a while, but Dalton finally agreed; said his dad would be skeptical but would survive. I’m firm in my opinion that he’s not surviving tonight’s movie though.”

“Yeah, you still haven’t told me what it is,” Dalton says as he enters your room and pulls you into a side hug.

“Child’s Play,” you say, smiling at Chris.

“Oh, Josh is dead the minute that doll shows up,” Chris proclaims. “Dolls,” she adds quietly, shuddering.

“That’s Chucky, right?” Dalton asks. You nod at him, and he shakes his head before saying, “My dad could survive. He wouldn’t get near that thing.”

“That’s the thing, Dolphin,” Chris whispers.

“You don’t have to,” you say along with Chris.

You feel terrible trying to scare him but need him to know you’re right. No matter what he thinks Josh would or would not do, he would not survive.

“We’re leaving, Chris. See you later,” you say as you let Dalton lead you outside.

Dalton slips his hands into yours, interlacing your fingers as you walk. His thumb rubs circles on the back of your hand, and you struggle to listen to him talk about his art assignment.

“Is this scarier than last week?” Dalton asks as you settle in the same area.

“Honestly, it depends entirely on how you feel about homicidal dolls.”

“That’s not helpful,” Dalton says severely, tugging your hand into his lap. “You’re supposed to say, ‘No, Dalton, this movie isn’t scary at all. We’ll be fine.’”

You furrow your brows and poke his chest as you say, “My voice isn’t that high.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes, Dalton,” you say, “we will be fine. Same as last week, if you want to leave, we can, and if you want to play with my hand or hair or anything, do it. This game is only fun when you’re comfortable.”

Dalton nods and shifts his focus to your hand, drawing intricate shapes on your palm as the crowd grows and the park lights dim.

‣‣

“Happy Birthday again, Andy,” Karen says onscreen, pulling the gift-wrapped package from the brown paper bag.

“Wow—” Andy begins before racing into the living room. He tears off the paper, revealing Chucky’s face smiling up at them through the cellophane top of the box. Andy’s face lights up as he exclaims, “A Play Pal. I knew it, I knew you’d get me one!”

As you did last week, you lean over and whisper, “Dead.”

Dalton shakes his head and continues his artistic ministrations up your arm. You suppress a shiver at the feel of his fingers on your bare skin and focus on the movie.

‣‣

Maggie steps into the kitchen, flipping on the light. A sugar bowl lies broken on the floor, the white powder spread across the linoleum.

She looks at it, mumbling, “How did that happen?”

The wall phone suddenly rings behind her, startling her. She whirls, grabbing it.

As Maggie talks to Karen, you look over at Dalton. He knows what you’re about to say and speaks first.

“My dad wouldn’t be in this situation.”

You roll your eyes and watch as Maggie is hit with the rolling pin and falls through the window.

“Your argument is invalid,” you whisper when Dalton pulls your arm closer.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles thoughtlessly, pushing your sleeve out of the way to finish the artwork only he can see.

Dalton has barely looked at the screen, far more interested in the invisible painting he is doing on your arm. You’re not sure he’s paying attention to the movie, but as long as he seems content, you don’t care.

‣‣

Andy leaps off the windowsill of the cell, looking around desperately for some way to save himself. He upends the table, shoving it against the window and pushing the chair against the table to block the window. Chucky climbs onto the ledge outside Andy’s window to find himself facing the table. His face turns purple with rage.

Dalton’s fingers slow on your arm, and he inches closer to you as Chucky sticks his hand through the window before leaving.

“He’s here, doctor, Chucky’s here!” Andy cries.

The doctor stares through the port. He sees nothing but an empty room with all the furniture piled up against the window and Andy inside.

“I don’t see anybody,” the doctor states.

“But he’s here. Chucky’s here and he’s going to kill me!” Andy explains frantically.

The doctor tells an orderly to sedate Andy and continues walking down the hall. Andy stands on his chair, watching the doctor walk away with tears in his eyes.

“No, don’t leave me, please, don’t leave!” Andy yells, crying.

Dalton’s chest is pressed against your shoulder, and you feel his short breaths and racing heartbeat. Looking over quickly, you see his eyes bouncing between you and the screen.

“Dalton, what’s going on?” you ask quietly, turning to face him.

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers lowly.

You raise your hands to cup his face and smile reassuringly.

“Dalton, listen to me, I’m not going anywhere. This is just a movie, okay? Andy is fine and you are fine. I am never ever leaving you, Dalton. You’re stuck with me.”

Dalton nods slowly, leaning his face into your hands where you hold him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hand.

“Don’t apologize,” you say. “Do you want to leave?”

Dalton shakes his head, so you drop your hands and sit beside him, wrapping your arms around him. His fingers return to your palm, tracing what you think is a heart.

‣‣

As Chucky meets his demise, Dalton’s attention is stuck on you. The park lights turn on, and Dalton stands first, pulling you to your feet.

“What’d you draw?” you ask, pointing to your arm.

Dalton shrugs. “Just random stuff: shapes, feelings.”

“Artistic,” you tease.

“I know you’re about to ask. My dad would survive because he would never buy one of us a Play Pal.”

“Not even Kali?” you ask, wondering if he said that because it’s a doll or he doesn’t like buying toys.

“Not the point,” Dalton says, answering your question: he would buy it for Kali because it’s a doll.

“It is the point!” you argue as his arm wraps around your shoulders. “Besides, Andy’s mom bought it for him. So, let’s pretend that Renai bought you a Play Pal and it turned murderous. Would your dad believe you or get killed?”

Dalton sighs and says, “Get killed.”

Dalton knows his dad can survive at least one more of the Terrifying Tuesday horror movies. He tells you as much, and you laugh, leaning into him.

“Next week isn’t a movie, it’s a series marathon. And he’d die before it started; no way Josh Lambert survives the apocalypse.”

“You have no faith in my dad,” Dalton says, pulling you closer.

“Do you?”

“I lose more every time I let you talk to me.”

#fluentmoviequoterfictober23 #dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert fluff #dalton lambert fic #dalton lambert imagine #dalton lambert #insidious #insidious the red door #fem!reader

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