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babygorewhore · 4 months

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Daddy issues

After your dad is arrested, you try and beg for his job back. But Rafe Cameron decides another way for you to help your father. And his arrangement is different than you imagine.

Warnings! Daddy kink! Talks of violence! Slight reference to abuse! Choking! Blow job! Rough unprotected sex! Breeding kink! Virginity loss! Dirty talk!

You didnt know if you were more angry or surprised when you got the call from the officer that your dad was arrested and currently in jail for assault. You were finished working your late shift at the restaurant when your phone rang.

You screamed in your car on the way to the station. Your dad was a dead beat. An asshole who didn’t know how to fucking control his temper. Daddy dearest also liked to get loud with you, throw things when he didn’t get his way and one time he slapped you in the face.

You slapped him back and threatened to slash his tires. But the threat was empty considering he needed to work, which you had no idea how he kept his job at the docks while working for Rafe Cameron. It used to be his father Ward until his suicide. You’d met him often while picking your dad up, given you had to share a car.

He was…polite you could say. But he was also scary. He glared at everyone and he was short tempered. You usually heard him snapping or yelling if something wasn’t done right. Your dad complained about how strict he was.

But his status and wealth made everyone obey him and intimidated you. His attractiveness however was on another level. His height made you feel small and his blue eyes cut through people.

You slammed the door at the station and went to the desk. After signing in, you tapped your foot impatiently as an officer came up to you.

“Are you…?”

“My dad is here. He just got arrested.” You ground out. You hated being here. She nodded and looked at paperwork in front of her.

“Are you here to post bail?”

“I’m here to see if there’s any way we can clear this up as a misunderstanding.” You tried to plead but she shook her head.

“Ma’am, he attacked a man at a stoplight. He beat him up to the point he lost one of his teeth.”

You pressed your head against your hand. Jesus Christ it was worse than you thought. “How much is bail?”

She looked again at the paperwork. “Looks like we’re at 6,000 dollars.”

“What? I thought the bail was lower than that!” You shrieked.

“Ma’am. He also had multiple charges. Public intoxication, disturbance and assault. He caused a lot of trouble. I suggest you alert his job tomorrow. But until then, he’s going to spend at least 60 days in jail.”

You started crying. You couldn’t help it. It hurt so much. You couldn’t get a break. And now you’d have to face Rafe Cameron and face the humiliation of your dad being in jail.

You cried on and off the next day as you had to switch your schedule to the evening and make the phone call to your dads manager about his current situation. It was immediate termination and you broke down even harder in your bedroom. You refused to take his phone call, afraid you’d explode on him.

As you got ready for another dreaded work shift, your phone started ringing to a number you didn’t recognize. Hesitantly, you answered.

“Hello?”

“Your dads in jail, huh?” You immediately froze. It was Rafe’s voice. How did he-well he was capable of finding anything out.

“I-um. Yes. And he can’t work for you anymore. But if you’ll please reconsider. I know he’s a piece of shit but this is the only job he’s lasted out and we desperately need the money. I’m trying to get a car and we have to share one. I know this is probably pointless but I can’t help but try. So please, please take him back.” More tears came and you felt like a total cry baby but you pushed through.

You expected him to laugh but instead silence met you.

You bit your lip hard enough it bled.

“Meet me at my house. I’ll text you the address. I have a proposition for you.”

“Why can’t you tell me over the phone?” Your stomach tightened.

“Do you want me to help you or not?”

“Yes. Of course. I’ll be there.”

“Good girl.”

You set the phone down but seconds later his address came through in a text and your breath stopped short. He wanted to see you after work.

Five minutes before closing and after you finished cleaning, the drive to Rafe’s house wasn’t that far and now you knocked on his door. When he answered, you tried not to reveal how much you found him attractive. His hair was in his face and his eyes were glazed as he looked down at you. His fingers twitched and you imagined what he was doing with that hand…

Rafe gestured with his head for you to come in and you followed him inside the massive penthouse. He had everything you imagined. Expensive furniture, floors and lights.

You followed him to the kitchen where he pointed to the bar stool. “Have a seat.” He muttered.

You obeyed and watched as he circled the island in the center of the room. “So. You wanna save your dads job?”

“Yes. I’m willing to do anything-“ You stopped short when a smirk fell on his face.

“Anything?” Rafe challenged. “It looked like you hated him whenever I saw you talk to him.”

“It’s complicated.” You replied and his smirk grew into a cruel smile.

“Looks like someone has daddy issues.” Rafe countered and you crossed your arms.

“I-well when you put it that way-“

“I’m just bringing up what you’re telling me. Your dad beats the shit out of someone. He went to jail-and now you’re doing anything you can to fix it. Tell me if I missed anything.” Rafe’s voice was low and you hated that he was right.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound pushy. I’m just in a tight spot.”

“Oh I’m sure you’re in a…tight spot.” His meaning was clear and you swallowed.

That was the exchange.

“Look at you. Being a little smart girl and figuring it out. I’m gonna get to the point. You want me to take him back? Bail him out? I get to fuck you. Anywhere. Anytime. And anyplace I want. No condoms. No hidden birth control. No. I wanna see my cum leak out of that desperate pussy.”

Your mouth opened and closed. “I can’t just fuck a stranger. And no birth control? I can’t fucking get pregnant.”

“I’m a selfish whore, baby. And I can afford one. And those are my terms. Either that. Or your dad rots.”

You bit your lip. You weren’t in a position to say no. You needed the money. And Rafe was hot. There were worse guys. Rafe got closer, his big hands reaching to cup the side of your neck.

“Yeah? You want it?”

Slowly, you nodded.

Rafe crooked a finger, signaling you to come closer. You stepped down and approached him gingerly and looked into his gaze. Rafe then latched his hand around your throat. His grip was so strong your feet almost lifted in the air and your eyes widened as he crushed his lips to yours.

His lips devoured you as he shoved his tongue into your mouth. You weren’t experienced. Sure, you’d touched yourself and made out with people.

But actual fucking? You’d never done that. And you knew that was about to change.

“You want me to take care of you, don’t you?” Rafe loosened his hold on your neck and pressed you against the island counter, “need someone to be your daddy?”

Your hands flew to his chest as you brought him impossibly closer, his lips sucked your skin with bruising force. You opened your mouth as he slipped his fingers inside.

“Suck.” He commanded and you listened. Spit gathering on your lips as he kneed your legs apart and lifted you up on the counter.

“Need daddy to help you? Fill you up with my cum?” His dirty words made your cunt twitch as he started toying the end of your skirt. Your thighs dampened as he trailed his thick fingers along your flesh, his fingers grazing the wet patch of your underwear.

You started grinding to give any friction against your arousal as he apparently changed his mind and threw you to the ground by underneath your arms. Rafe gestured to the crotch of his pants. “Consider this your first payment, baby. You ever done this before?”

You shakily remained silent as he huffed an amused laugh.

“Really? A girl who’s such a perv that she’s willing to fuck someone giving her money? Never would have guessed. I guess I’ll be nice and help you.”

Rafe undressed his lower half, his cock leaked with precum and he took your hand. “Swipe it with your thumb, get it all wet.�� His massive hand compared to yours was almost comical as he grabbed the back of your head.

“Open your mouth, princess. And remember to breathe through your nose.”

After that, he silenced whatever worries you had by shoving his dick forward. You run your tongue along the thick underside, lessening some of the heavy weight by massaging with your hand. You took the tip through your mouth, shoving down any nerves as you sucked. Rafe bobbed your head up and down as he pushed you further, your head bouncing as your eyes squeezed shut.

“No, no, open your slutty eyes and look at me.” He growled. He leaned over the arch of the space between the counter and where you sank on your knees. The skin of his cock was supple as you continued aiding with your hand. It was hot to the touch.

“Good fucking girl. Maybe I’ll reward you by fucking your pussy.” He started thrusting and hitting the back of your throat. “Breathe. Breathe through your nose.” He wiped a few tears away with his thumb as you listened to him.

You knew he was getting closer as he stopped talking, his breathing heavier as he moved your head. His cum spilled inside your mouth, as he released you and you coughed.

“Not bad for your first time. We’re gonna practice some more.” Rafe smirked as his face was flushed and his fist flexed.

He moved on top of you on the floor, hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties. He spread apart your wet cunt and dipped his middle finger inside your clenching entrance. “You’re such a whore. Never done any of this and you’re already gonna cum. Should have known you’d be daddy’s cum slut.”

Rafe yanked your legs apart, and spit on your pussy. “Not that it needed it, but I’m gonna be a little more kind to you.” You shrieked as he grabbed your jaw.

“Are you on birth control?”

“No.” You quickly answered. “Never-never needed-“

“Good. And you’re not going to. Got it?” Rafe moaned as he pushed his tip in your pussy, “fuck you’re so tight.”

You winced from discomfort but then his knuckles hit your clit, aiding to relieve your tension as he circled them. “Gonna make you mine. Take you away from all that shit.” He grunted as he pushed further.

Rafe let you wrap your arms around his neck as he thrusted.

“Tell daddy you like it.”

“I like it.” You sobbed as he moved harder. “I like it, daddy.”

It was slightly shameful how quickly you came all over him and spilled onto your legs. Rafe also came again and you felt it inside you. He was serious about no protection.

He stayed for a few seconds before getting up. And pulling his pants back on. He extended his hand and pulled you up. You knew you were a sight to be seen, fucked out eyes and messy hair. You just lost your virginity to Rafe Cameron.

You cleared your throat and watched him sweep his eyes over your face. “So. My dad?”

He shrugged. “He’s already out.”

You paled. “What?”

“I posted bail a few minutes before you got here. But as for his job, you’re gonna have to work harder than that. I have conditions.”

“But I already said-“

“More than just fucking you, baby girl. I own you now. You are mine and no one gets to even think about fucking you. I will cross any line you make to keep me away. And if you try, I will punish you.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” You whimpered as he loomed over you.

“And?” He mocked. “You already agreed. You need me. Don’t you?” He cupped your jaw. Tightly but not as harsh.

“Yeah.” You leaned in to his touch. Your defenses are completely down. You needed care. You were always working. Always cleaning up after someone’s mess. And now…he was going to take care of you.

And either make your daddy issues better.

Or worse.

@xxhellfirebunnyxx @imyourdaninow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @slvt4jamesmarch @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @scene-and-dandylover @emsgoodthinkin

#rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe x you #rafe obx #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x female reader #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron series #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic

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reallyromealone · 1 month

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Rindou Haitani A/B/O where reader is pregnant with Rindou's child?

Bonten x reader A/B/O but I don't really have an idea for this one 😔

Title: Surprise! You're a dad!

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Pairing: Rindō Haitani x reader

Warning: Omegaverse, mpreg, male reader, angstish, reader is done, fluff, ran is ready to be an UNCLE, Rindō is a bit of a dick

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(name) sighed as he went to the grocery store, a deep craving for salad and apples, fatty foods making him absolutely nauseous. Six months pregnant and exhausted, (name) did his best to make sure that his pup had everything needed for his birth, working full time at his job at a convenience store at the night shift, the pay better than day shift plus a part time job with at home accounting, something he did at the convenience store as there weren't any customers that late, the occasional person buying cigarettes.

It wasn't easy, (name) stressed to raise a pup alone but sadly didn't realize he was pregnant till it was too late to decide and only at 19, the father was someone he didn't bother looking for as he was not someone (name) believed he could rely on to be a parent, the man was a criminal be met at a party after all.

(Name) Was completely lost in his thoughts, wandering the store as he collected the veggies he craved and a few crunchy treats, unaware of those around him.

"Whoa, watch out now~" a voice said cooly as (name) looked up to see a very tall alpha with lavender eyes and a coy smile who looked at the adorable Omega with the round belly "should be careful, dangerous to not watch yourself" the Alpha looked familiar but (name) couldn't name where he seen him before, dressed in fancy clothes that were definitely designer.

(Name) Nodded and continued his journey to eat his veggies, his back hurting slightly as his pup kicked excitedly "yes yes, I know" he whispered as he glanced down at his stomach, lightly shoulder checking someone "you lookin' to d--holy shit" (name) recognized the voicr as he glanced to see the reason why he thought the tall one looked familiar "beans" (name) whispered to himself as he looked at the one night stand he was currently carrying the child of. Ran showed up, poking his head from behind as he looked at the two, glancing at their faces before looking at (name)s mark on his neck and then Rindōs and then it clicked "I suppose I'm going to be an uncle" he chuckled as he offered his hand to (name) "Ran Haitani, I suppose I'm your brother in law!"

"But I suppose it would be better if we went somewhere private, yes?" Ran said to his stunned brother as (name) sighed and walked to checkout to pay for his veggies, going into his side bag to grab his debit card when a tap could be heard as Rindō paid for it with an annoyed expression and (name) looked at him miffed "I can pay for myself" he grumbled, he just wanted to go home and watch his shows, not deal with with this.

But there he was in a diner, sipping his (non caffeinated drink) as the brothers sat before him "so you want child support or some shit?" Rindō said bluntly and (name) glared "if I wanted that shit, do you think I wouldn't have gone looking for you sooner?" (Name) Barked back and Ran laughed at the two "so why'd ya keep it?" Ran asked simply, the two brothers weren't exactly struggling for money after all "...I didn't realize I was pregnant till it was too late" (name) said softly "it's harder to know if your pregnant as a male Omega, we don't have periods so if we don't show symptoms we won't know" his voice trembled as he held his stomach and felt the kicks.

"You don't have to worry, we are fine... I have things handled" (name) didn't need his hand outs or anything like that, he was a big boy after all. "You're parents supporting you or something?" Ran asked, the Omega was awful young, Rindō mentioning the person who claimed him was 19 or something "my... My family isn't in the picture anymore... I had to drop out of university because of this... So they kicked me out" that was still a sore subject for (name), thankfully his grandmother helped him get settled into an apartment, she was across the country but still helped none the less.

"But I have things handled! It's fine!" (Name) Said seriously, as if he was trying to convince himself that it was actually as he said but the brothers didn't seem convinced "I have a job, I have a place and I have a space set up for my pup" he said seriously and looked at Rindō "don't worry, you won't have to be inconvenienced with child support because I don't need it"

"Do you know the gender of my little niece of nephew?" Ran asked, disregarding his brother completely as he looked at the bump curiously, he was definitely excited to be in the pups life as Rindō glared at his brother "how do we know it's mine?" Rindō wasn't about to go thinking he's a father if the kid wasn't his after all "Rindō, before we had sex I was a virgin" (name) said simply as he looked at him "do you think I would want to willingly put a target on my kids back because it would be so great to get knocked up by a gangster?!" He whispered the last bit as he glared at Rindō "it doesn't even matter! You're clearly not interested in being in my daughter's life and frankly I don't need you! Now I'm going to go home, goodbye Rindō Haitani" (name) said coldly and took his groceries before promptly leaving.

It was a few seconds before Ran looked at his brother "you wanna follow him don't you?" He said smugly and Rindō grumbled "I gotta make sure he doesn't die or some shit"

Ran cackled as they left the diner to look for the angry waddling pregnant Omega, spotting him turn a corner and the two booked it to trail him, people getting out of their way as they followed him.

A tiny house in a forgotten spot of Roppongi, old houses going form incredibly cheap these days and with the supposed help of his grandmother it would make sense he would have this.

(Name) Sighed as he walked inside his house, a labor of love that he's been putting in and making it perfect for his pup, many things thrifted and found cheap and with the monthly cheques from his grandmother helping immensely with this, soon he won't need those cheques but for now he will take what he can get.

What he didn't know was two alphas were currently getting his address down on their phones, despite Rindō being an ass, he wasn't about to let the dam to his children be living in such a shit box in his eyes.

And ran was ordering baby gifts and Omega gifts, having the time of his life.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #rindō haitani #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 1 month

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Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader

Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕

TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror

PT.2

Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.

He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.

"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.

"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.

As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.

"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.

"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.

The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.

"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.

His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?

"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."

"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.

"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."

Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.

"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒⋏ ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.

"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.

His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.

"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.

You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.

"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.

"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."

Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.

"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.

"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.

"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.

Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.

"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.

You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.

"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.

Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.

"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.

His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.

"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.

"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.

"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.

Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.

#yandere superhero #yandere alien #yandere x reader #f! reader #yandere dubcon #yandere teratophilia #villain! reader #sanyuthewitch05 #yandere smut

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sturniozo · 4 months

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In The Shadows II

masterlist

“But why do you have to leave the country?” My boyfriend, Luke asks. He’s been my boyfriend for two years. I haven’t told him about what I do, how could I?

“I told you, it’s a work thing.” I say as I continue to pack my suitcase.

“What does a planner at a stock company need to do in Switzerland?” Luke sits in the bed next to my suitcase.

“It’s not really something I can discuss.” I put the last few things in my suitcase.

“You’re not doing something illegal, are you?” Luke asks as he looks me in the eyes.

I take a breath. “No, of course not.” I say as I close my suitcase.

“You don’t tell me anything!” He groans and lays on the bed.

“You’re acting like a child.” I set the suitcase down on the floor.

“Why Switzerland? Why so far? How long will you be gone?”

“It’s for an important client, and it might be a while.”

“Give me your best guess.”

“Three months?” I shrug. That’s the average amount of time it takes for something like this.

“What kind of stock has clients that need you to go across the world for them for three months?” Luke asks, starting to raise his voice.

“It’s not something I can discuss, Luke.” I sit down next to him on the bed.

“What about me? How am I gonna live?”

“It’s not like my bank account goes with me. You can still use your card to my account.” Luke has no job. He got fired from his job at a computer store for playing video games on the new ministers instead of doing his job. It’s been 16 months since he was fired. It’s the main reason he moved in with me, since he lost his apartment. Now I solely take care of everything while he plays video games all day.

Not that I mind, I make more than enough for the both of us. Although, he doesn’t exactly know that. He thinks I make a regular salary, because that’s what I put into the bank account I created just to get him off my back about having a card for my bank account. Every two weeks I add a regular amount to the account to make him think I got paid.

At first I thought it was a mistake. Every time I “got paid” he’d spend all the money on something stupid. It didn’t actually matter, but I had to make him think it did or else he’d get suspicious about what I really do for a living.

“Yeah but isn’t there inflation difference between America and Switzerland? What if you spend all the money on a coffee or something and I’m left broke?” Luke asks.

I sigh. “It’s all paid for by the client, you don’t have to worry about that.”

A private jet. I stare at the plane as the worker load suitcases and boxes of items onto the plane. I don’t even know what’s in the boxes, just things my father decided I needed for my cover.

I look through the folder my father gave me, exposing my contract and my cover. I’m to pose as a newlywed woman with my husband, Matt. I roll my eyes just at the thought.

My dad bought a house in Switzerland under our fake identities, so the things in the boxes must be what we’re moving into the house. Our cover is art. We need to go to Finley Wilson for art to decorate our new home with. We need to befriend him, and find who he’s closest to, who he loves the most, and report back to dad.

I put the folder back into my purse and board the plane. Matt’s already there, drinking the scotch, I didn’t expect any different. I set my purse down in a seat and sit down.

“How was the drive?” Matt asks while pouring another glass of scotch. He hands it to me and I only set it to the side, ignoring it completely.

“We’re only fake married, I’d prefer it if we didn’t talk outside of what we have to keep our cover, thank you.” I pull out the folder to read up on Finley Wilson.

“The best assassins keep up their cover even in private.” Matt says before taking a drink of his scotch.

“We haven’t even officially started our cover, so I don’t need to speak to you at all. As far as I’m concerned, until we leave American soil, we’re still just y/n l/n and Matthew Sturniolo.”

Matt stays silent for a moment. He shifts in his seat and looks over at me. “You’re very interested in the case file.” He says, breaking the silence.

“The best assassins study up on their cover and their hit before going in.” I say without looking up from the file.

Matt rolls his eyes. “It’s a long flight, we should go over the specifics of our relationship.”

“We’re a newlywed couple, just bought a house in Switzerland and we were looking to decorate it with art when we heard about Mr. Wilson’s collection.”

“Yeah, but how did we meet? What made you fall for me?” Matt smirks and leans back in his seat.

“What’s not to fall for? The lack of empathy or the inevitable betrayal?” I glare at him for a moment before looking back at the file.

“Is this about Montana? Y/n, that was five years ago!”

“Oh, was it? And what’s your excuse for never calling? For never explaining? Maybe it was because you knew there was nothing to explain. You’re just an ass who only cares about himself.” I snap at him.

Matt closes his mouth and leans back in his seat. He twirls the scotch around in his glass before looking at mine, still full from when he poured it. “Still not a drinker, huh?” He asks with a light laugh.

“Nope.” I say sternly, still reading over the case file.

The sound of the intercom goes off and the pilot says “This is your pilot, captain Jones, telling you to prepare for take off in five minutes.”

Matt smiles at me. “Well, Mrs. Sturniolo.” He moves to the seat next to mine. “Let’s see our new home, shall we?”

“We haven’t left American soil yet, Matt.” I set down the file. “Besides, I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh you do? I thought you were scared of commitment. Who’s the lucky guy?” Matt asks with a laugh.

“You’ve met him, actually.”

“I have?” Matt looks at me confused before it dawns on him. “Oh, god. Don’t tell me it’s Luke Pelton.”

“What’s wrong with Luke?” I ask.

“He’s a fucking moocher. He got fired from what, two jobs before the computer store job he had when I knew him. Does he even still have that job?”

“Well, no-“

“Jesus, how many jobs has he had since then?” Matt laughs.

“None, he lives with me and I got everything.” I shrug.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously, and what’s wrong with that? For years women did the housework while men were the breadwinners, I don’t see anything wrong with the roles being reversed.”

“Does he do the housework, though? Because that would be a surprise!” Matt laughs again.

I roll my eyes and look out the window, clenching my jaw to keep quiet. He’s right, Luke doesn’t do the housework. He doesn’t do anything. But I don’t mind it.

“What does he think you do anyway?” Matt asks while taking a drink of his scotch.

“He thinks I’m a planner is stocks.” I shrug.

“And he’s dumb enough to believe that? Where did you say you were going?”

“Switzerland.”

Matt’s jaw drops. “You told him the truth?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I didn’t tell him what I was really doing.”

“And if someone wanted information out of him?”

I laugh. “It’s fine.”

“I suppose you’re right. Anyone who does any research on that man will figure out that he’s got a pea brain.”

I throw the scotch glass Matt had given me at him and it breaks against the wall. “Hey!” Matt yells. “That’s $8k scotch!”

“Don’t fucking talk about Luke like that.” I spit at Matt.

He raises his hands in surrender and sits back in his seat. The plane starts moving and Matt just smirks at me. “Now, now you’re Mrs. Sturniolo.”

TAGS: @sturniolopookie @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @cheesesoda @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer

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bonbonchocolates · 5 months

Text

Clown

Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Summary: When the past comes back.....

Warnings: yandere jungkook, stalking, mentions of death (of minor characters), obsessive behaviour

A/N: Again originally from my Wattpad account. I hope you like it and if you did please leave a like.

Masterlist

___________________________________________

"Kookie"

A nine year old ran towards her best friend and engulfed him into a hug. Her friend hugged her back with a smile on her face.

"Doll, I wanted to tell you something."

These words of the boy grabbed the girls attention. She looked up towards her friend with eyes filled with curiosity. The boy was almost a feet taller than her since he was older than her.

"I like you very much doll. I thought rich people were arrogant and selfish but it all changed when I met you. Doll, will stay with me forever? Will you be my wife in the future?"

The girl didn't take a single word of the boy seriously. She was too small and dumb to understand what he meant.

"Kook-"

Before the girl could speak further her mother grabbed her and pulled her away from the boy. She then slapped the boy which made the boy's face turn to the side.

"How dare you touch my daughter? You low class peasant, stay at your limits. Don't forget that your father is a clown in a circus and your mother is a maid at our house. How can you even think that my daughter will ever marry you?"

The little girl stared at her mother, confusion was written all over her face. She than turn towards her friend and found that his eyes were filled with tears. She felt a pang in her heart. She tried to escape her mother's hold and run towards her friend and hug him but her mother tightened her hold on her arm.

"I'll fire your mother from her work and you, don't ever show your face to my daughter ever again."

With that she dragged her daughter with her. The boy just stared at both of them. Unknowingly a drop of tear escaped his eyes. He felt humiliated and didn't want to stay there any longer. So he ran away from there and promised to never return back ever again.

____________________________________________

"Mom please don't leave me."

A thirteen year old boy cried holding his death mother's hand with his. His mother committed suicide because she was humiliated and fired from her job. The boy tried to call his father but he didn't pick up the call.

This evening after he came back home he found his mother dead, lying in her own pool of blood. A blade lay beside her dead body. His heart broke when he saw his mother in such a condition. He refused to believe his mother is no longer with him and kept calling his mother in hope that she might listen to him and wake up.

He even tried calling his dad but he didn't pick up the call. He knew the reason why his mother committed suicide. His mother was the only earner in their house. His father spent all his money on alcohol. After his mother lost her job now no one was there to earn and she couldn't handle the shock and took such a big step.

After a few minutes of crying he finally stopped. Now his eyes were filled with the desire of revenge instead of tears. He decided that he will take his revenge from the ones who are responsible for his mother's death. He then started to laugh like a crazy person.

____________________________________________

8 years later:

"Y/Niee did you hear about the murder in the circus?"

Your friend asked you and you nodded your head. How could you not know about it? Right now it was the hot topic of your town. You lived in a small town and it was quite peaceful here until day before yesterday. A clown was murdered brutally in the circus. Even his face could not be identified.

"Yes I know"

"We need to be careful Y/Niee, what if the killer comes after us next?"

"Why will the killer even come after us?"

You asked, at your friend's silly question. Why will the killer come after you? He is not a serial killer right? Maybe he had an enemity with the clown. You never harmed a single insect in your life so why will a killer be after you?

"I know but we never know."

You just shrugged off her words and continued eating.

____________________________________________

Later that evening you were coming back home after your outing with your friends. The street was empty and there were only few cars in the road. You were walking when a orange coloured balloon came towards you and hit you on your face.

You were about to let it go when you noticed something was written in the balloon. You grabbed the string and found that there was a 'Miss Me?' written in the balloon with red ink. You just ignored it and let the balloon go.

You usually took the alley to reach your home because it was a shortcut but today you decided to go from the main road. You looked at the dark alley and it gave you goosebumps so you thought it was better to take the long way today.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

I was secretly keeping my eyes on my doll to make sure nothing happens to her. Though I hate her parents but I cannot hate her because I love her too much. Last time when I saw her she was only nine years old and look at her now all grown woman.

I blew the balloon I was holding towards her. My heart jumped a bit when she grabbed the balloon and read what I had specially written for her. My heart dropped when she ignored and continued walking towards her home.

Suddenly my eyes fell on someone behind her, it was a boy probably my age. At first it all looked normal but then I saw the but kept following her. Now I understood his motives. My doll had no idea about it. I clenched my fist in anger .

How did he look at my doll that way? No one is allowed to look at what's mine. Don't worry doll I will get rid of him.

____________________________________________

"Y/Niee did you he-"

"Yes I heard."

Another murder in your town and this time it was a college boy. He was murdered in the same way as the clown. So people assumed it was the same killer. The most shocking thing was that the boy's dead body was found in the same alley through which you would take a short cut to your house. Even the time of the murder was estimated to be in the same time when you were on your way home.

You thanked God that you did not take the alley or you might be in place of the boy right now. You decided to never take that alley ever again and never to head home late at night.

____________________________________________

Time Skip:

A month passed and now your peaceful town turned dreadful. Everyday there was a murder and still now the police were not able to catch hold of the killer. Though they were sure of the thing that all the murders were linked to each other. The police also suggested that a clown was the killer because a clown was spotted in the cctv cameras where the murders took place but still they were not able to catch him.

First the people who were murdered were totally unknown to you but recently a lot of people murdered were known to you. For example the bullys of your school who used to often bully you, the maid who steal your money and that creepy man who followed you a few months ago. Oh you forgot one the math teacher of your school who looked at you badly.

You were quite scared to get out of your house nowadays. Your parents were out on a business trip and you had to stay in the big mansion of yours all alone. You were totally freaked out.

____________________________________________

Unknown POV:

Finally I got rid of my doll's parents, they were the reason why I lost my mother. Now I got my revenge. I know if my doll gets to know about her parents death she will break down. But no worries she has me.

No one can come between me and my doll now. She is finally mine. Be ready doll I am coming for you.

____________________________________________

It was quite late night and your parents are still not home. You are getting worried for them. They promised to come back home by today morning but they were still not home yet.

You thought of all the possibilities of the killer- no you should think positive. Nothing will happen to your parents. You tried calling your parents once again but this time it was switched off. Before you tried calling them and they were not picking up the call and it was switched off.

Suddenly you saw a pink coloured balloon coming towards you. You grabbed it and saw it there was a 'Miss Me?' written with red ink on it just like the balloon you found that day. Just then another white coloured balloon came towards you.

This time 'Doll' was written in it. After that a bunch of balloon came towards you. Some had 'Miss Me?' and others had 'Doll' written on them. You were completely freaked out by now.

You couldn't understand from where all these balloons were coming from. You were sure you locked all the doors and windows of your mansion or maybe you forgot.

Doll- why does the nickname sound so familiar to you? It feels like someone used to call you with this nickname but who? Wait- Kookie

"Miss me, Doll?"

____________________________________________

#yandere #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook

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lemmetreatya · 11 months

Text

Change and Her Consorts — Miguel x Fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: 13 Minutes. 13 minutes was all it took for Miguel to (metaphorically) loose everything. Getting back onto his feet wasn’t easy, especially when life was changing and all he felt was stuck. But once you come back into his life, Witty, Hot and everything in between, Miguel wonders that maybe it was the change in others he needed to witness first before he could even consider making change for himself.

WORD COUNT: 5.6k+

CONTENT: modern au, childhood friends, afab reader, mature themes of death, grief, mental health issues, slightly angsty, hurt/comfort, is it a comedy? it’s a comedy, fluff, smut, sex, male penetration, mating press, blowjob, protected sex, nice ending i promise!!, i wouldn’t say reader is oc but she has a character for definite, also miguel is very??? difficult in this and his character can also be classed as ooc but its modern au and he’s been through it so bare with

Miguel knew he had to change.

Ever since he lost both his wife and kid to childbirth, it’d been so hard to piece things together again.

It’s honestly all bullshit. Finally thinking things were going good for him just for life to chew him up and spit him out like a fleshy plum seed all within the space of 13 minutes felt dehumanising to say the least. It left him fist fighting Depression, backing liquor shots of Sorrow and occasionally sharing a bed with Anxiety. That would fuck anyone up mentally and emotionally — And it did that to Miguel for a long time. He’s just grateful he had a good enough support system to crutch him through to the other side.

He sold the house he brought with his late wife and moved back in with his parents around eight months ago. That was a whole thing in itself. Left his job and hasn’t worked full-time since. He had a whole phase where he ‘no longer had anything to work for’ and therefore just…didn’t.

His parents were nice about it for a bit. Said he always had a home under their roof and that he could use the money he got from the insurance payout and house to cruise by while he healed. But then after about 3 months of Miguel taking the absolute piss with being unemployed, heartbroken, undriven and essentially a‘bum’ (Jessica Drew’s exact words), he found work in the local dairy produce factory as the ‘Payroll Guy’.

Despite none of this being his ideal picture of how life was supposed to look at this point of time, Miguel knew he had to change in order to survive. Having being so wrapped up within his own world, he knew that moving on in some capacity was his next step. Getting comfortable with the shell of a life he had now and the things he once knew were true would help with that.

The only issue is that Miguel forgot that others changed too.

An oof leaves Miguel’s mouth as his stomach is suddenly burdened with a paper sack to it. He looks down at his mother, more than a foot shorter than him, who’s passing him a bag of coals.

“I need this done.” She vaguely says.

“For the grill?”

Miguel asks it as an inquisitive question but he’s implying it more as disbelief that he’s been asked. His mother catches on and therefore explains her reasoning.

“I wouldn’t usually (‘ask you’, she implies but doesn’t say) but your fathers quickly gone to the shop and we need to start putting things on the grill. People will be arriving any minute now.” She dusts her hands before already moving elsewhere within the garden.

Miguel jogs the bag of coal in his arms and stagnantly turns his body in his mother’s direction; like a sunflower to the sun.

“Then I don’t have to do it?” He tried.

His mother gives him a quick look. It was sharp but she didn’t follow the intention through.

“I would like to start grilling things soon.” She stresses.

Miguel doesn’t reply right away since he’s been told he needs to think before he speaks. And so he thinks, hard, about what his mother was asking him and then answers accordingly to how he thinks he should.

“So I don’t have to put the coal in now?” He slowly enunciates.

“Ay, coño— Si! Si, Miguel! You have to put them in now, I’m telling you to put the charcoal in now! Vamos!”

Miguel lets out a haggard sigh.

He doesn’t like how he always get in trouble for these sort of things. He was bordering thirty and still had trouble depicting what his mother actually meant when she made implicit remarks.

The doorbell rings and so Miguel’s mother is shooting off back inside to open up for the guests, all not before giving Miguel certain The Nike Slogan eyes and a jabbing finger point towards the barbecue.

Begrudgingly, he gets a start on filling the bottom of the grill with sooty rocks.

As he’s detaching the rack, Miguel can hear high pitched welcoming and multiple voices towards the front of the house. He faintly hears someone ask for him, followed by his mother directing them towards the backyard where he was. At that, Miguel groans.

It’s not like he hated gatherings, but Miguel would definitely prefer a phone call or the occasional text message. Or just no communication at all.

But to his avail, he had no way of avoiding this. His parents were adamant to host a casual cookout of some sort and they knew he had nothing better to do so by default he had to be present. There wasn’t even a reason for the function. Just Something about opening up the home and having more laughter flow through it. Sounds cliche but Miguel didn’t care much for laughter anymore. Not that he never laughed — there were some humorously dark memes either Peter or Jess would send him that were subjectively funny and occasionally earned a breathy snort out of him. But it was no question that joy was definitely void in his life. It was hard to look forward to things and the days seemed to drag on and lack meaning.

No matter what way he looked at it, life was dull. There just wasn’t shit to be happy about.

“Miggy!”

Miguel perks up.

He recognises that voice anywhere.

He didn’t know you were coming but it definitely made sense for you to be here. His parents were making a bigger than usual deal out of this gathering so of course old faces would be present.

Miguel hears your voice call him by that juvenile nickname over and over again as you venture throughout the house. It’d been well over a decade since he last saw you but he knows both your parents keep in touch. Because of that, he doesn’t immediately turn around to address you once you enter the garden because he’s not expecting much and he’s still trying to evenly set up the coal rocks at the bottom of the grill.

“Miggy.” You say with perky tone.

The man’s sighing as he brings his head up, dusting his hands and wiping the apple of his cheek with the smudge of his palm.

“Till this day, what’d I tell you about calling…me...”

Miguel’s words are cut off short as soon as he turns to see you.

He opens and closes his mouth several time but nothing comes out. He’s adamant he looks so stupid right now but his shock is so genuine that he doesn’t blame himself for the reaction. Honestly, awestruck didn’t even cover half of what he was.

There you stood, in all your adulthood glory, a finer woman than he could have ever imagined you’d turn out to be.

Nothing about you was the same to how it was over a decade ago yet it was all so classically you. Or, whatever that meant. He’s not sure. If you’d given him creative direction over what he’d envisioned mid-20s you to look like, he definitely wouldn’t have come up with this.

Fuck, not like it matters what he thought. Why would anyone give him creative direction over anything? No, he’s not trying to say he wanted to control how you grew but he is saying whatever did, did a good job.

Oh, Miguel hates trying to justify things to himself. He knew what he wanted to say but he just didn’t know how to say it and it was pissing him off because this was all happening inside of his head and God, he probably looked crazy to you right now but he just couldn’t compute this change.

To put it plainly: You were hot now.

A soft tinkly chuckle leaves your throat as you notice the man’s frozen reaction.

“Hello to you too, Miguel. Everything okay out here?”

Miguel’s still freaking out mentally because man, even your laugh was the same but it was just so different and maturer and older and hot.

You amusingly side eye him, no longer calling him Miggy and cautious of his behaviour. You take a few steps round the back of him which ultimately puts you outside of his vision and peripheral. You end up on the opposite side, hands on your hips and face curious as you inspect the barbecue.

As soon as you’re out of his eyesight Miguel snaps out of the trance. His mind starts to catch him up to speed and he’s stuttering like crazy when he turns to you to try and explain himself.

“I—Ee—I…yeah. I…I’m setting up some rocks. For the grill. Not…Not just any rocks, like actual— actual charcoal, coal rocks that you…that you light barbecues with and…yeah.”

“I see.” Your tone is sarcastic, lightly teasing even, and Miguel has to curse himself for acting so lame.

He blinks at you a few times (Hot.) before casting his eyes back to the grill (Not hot. Yet). He occupies himself with the task.

“Of course. You know what coal is...” He mumbles the last bit to himself, a reminder that you weren’t an incompetent bristling teen anymore to whom he had to explain everything.

Miguel spends the majority of the barbecue in your company.

Not like he had much choice; you two were the only people around the same caliber. Everyone else was either middle aged, a couple, or a bustling child weaving between adult’s legs.

Chatting to each other wasn’t all that bad. You both nursed several bottled drinks between you and straddled garden chairs towards the bottom of the yard as you caught up with each other’s lives. Whilst he would have preferred hulling up in his room, having someone new to talk to as opposed to the same two people was rejuvenating.

Over the duration of your conversation, Miguel finds out that you’re a Data Analyst and it somehow makes him feel insecure about his crappy Payroll job. You however assure him that it was nothing to be ashamed of (“You’re a Finance Bro and I’m a Finance Girly. We go hand-in-hand!”). He also opens up about how he’s attending group therapy sessions — through which he met Peter and Jess. He also, speaks about Peter and Jess, but he quickly found out that apart from Peter and Jess, there wasn’t much else for him to talk about.

But surprisingly it was enough for convo because you always had new discussions to talk through with him anyways. Some were silly, (“Come on, you’ve got to admit it! The Teletubbbies having kids is just weird.”) some were trivial (“Cats or Dogs? — And be honest!”) and others reminiscent (“Remember how we tried to build a secret hide out in this very tree?”).

Miguel also found out that you were single.

“I know you mentioned you’re doing therapy and stuff but…how are you holding up? Like, really holding up?”

An automatic groan leaves Miguel’s mouth. There it was — three hours into the conversation. The million dollar question.

He hates gatherings and functions for this very reason. No matter how much people smiled in his general direction or pretended that they weren’t tiptoeing eggshells around him, they would always ask how he was in relation to That event in his life.

Not like they cared. If they cared, they would go out of their way to ask him, routinely check up on him, and not just when he was conveniently in front of them. They only asked because they were aware of the situation. Aware of his misfortune.

The guy who lost everything in 13 minutes.

The survivor of a freak accident.

Someone you’d pity from a far but thanked whoever that the situation never happened to you.

For that reason alone Miguel always lied and said he was ‘fine’ or that he was ‘holding up okay’. They’d give him pitying eyes, tell him that ‘things will get better’ and then kept it pushing. Usually, when it came to these questions, Miguel’s automatic response is to lie. But there was just something about you; Changed yet The Same you, where Miguel felt that he owed the honest and naked truth to.

“Honestly?” He drags a hand down his face. “I’m barely holding up at all. Everyday I feel like shit and if one day I surprisingly don’t, I know it’s a fluke and that I will definitely feel like shit tomorrow. It’s just a constant state of feeling off and never truly yourself.”

There’s a slight pause. It’s comfortable.

During that pause, you’re both privy to the music of party life. Chortling men, gossiping woman, squealing kids. It’s bittersweet because it kinda reminds Miguel of what he could have had.

Taking a swig of your drink, you make a humming noise before you’re replying to his triad.

“Damn. That’s rough, buddy.”

Miguel snorts.

Not because he likes how you’ve brushed off his miniature melancholy rant but because he gets the reference. Throughout the course of the barbecue, he thinks that’s one of his favourite things he’s noticed about you.

You both fall into another comfortable silence, before you’re adding:

“You know, being a widow kinda suits you.”

Maybe he spoke too soon about what his favourite thing about you was because now Miguel’s choking on his cider and wondering whether this too was a pop culture reference.

“I— wha— you can’t just say that kinda shit!” He turns to you and exclaims.

You scoff before rolling your eyes.

“You know I don’t mean it like that. Not that I like what’s happened to you — Rest in Peace to them — but as in the reverence that’s come with the trauma? It suits you. It’s matured you.”

You lull into another short pause but Miguel knows you weren’t finished. He also wonders if you’ve always been this harsh.

“Not sure if you’re aware but you were a real tool growing up, Miguel. Utter pure, soft, sheltered muck. This whole thing? It’s pushed you to survive. Moulded you. Given you a bit of character building, if you like.”

Your voice is much more calmer but it doesn’t change the fact that you just landed him with the most self-dismantling piece of information he’s heard in a while.

And yet it’s so bizarre because Miguel can’t help but find himself laughing.

Not one of those nose snorts when the group chat send subjectively funny memes or when he watches silly animal videos on his phone. No, Miguel’s caving over, free arm clutching to his stomach as he lets out a hefty guffaw. It doesn’t last long though. After about several seconds he completely stops laughing and sits back up regularly.

Initially, you think he was about to tell you it was all an act and what you said was in fact highly offensive. But it’s when he reverts back to his original position and continues to let out small huffs of laughter that you realise he’s just not used to reacting to things he finds extremely funny.

Which you’re questioning because nothing you said was a joke, but anything to get the sad man to smile, right?

But alas, seeing as he found humour in what you said, you let out a dry accompaniment of a laugh.

The two of you probably looked crazy, or at least drunk, as you each mildly chuckled away, weakly swaying side to side. When you both found it funny enough to stop laughing, Miguel spoke up first.

“Character building…” He huffs before taking another swig of his cider. “Well, that’s one way to put it.”

You turn your body in the man’s direction and he knows you have something profound to say. Miguel realises within some meta existence outside of himself that your company is oddly easy to keep.

“How else can you view it?” You warmly reply. “That it was meant to be? That you simply have bad luck? I dunno but every other option is just too demeaning and lifeless to live by. With this explanation at least it gives you a reason to carry on.”

Miguel nods solemnly with a pondering look on his face.

“I never saw it that way.”

“Of course you didn’t. You were grieving.”

There’s a pause but it’s not like the others you’ve shared so far. This silence was slightly uncomfortable, uncalled for even. Miguel didn’t mind it because he feels he’s already gone pass the point of feeling embarrassment with you but he could tell it put you in a compromising position.

Looking over to him, your face vacates something undetectable.

“And about that…”

You softly clear your throat. Miguel is about to take another swing of his drink, but it’s when he sees a glint of something in your eyes, that he decides to slowly lower the bottle neck from his mouth.

“I’m sorry for not being there for you. In all honesty I was around when it happened and definitely knew what was going on I just…I didn’t know how to approach you about it. We’d grown apart for a bit and it was just…it felt strange to give my condolences after being distant from you for so long.”

There’s a tingling sensation scratching at the cage of Miguel’s chest.

He doesn’t know what the feeling is. All he knows is that he hasn’t felt it in awhile. But then again, Miguel hasn’t felt a lot of things in awhile so he’s not questioning what it is. But most of all, Miguel is surprised that he’s feeling things for once. He’s not sure if he wants to confront himself about them but he knows that they’re influencing his thought process.

Miguel tries to take a sip of his drink, but suddenly the liquid felt foreign in his mouth and his throat seemed unwilling to gulp it down.

He contemplates backwashing it back into the bottle but he’s suddenly subconscious about his image in front of you and how you perceive him.

Weird.

He forces the cider down.

“It’s whatever. Shit happens.” He says while squeezing the edges of his lips clean.

You make a noise of disagreeal. You used to make it all the time as a teen. Miguel wonders if you continued using it after all these years or if you just redeveloped the habit having being in his presence. He also notices how your chair seems to be a lot closer to his despite you never moving once.

“I know.” You say with slow and downward enunciation. “But either way, I’m sorry. I should have done better by you.”

You’re trying to stress something to him. He knows that now for sure but Miguel doesn’t know what you’re putting down or what he’s allowed to pick up.

He watches over at you with firm determination to find out what you’re insinuating but once he sees the way your eyes reflect the fiery dances of ambers, oranges and borderline crimson reds, he turns his head forwards again and clears his throat.

“I hear it. I appreciate your honesty.”

Miguel doesn’t know how he got into this position.

Actually, he does. He very clearly remembers how he asked you if you wanted to carry on talking inside, within his room specifically, and how he smooth talked you into getting on your knees.

But in all honesty, he didn’t mean for it to turn out this way (or maybe he did). Yeah, he may have walked up those stairs with his dick lurching colourfully within his pants at the insinuation, but his initial intentions was to give you a safer space to talk. He’s honest when he says his invitation was powered by a lot more than just pure unadulterated lust.

“Fuck…” He hisses once you scrape your bottom teeth ever so lightly against his shaft.

Miguel doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He doesn’t think animalisticaly stuffing them in your hair will do him any good and he thinks a hand on the cheek is too intimate. All he can find appropriate is to splay his hands behind him and slightly lean back to watch you work.

It’s almost alien seeing how your cheeks hollow over his cock and how your eyes fluttered shut as you manoeuvre your mouth up and down the length of his member, your hand helping you with what your mouth couldn’t reach.

Miguel doesn’t think there’s anything dehumanising about this.

He was so sure you were giving him the eyes back in the garden. And with the way your lips quipped to one side when he invited you into his room? Yeah, you were big people now. Adults. These sort of things weren’t like hushed secrets or tales of promiscuous old — these were You Either Do or Don’ts — and you both decided to Do.

“I-I’m close.”

No, there was nothing dehumanising about having your now super hot (and single!) childhood friend suck your cock within your childhood bedroom whilst your parents backyard party went on just outside your window.

Whether it felt right or not was for Later Miguel to worry about.

Despite his heed, you were still working your mouth over his cock. Your lips were so prettily spaced around his girth — almost a perfect fit, and Miguel knows he could easily finish this way but he’s making an active decision not to.

He wants to be mildly selfish and ask for more.

“I-I said I’m…nrgh.” Miguel sits forward before laying a few fingers to your forehead. “I don’t want to finish like this.”

You release Miguel’s cock from your mouth with a pop but you don’t leave him hanging dry. Your hand continues to stroke at his wet shaft and fuck, the way your lips glisten with your spit and his precum is legitimately going to push him off the edge, but he has to refrain himself.

“How else did you plan on finishing?” You quip.

Miguel seems to freeze as he gives you a look of expected understanding, and at first, he’s so sure you were going to make him spell it out but as predicted, you caught on quick and your eyes widen in realisation.

“Oh.”

Your hand discontinues stroking Miguel’s cock and he mildly panics at your response.

That didn’t seem like a good ‘oh’. Miguel doesn’t mean to be an enemy of his own progress but trust for him to end the day with a fractured friendship and blue balls. Suddenly, Miguels backpedalling on his initial stance of being selfish and getting what he wants.

“We don’t have to. I—Only if it’s okay with you, if you’re comfortable with it.”

“No. It’s fine.” Your tongue pokes out to swipe at your lips. Fuck. “Might as well get something out of this.” You quip.

Miguel wonders whether he should have been cautious of how rusty his pipe game had gotten. He hadn’t been intimate with anyone since his late wife and even then, he stayed off of her most of her pregnancy. Either way, as he’s thrusting his cock in and out of you, all he can think of is how forward you were with telling him about himself outside in the garden.

It’s not like he was a masochist or into degradation, but there was something about the way you were so bold and open in highlighting his flaws despite the satellite silence for well over a decade.

“How’s this for maturity, huh? For character building?” He grunts into your ear.

Okay, so maybe Miguel’s sex talk has gotten only a bit rustier, but with the way whimpering whines dribble from your lips, he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger like a promise string. He folds you into a deeper mating press, your feet cuddling his upper back and his body pressed against the warmth of your breasts.

“M-Miggy.” You moan into his collarbone.

The nickname causes an innate and deep annoyance to sprout from Miguel’s chest — so much so that he replies inadequately.

“Shut up.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he notices your stilling against his body and he immediately regrets his words. He however continues to fuck into you.

“S-sorry. I di-didn’t me—“

“Miggy.” You moan again, this time with even more intentional lust and immediately he knows what you’re doing.

“Don’t.”

His warning is solid, and inertly tinged with concern, because Miguel’s unsure how he’s supposed to look you in the eyes after this. You’re playing devious games, dangerous ones as you nail at his back.

“T-t-touch me, Miggy.”

Now, you’re really testing his patience but also his limits because Miguel is taking everything in him not to go all out.

And so he complies. Despite him knowing that it was going to rot at his brain for eons and eons to come, that he wasn’t going to be able to back away from this now that he’s had a taste, that he couldn’t go back to be being just Childhood Friends with you, he complies.

One of Miguel’s hands reaches down between the both of you and once he wedges it close enough, he allows his thumb to swipe at the meat of your swollen clit.

The mewl you let out is instant and makes Miguel’s dick hiccup inside of you and suddenly he’s seeing stars. Had you no concern for the party still very much going on? The possibility of someone hearing you? The issue of getting caught?!

A devious grin finds its way onto Miguel’s lips and he’s pressing wet open mouth kisses just below your earlobe.

“You’re so fucking dirty.” He breathes.

Quite frankly he’s lying through his teeth.

There is nothing about this experience or your request or your wanton reaction that was dirty. It was all in fact very sexy, lucrative. Hot. Miguel would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying every wet second of it.

The man can’t help but look down and watch as he bounces his hips harder against your seeping cunt. White froth forms around the base of his dick and he can’t deny that the sight arouses him.

“Is this who you really are, huh? All this time…all this time.”

It’s implicit what he accuses that you’re so called hiding, as if you haven’t been transparent with him this whole time. A breathy laugh leaves your throat.

“You’re…pro-projecting.” You mutter.

All Miguel can moan in reply is:

“I know.”

It doesn’t take long after that before you’re cumming around Miguel’s dick and him into the wryly rubber of the condom.

“Where do we go from here?”

Miguel is first to speak.

The two of you have been chilling out in silence for the most of twenty minutes. He was kind enough to let you stay underneath his covers. You were comfortable as you used his bed as your own, scrolling through your phone with one hand underneath your head and your feet rubbing like cricket legs. There was enough room for both of you to lie under there but you said something about not wanting to touch him just after sex.

Miguel deadpanned and then proceeded to call you things like spoilt and bratty in Spanish, but he still let you have your way.

Now he was sat at the foot of his own bed (can you believe!), back against the wall as he idly played a game on his console.

His phone had been buzzing all day; Peter and Jess ultimately amusing themselves in the group chat all whilst occasionally asking where Miguel was and whether the social interactions of the barbecue had killed him yet. He could respond now, but he’s saving the reveal of what went down till after you’re out of his hair. That way he can fanboy in the peace of his own company.

But now that the two of you were silently sharing a space, Miguel is starting to wonder whether he wanted his own isolated company now so that he could think properly. It’s when he’s failed to complete a level for the fifth time in a row (because his minds occupied on you) that he decides to lower the controller and therefore ask you that question.

Your eyes continue to stay glued to your phone screen as you answer him.

“We don’t have to go anywhere.” You mumble plainly. “Don’t have to put a name on anything.”

Miguel sighs loudly and he’s rubbing his face with both hands. His dramatics pass over you.

“Fuck, no, no. I’m not doing that. It’s either we are or wes isn’t. I haven’t got the capacity for any of that situationship, fuck buddies, friends with benefits bullshit people’ve got going on.”

Miguel is scared for himself once he says the words because it’s only after they tumble out his mouth that he realises they were kinda harsh — which, technically shouldn’t be a problem concerning that was this evening’s whole weird theme.

But he feels even more afraid because as stupid as it sounds, he can’t lose you. Another staple in his life. Despite him only reconnecting with you for the past few hours or so, Miguel has grown very attached to you and would be an idiot to deny that you meant a lot to him.

He couldn’t afford to lose you over one fuck.

Either way, Miguel doesn’t regret those words. They were a direct reflection of how he felt, of what he was thinking whilst he was fucking into you not even half an hour ago. He knows that this one canon event has caused a split trajectory for the both of you. Miguel thinks whatever happens after this is just another testament to how life continuously deals him rubbish cards but he can’t figure out what’s worst: having to let go of a possibly good thing or deal with the change that will now inevitably come with the relationship.

However you, clearly not as turmoiled as Miguel, slightly lower your phone screen from your face so that you could stare at the man.

“Then ‘wes isn’t’ anything then. Simple as.”

It was so obvious this was affecting Miguel internally because there’s that screw up face he does when he’s inadvertently tickled by something he’s heard. He use to do that a lot growing up.

“How can you be so calm about this?” He asks.

“Because it’s not that deep.” You shrug.

Now Miguel’s leaning closer to you, voice seeming to seethe but as a clear defence mechanism.

“Whaddyou mean it’s not that deep?!” He spits.

Because he’s acting like this, you now have to lock your phone and place it down onto the bed so that you can give him your utmost attention. You’re even thinking to back track your earlier words about him having matured. It was obvious that he was still that same young boy who sought to always get what he wanted.

In a weird sense, it was comforting.

“Not in that way, dummy.”

You force yourself to sit up against his headboard, the blanket sliding down to expose your naked chest.

“I didn’t see sex with you as casual, Miguel. It was definitely something. But I’m just… Mm. I don’t wanna say I’m not in a rush to label anything but, it’s you. Lil o’ Miggy from two doors down. There’s too much to us and who we are, how long we’ve known each other, how much we’ve experienced each other to let sex completely change that.”

You can tell he wasn’t expecting your words because his face falls and his eyes widen. He’s so unaware of his facial expressions that it’s cute.

With a huff of laughter you shake your head before slouching backwards even more. The way your eyes doll over him was surely a testament to your lack of will power when it came to him. Always has and always will be.

“I love you but in a much bigger way than just platonically or romantically or sexually. You mean a lot to me and I’m grateful we were able to have that experience to strengthen that.” You say softly.

Miguel finally closes his mouth. His eyes still bore holes into you but you can see his skin start to redden in the embarrassment from the chest upwards.

You’d figure it’d be a lot for him to take in. Granted — because hearing your childhood friend say they loved you in a much larger capacity than anyone ever could — despite having not seen each other in years, straight after sex, was definitely something. And you figure that part of it was you trying to express to him that you really were sorry, so you realise your triad can almost be viewed as borderline manipulative, but you wasn’t lying.

You loved the man in a bigger way than fathomably possible, and that was the truth.

Finally coming to his senses, Miguel leans back against his bedroom wall again, picks up his controller and resumes to play his game. Initially, you think he’s taken your words the wrong way and misunderstood you, but then he starts mumbling something as he’s watching the screen with a hard stare and blotchy crimson skin.

“That’s unfair.” He mumbles, the click of the controller working in between pauses. “You can’t tell me you love me whilst showing me your boobs. It’s cheating.”

And you laugh, because what else can you do? As hard-headed and brash as he was in his earlier days, this was who Miguel was. It’s the first version of him you ever fell in love with and didn’t stop loving. It’s the version you’re carpingly in love with now.

Lifting up a corner of the duvet, you give the man permission to join you in his own bed.

“Miggy, just get underneath the blanket and stop pouting at me.” You say, and he can’t but help instantly crawl over and dutifully comply.

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #across the spider verse #across the spider verse smut #atsv smut #atsv x reader #atsv x black reader smut #atsv x black reader #atsv

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thefallennightmare · 8 months

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Noah Sebastian

One Night: One night. That's what Noah and Reader agreed to. No questions, no second thoughts, and no regrets. But will one night be enough to fill the hunger they both craved?[COMPLETE]

Miracle: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.[COMPLETE]

Just Pretend- “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.”

A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.[IN PROGRESS]

Mercy[FALLEN ANGEL AU]-"Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her. Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.[IN PROGRESS]

The Coyotes Cry-[MafiaBoss!TattooArtist! Noah Sebastian] Centered on the story of a young bride whose fairy-tale vision of the Concrete Jungle is shattered when her father, part of the Irish Crime Family; McManus strikes a marital peace deal with the mafia head of OMNS, Noah Sebastian. Scarlett is faced with rage and conflict, as she is forced to work alongside her new husband in his tattoo shop that fronts for his mafia dealings. Devastating events leave Scarlett with the realization that there is more to Noah than meets the eye. "I would willingly, lay down my life for you if I had to." The power of love is thicker than blood.[IN PROGRESS]

Let Me Be Yours- Reader was in an abusive relationship, and she ended up pushing away the one guy who never did her wrong. Noah refused to let her feel as if she wasn't worthy of love; especially when he had so much to give her.[ONE SHOT]

Bad Decisions- Noah realizes a little too late that he has a breeding kink.[DRABBLE]

Comfort- Reader suffers from really bad period cramps and Noah takes care of her the only way he knows how.[DRABBLE]

HERE

What It Cost- The darkness was all Reader ever knew and now that it was following her, closing in to devour her, she needed to chance to breathe. With one destination in mind, she set out only to stop when she noticed an attractive stranger on the side of the road; his own darkness making her give him a ride to where he needed to go. Both of them were desperate for something else but neither of them could change and it nearly cost them everything.

Braids-Reader braiding Noah's hair during a movie marathon.

Eternally Grateful[Miracle Universe]- Reader refused to take the laptop Noah bought for her after she specifically asked him to stop spending his money on her. That was until he wore her down with his tongue.

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian and reader #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #bad omens #bad omens reader

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serahlink · 6 months

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🚨 EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS OPEN🚨 tw // homeless / some med talk but not much

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Making a new post to hopefully get some work for my family and I so we have somewhere to stay for tonight, since work has been very slow lately. I'm Link, and I'm a 22-year old artist, and my family and I (me + my father and younger sibling) have been homeless since November 2021. It's a long story. TL;DR version is at the same time, while I was living with a friend and my dad + younger sibling was on the road (he drove a van at the time) he had gotten into a diabetic coma and was fired by his job. Being fired meant he or my sibling didn't exactly have a home to go back to, as our relatives on both sides refused to help. At the same time, I was going to have to find someplace else since my friends grandmother was entering the late stages of her life and they had to transfer her to the nursery, meaning there was a lot of things his family had to take care of and I couldn't be there. They allowed my father, sibling and I to stay there for two weeks to give us time to find someplace else.

While I was there, I'd been doing commissions to help their family out with food, and since it was either the streets or living under a roof; I told my friend to take us to a nearby motel since we had enough for a day, and we could figure things out from there. So since then, I've been keeping us here by doing commissions ever since. Either of us haven't been able to obtain a job yet due to how hard it is for us to get our documents to get an id (we dont have a car at the moment, and saving money for the room and food is already tough as is), but recently we think we might be able to get my father's ID so he can work, were waiting on his lung condition to recover fully and get money saved up for the documents and all that before we apply to get them. So hope isn't fully lost for us, we just need to take care of some things for a while longer until then.

Recently, things have gotten worse again. We were paying weekly thanks to the help from my followers and commissions I was getting, but when we weren't able to pay for another, we went back to paying daily again. And immediately we were set back. For the past few days, we haven't been able to pay for one let alone food. We were able to pay most of it to at least stay here, thanks to the kindness of the staff, but they called us earlier to tell us if we couldn't pay everything tonight, then we'd have to leave. We owe 120 by 11pm tonight, and I thought maybe making a new post might help us since posting on my other socials hasn't done much for us lately.

My commissions are open, and if you're interested in helping us out via a commission you can contact me through my Tumblr dms since it's the easiest way to get to me. But if you can't help financially, which I totally understand, I know the economy is tough on all of us right now, please don't feel bad or anything. Reblogs also help us a ton, and it always means a lot to us.

For the commission info itself, I have it all packed into this link right here, along with examples of my art and prices. I draw mainly fantasy pertaining to the Dragon Age Series and although I know little to nothing about Baulders Gate, I have done some art of tavs before! I also do DnD work as well, so I'm used to drawing pretty unique characters. I'll also put some examples I have below. If you want something outside of that, I'm sure I can provide, just let me know upon your request! And I think that's all. Much love to you and thank you for reading, I hope you have a wonderful day/night :)

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the-broken-truth · 10 months

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Leaving The Web [Part 6 - Epilogue] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Broken Truth: Someone in the comments asked me for a Part 6 to this storyline so I decided to make an Epilogue. Please enjoy this final part of Leaving The Web.

[Earth-928 / Spider-Society / Infirmary]

"Broken Ribs. Fractured Leg, Bruised Ego." Lyla said as she went over Miguel's Medical Chart while the Leader of the Spider-Society was laying in a bed with his body bandaged and his red eyes looking at the ceiling with his traditional frown on his face while he slowed his breathing to relieve the pain on his ribs. It had been a week since he was thrown back into the portal by Venom & his daughter, [Name], and he was just now gaining consciousness. Miles and Gwen with the help of Peter B. Parker got him into the infirmary so that he could get his wounds looked at and bandaged but he passed out from the pain and the stress

"Just tell me how the operations are doing, Lyla." Miguel said in his nonchalant voice.

"All the operations are going smoothly, most of the Anomalies have been captured and returned to their proper Earth...but Peter has not sent anyone to Capture Venom and [Name]," Lyla explained.

"Why? I flagged that as a top priority. I need them back home as soon as possible." Miguel said as he looked at Lyla but she just shook her head and looked at her creator through her heart glasses.

"Miguel, you know that I normally joke about these things but you need to let [Name] go, she doesn't want anything to do with us, mainly you, so it's time to let them go and leave them to have their own life," Lyla said.

"But, I need her..." Miguel said ut Lyla shook her head.

"No. You had her and she tried to get your love and attention - you abandoned her to raise another daughter when your other version was killed in that robbery. You called her a burden and looked at her with disgust whenever she tried to get your attention. Think - do you really want her or do you just want to replace what you lost?" Lyla said as she disappeared. Miguel looked at the ceiling and thought about what Lyla said - it was a serious question and he didn't know the answer to it.

[Name's] Earth]

[Name] walked down the street with her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket - which was actually Venom - as she was heading to her job to collect her paycheck for the week.

"Do you think Madame Kristen will give us the Chocolate Sculpture of us?" Venom asked.

'I'm not sure, that's the most sought-after creation she has and I think she promised it to her niece for her birthday.' [Name] thought as she walked into the store and out after getting her money with her weekly bonus only to see the Vulture flying over her head as Cop Cars chased after him.

"Do we really have to?" Venom asked.

"You know the answer to that, V." [Name] said as she walked into the alley and let the Symbiote consume her into her Spider-Woman Suit, and swung after the cop cars. After attacking the Vulture and defeating him, allowing the cops to take him away, Spider-Woman swung away to reach her apartment and found a note attached to her door in familiar writing.

Mija and Venom,

I know that you didn't want to hear from me again after you both beat the crap out of me and tossed me back into my portal to send me back to the Spider-Society but I wanted to tell you both that I am sorry for everything that I have done to you. I ignored you. I neglected you. I failed you. I shall leave you alone and never return to your Earth again so long as there are no anomalies there, but I won't bother you and make you come back home with me. If you decide to come home, I shall accept and love you. Love you and live your best life.

Signed, Your Father, Miguel O'Hara.

[Name] and Venom looked at the note before going into their apartment for dinner and chocolate.

Just another day in New York for Spider-Woman and Venom.

#spiderverse #yandere miguel o'hara #platonic yandere #female reader #daughter reader #venom symbiote #lyla

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chocolatecakeandbl · 1 year

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Prapai’s Past - Character Study with Headcanons

Out of the blue, we had a very interesting convo yesterday at the server. It started with ‘Prapai’s happiness’ and turned into ‘What might have happened in Prapai’s past?’

A lot of headcanons came up, halfway turned into a deep character study we want to share with everyone.

Buckle yourself in, get a drink. This will take some time :3

A short Prapai Character Study

We often joke about Prapai being empty-headed about anything that is not Sky and Sky's body, but we never think of him as just a dopey guy. He has to be brilliant at his job. His father wouldn't have made him CEO if he were an idiot. He has brilliant emotional intelligence. He just plays the smiley fuckboi, because that's what people expect him to be.

Prapai the CEO.

The amount of burden he has to carry on his shoulders must be beyond imagination.

The pressure? The expectations?

Prapai’s family seems to be supportive, but they still loaded expectations upon expectations on him.

Prapai the family anchor.

The boy raised his siblings, said so himself. How fast has he had to grow up? How old was he when he lost his childhood?

Where was Pai's mother in this? Why did the responsibility for his siblings fall on Pai? Why not someone else? They are rich. They could have had help. Nannys? Other family members? Literally anyone but Pai? So why Pai?

A possible headcanon:

Pai's mom was there when Phan and Plerng were still small, but when they got older, it fell on Pai. Largely because Pai was always present and wanted to take care of them, loved them more than himself - that's how this boy is, really. In the end, Pai was too protective to let someone else care for them?

In a way, if looked for deep enough, it becomes tragic. Why? Because he had the money for a place to live, all the food and stuff he might have wanted. But he was too young to carry the responsibility of a family, and it led him to make hard choices.

Prapai, the man behind the mask.

Prapai is incredibly intense in whatever he does.

He was given a lot of responsibility since a young age, not only from his parents because his dad most likely already had the intention for him to become CEO the moment he was born, but also because he cared for his siblings the way he did. It might have ended up coming naturally to him, not only because he IS loving like that, but because he's been slowly put into a position of "taking care of things", whatever those may be. Started off as helping out his brother with a bruise, ended up in making deals and ensuring the status of the company.

On the other side, we see what happens IF Pai stops wearing that mask of smiles, and his charming sunny boy self. It's been a thing when Sky cut him off. But what really got us was the way he looked when he got up to repay Gun’s efforts.

There wasn’t a trace of a smile. Prapai’s eyes were intense, focused. His stance was tall, grand, room filling. Someone hurt the man who is his heart? His life?

This is the moment the mask falls completely. What we find is an intense Prapai. A protective Prapai. A Prapai who doesn’t fear to keep those safe he wants to have safe no matter what it costs.

This Pai is the real Pai.

Why the smiles?

If you have no idea why he keeps smiling and being the sunny boy, it's easy to say that he just is like that because he never had to worry about anything. He's from a rich family. He had his future set out. He's pretty.

But what does it need to be a young CEO?

That is what many underestimate. How there's ALWAYS people telling you how you are too young for the job, that there's no way the company survives under your hands. That you only got the position bc of X instead of your own hard work. If you leash out, it's all over. Everyone goes "Told you. He's not made for the position." So what is left? Smile. Be charming. Maybe add a bit of puppy eyes and acting innocent because it always helps. We all see it at Pai. We hc he not only got hurt relationship wise, but also has to take slights on an everyday base. He has a way to cope with it, but it's a thing many people choose to not see.

Inevitable questions we never got answers to:

Why was Prapai ‘raised’ by his uncle?

Why did he end up having to raise his siblings?

Where had his parents been?

Why had he had to take over the company at such a young age?

Prapai as a teenager

Prapai wearing his heart on his sleeve is so true and we can only imagine a much younger Prapai, being his lovely golden retriever self trying to give someone his heart, only for it to be stomped on. How long he might’ve been a ‘kicked puppy’, who decided that all smiles, swaggering fuckboi was the mask he needed to wear from then on?

What if this is what happened? Teenage Prapai who lost his heart to someone only to have it crashed...

What made him into the 'fuckboi' we got to know? Did he sit down, over his broken heart, seeing the sadness in his eyes in the mirror, and go "No one will ever get to know about it?" only to adapt a "Single life is best." attitude we saw he had (and conveyed to his siblings)?

What if he tried again, got shot down again, then realized people only wanted him for one thing.

OR.... Maybe he overheard someone talking about him. Young Pai, pondering on whatever he's pondering on, maybe he's in school or college, he overhears a conversation about him, and as he's about to walk in and say hi, he hears himself described in ways that break his heart.

It's hard to believe he just chose “Single life is the best!” out of the blue and that he always wanted the "single heartthrob" vibe for himself. Prapai is TOO lovely to simply be a player.

He didn’t go through a trauma like Sky went through, but he might have gone through a period of time with someone whom he cared for a lot but who didn't treat him the way he deserved. "Why should I even give my heart to anyone if people just use it however they'd like?"

Considering he was raised to care for everything, he wouldn't just go around "fucking and finding out".

What if we go deeper into this headcanon?

What if he tried relationships?

He freaking tried but got so badly hurt he decided he’s either not worth it or everyone is the same so there’s no point in trying. In high school, or while in UK. Being cheated on, being used for money, being a game in someone’s bet (I dare you to get into Pai’s pants and make him head over heels for you kind of bet). A different hurt from Sky’s, but still one creating a huge scar in his heart.

So many people just go for looks.

And Pai fits in that part. Not only does he come from a monetary background, and social status, but he has the looks as well.

He is a charming boy, it's hard to not want him.

Maybe he's how he is because he got hurt. He got used. And to avoid it happening again, he opened a playground where he could live out the frustration his life inevitably brings, while at the same time getting that tad bit of intimacy (aka bedroom activities) keeping him sated enough to go through daily life.

We think Pai is someone, who IF he had a relationship before, got cut off because he is very caring. And so many out there just aren't able to cope with it. Too many feelings. Too much care. Too much focus.

It’s easily overwhelming for too many.

Prapai’s Happiness

We often talk about how Pai made Sky happy, made him feel safe, but we talk way too little about how Sky taught Pai to be happy and showed him that happiness in a relationship is a thing too. Before Sky, Prapai had no idea how real relationships work. He didn’t know the joy that came from it, nor that slightly different feeling of support and feeling home.

Now, Sky showed him what real, genuine romantic love is, what does it mean to hold someone in your arms feeling content simply because that person is next to you and you can hug them.

That your love’s happiness is often your happiness.

Sky showed him that fuzzy warm feeling. He rid him of loneliness and gave Pai stability. The way that boy smiles in EP11 after the NC, when he holds Sky in his arms, and in EP13 when he peppers him with all the kisses?

It’s a totally different smile from all the smiles he showed us before. His eyes sparkle with unconfined joy.

We think Pai never experienced something like this before.

It’s proven by how often Prapai says something along the lines of "I've never done this before, you know?" And how it's a sign of the journey of discovery he's in.

He's finding out all of these new things in his first ever relationship.

He wants to share them with Sky. And since he's an eager puppy, he’s all happily going "Look! I did this for the first time!"

In turn for Sky, who has been in a relationship before, but was not cared for during it, all of Prapai's discoveries are discoveries for himself too. He's finding out what real love is like.

Prapai: You know, I've never cleaned up someone before.

Sky: You know, no one has ever done this for me before.

They discover and learn together.

Sky teaches Prapai how a true relationship should look like - the boy isn’t even aware he does, he’s just being himself, but with his feelings for Prapai it’s inevitable. The love he offers Prapai is the guide.

Prapai teaches Sky how to be happy again, how to love again, how to not be afraid again.

But who said Prapai isn’t scared himself? The man has all the love to give, he’s a natural caretaker. He’s been born to give.

But with it comes the inevitable danger of being used. Sky doesn’t use Pai. And maybe, this is the whole point.

Prapai and Sky

It says a lot that Prapai waited for 3 months before actively going to PhayuRain's place one day to get a hold of Sky’s number. We see he tried before, but got interrupted. But if we go deeper, if Pai would have REALLY wanted Sky's number, he could have gotten it before. He waited 3 months to get it. And we think that's the cue. He'd been debating with himself for weeks, because he couldn't get Sky out of his mind. He couldn't sleep with others anymore because it just didn't bring any joy anymore. It felt wrong. It's safe to say the three times he slept with someone might have happened within a week after he met Sky (because let’s be honest, Pai is on the active side when it's about sex. He doesn't need to wait) It took him approx, a week to realise he wants Sky, and no one else when it's about sexual pleasure. It took him 3 months (!!) to really make up his mind and for SURE get Sky's number. We think this is what says it all.

If he hadn't been burned before, he wouldn't have waited that long. He could have gotten Sky's number before through Phayu or Rain. He could have tried to get another night with Sky. Just sex. GREAT sex, but after all, only sex. But no. He decided to ponder over Sky, kept replaying their time. A clear sign he's debating with himself. Should he? Should he not? Pai is a smart boy. Yet, he went to Saifah, “Hey, what's the meaning if I can't stop thinking about him?" A question he could easily answer himself. He got the validation he searched for through Saifah, and promptly went ahead with a plan he surely had in mind for a while.

All the scenes we didn't see, but would have been highly interesting, would have clued us in.

Aka the drive from the university to Sky's apartment, when Pai "picked up" Sky the first time.What did they do during the drive? Did they talk? Did Pai steal glances?

Another key scene for us is when Sky falls into the memory right in front of Pai before they got breakfast.

Cards on the table..

Who would be able to make sense of the retreat from Sky, who hadn't been hurt before?

Pai sees the hurt. And for someone to be able to see the hurt, the one must have experienced hurt before.

He reacts perfectly that moment. He draws Sky out of the building to get food (bc we all know food can help immensely in such a situation bc it changes the body reaction) I don't think anyone would do it/see it, who doesn't have any experience with it.

Again, in summary, and I can’t stress enough about it: Who’d do that if they didn’t know what being hurt feels like?

What does it NEED for someone to see it in someone else? And how much MORE does it need for someone to go "How can I help you?" after recognizing the hurt in the other?

Prapai was genuinely concerned. He dropped all his smiles and playboy-ish ways immediately. All masks fell.

Another instance is the boardroom scene.

Excuse me if we go a bit off course for a moment, but there is literally no other way to word it:

The boardroom behind the scenes was very telling.

How Fort and Peat remain in their position on top of the table, not just because they're doing a scene, but we think deep down Fort is caging Peat with his body, he can easily just wrap himself on top of him to protect him if needed. And we think it's something he shows in Prapai too.

When did Pai fall for Sky?

Hard to say. We can’t possibly know. But what we know is:

When Sky kept pushing Prapai away and not falling for his charms/money/sex, Prapai might have hoped that maybe this time risking his heart to love again would not be a bad idea. And maybe this time this "cold" person might be exactly who he's been looking for all this time.

Prapai saw in Sky his own façade. To be a playboy, you also need to play a role. Sky was the ice prince, Prapai was all smiles and charm, but in some of his interactions he's also straight up sassy and cold. We think he definitely did his fair share of "this means nothing, it's sex, just take what you want and leave me be" like Sky did to him.

It is an instant connection?

This study is a collab of @fortpeat (who also did ALL the work with the screencaps *smooches*) and @moriano and @akitbeast and @bird-inacage and @mb-praiskyfortpeat and ofc me :3

#prapaisky #love in the air #paisky #lita #prapai x sky #skyprapai #love in the air series #love in the air the series #fortpeat #lita meta

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gorouenjoyer · 18 days

Text

-Differences-

We’re not too different

A fanfic mildly inspired by kamiverse’s tfl

(half cannon universe half modern au)

Themes - Romance, angst, smut, betrayal

Pairings - Gorou×reader, Lyney×reader, Neuvillette×reader, Zhongli×reader, Albedo×reader, Scaramouche×reader, Tartaglia×reader

Warnings- virgin!reader, Lyney is kinda a slut?-college!Lyney, college!Lynette, college!reader, collage!furina

Smut will be next chapter I promise<3

Opposites attract right?

We’re really different. Lyney and I have been friends since FOREVER, he was an orphan who was adopted and raised by this figure he calls “father” from what I’ve heard father is a fatui harbinger who was apparently a fellow Fontainian

We met because I saw Lyney on the street one day doing some fun magic tricks. He wasn't very well dressed so I’d thought that I would talk to him, maybe even help him out if he needed food as my family was well off enough to donate to charity.

Lyney seemed harsh at first glance, it turns out that day his twin sister Lynette got taken away by aristocrats. So that day I made a promise to be by his side forever and make sure nothing bad ever happens to him or his sister ever again!

I lost contract with Lyney after that and during that time he got adopted by “father” and my mom lost her high paying job for a “undisclosed” reason

Now we’re both in our early 20s and in college, all three of us are studying at “La institution de fontaine éducationnel” or IFÉ. Lyney is studying acting as he’s trying to perform at “la opera epiclese” at some point while Lynette is studying engineering as she is hoping to help her brother cut costs by doing repairs herself.

Lyney has always been extroverted and quite charming so Lynette is always complaining to you about how her brother has another girlfriend or boyfriend which you always respond to with complaining about how you're always single.

One day however you’re complaining to Lyney himself about being single while he visits your dorm which leads to an interesting conversation about a way to potentially solve that…

“What? You’re still single with your looks?” Lyney asks while leaning on the wall“WAIT! Does that mean you’re a virgin?” he taunts with a big dumb smirk glued on his face

“W-well uhm- Y'know what? That’s a really weird and uhm, invasive? YEAH invasive question to ask a female friend” you manage to stutter out with as much confidence as possible in this situation

Lyney laughs and offers you a bet, “If you end up sleeping with 5 men by the end of the summer I’ll offer you 200k, but the catch is that you aren’t allowed to fall in love with them. You have to sleep with 5 men, no strings attached” you stare at him with confusion while wondering how serious he is but then Lyney adds with a smile “Y’know what for every man after the 5th I’ll add another 50k”

Lyney extends his hand forward for a handshake “deal?” you think for a moment wondering if this is really worth it. You don’t have enough money to finish your course and with 200K+ you’ll have enough to finish your last 2 years of university, maybe even enough to spoil yourself a bit with new clothing and makeup.

The only problem was the time frame, you’ll only have 4 months for 5 guys? Surely I can’t do that right? I haven’t slept with a single guy for what? 20 something years? How can I sleep with 5 in such a short timeframe?

After a lot of consideration you decide to take up his offer so you reach out your hand, but suddenly in a random act of courage or stupidity you add “I’ll accept your offer but on one condition, you’ll be the first guy” Lyney looks taken aback? Confused? Uncertain? No idea, but what you can notice is the light reddining of his cheeks.

“What? Are you repulsed by the idea Lyney? How rude” you questioned in a jokey tone

Lyney’s eyes widened in shock “No no, not AT ALL. I was just surprised you asked in such a uncharacteristically bold manner” he exclaims in mild panic

“So when do you want this to happen?” he asks awkwardly

“Oh uhm.. Sooner the better I think but probably not tonight? You respond while fiddling your thumbs “Maybe in a few days? Y’know what I’ll message you!” you decide

After Lyney quickly and awkwardly leaves you message your best friend and roomie, Furina

10:48PM

-reader-: GIRLY YOU’LL NEVER GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED

-Furina-: Did your lonely ass finally get a boyfriend?

-reader-: BETTER THAN THAT

-Furina-: WHAT? REALLY? DID YOU WIN THE LOTTERY?

-reader-: Ok just combine the last two ideas

-Furina-: YOUR ASS GOT A SUGAR DADDY??? HOW OLD???

-reader-: TF NO?

-Furina-: I give up ;-;

-reader-: LYNEY SAID HE’LL GIVE ME 200K TO SLEEP WITH 5 MEN BEFORE THE SUMMER

-Furina-: WHAT?? ARE YOU GONNA DO IT???

-reader-: YEAH PROBABLY AND ON TOP OF THAT HE SAID HE’LL BE THE FIRST ONE :333

-Furina-: NO WAYYYYY SERIOUSLY? HE’S ACTUALLY SO FINE? I’M JEALOUS GIRL-

-reader-: You have a boyfriend who’s house you’re at right. now. HOW ARE YOU JEALOUS?

-Furina-: Uhm we don’t talk about thatttt, ANYWAYS GTG LOVE YOU POOKIE GL

-reader-: BYEEEEE<3333

You put down your phone for the night and decide to get ready for bed but while your trying to sleep all you can think of is what transpired today

When you wake up it’s already kind of late but your roommate isn’t back yet so you text her

11:17AM

-reader-: Hey wanna meet up at that cafe down the street later? Maybe at 12:30 if that’s good with you?

11:52

-Furina-: GIRL- I'M SO SORRY I SLEPT IN

-Furina-: 12:30 works BUT ALSO I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU WHEN WE GET THERE

-reader-: OMG OK SEE YOU >:3

A/N: I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG >W< I really wanted to get the pacing right for this fic cause I feel like I rush things

#fanfic #genshin smut #diffrences #gorou #gorou smut #lyney #lyney smut #tartaglia #tartaglia smut #zhongli #zhongli smut #neuvillette smut #neuvillette #albedo #albedo smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche

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shalotttower · 2 months

Text

Cultivating Flowers

Title: Cultivating Flowers

Fandom: Original

Summary: Marquis is a man of many interests, including gardening. Specifically, his new roses.

Word count: 3500+

Characters: OC!Marquis x Reader (female)

Notes: yandere!OC, manipulation, animal cruelty (not detailed, briefly described), seduction.

The first bloom appears two weeks after spring starts and it's the most glorious flower in all Marquis' garden. Gentle apricot color, like your favourite dress. You were saving for months — a whole autumn — and grandfather grumbled and grumbled about the frivolous waste of money, but once you finally put it on, his scolding didn't matter a bit. The dress made you feel like royalty — elegant, graceful, important.

You wonder if this is how Marquis feels all the time.

Gorgeous outfits, a splendid castle, a life of aristocracy and ease where everything is taken care of by servants and every other weekend there's an opulent dinner party full of refined conversations.

Your envy for him is almost as big as your caution.

Marquis Nicolae is rich. Like many rich people he possesses time. And when one has too much, they become terribly, infinitely bored. That's what grandfather told you in one of his drunken rants: people who are rich, castle-rich, private carriage-rich for generations are bored like nobody else, because nothing is scarce to them and so nothing is precious either. Work for them. Take their money. Keep your head low and remember — they don't see us like we see them.

Grandfather doesn't work in the castle anymore. He's got old hands which shake from years of physical labour and fruit brandy, back-aching hunched posture and swollen feet that need rest. Now he stays at home, waiting for you to return with stories and bread rolls baked by the cook.

He used to serve Marquis Nicolae's father, who was twice as rich, but thrice as wicked, according to grandfather's words.

"I was a stableman, your grandmother was a seamstress, God rest her soul. Sewed all my shirts, this one included," he tugs at the fabric with pride. "She did well on it... Look at those stitches."

For a moment he gets lost in muttering and rubs his index finger on an even patch of stitched fabric, as if hoping his touch can conjure a spectre. "Not like now, where clothes fall apart after just three seasons. Quality... Sturdiness," he smacks the table. "People used to think long term. Made their shirts for decades, strong like this."

Grandfather is forgetful these days, he leaps from one topic to another and loses the main line of thought, especially after a few glasses. But you wait.

"When I worked for Lord Cazimir, you see," he says finally. "He had horses, all strong, sleek, looked like jewels. A new horse each two months, said it wasn't right for a gentleman to have one for too long, but by God, I never saw a man treat them worse than him. Not enough sleep, ridden until bones hurt. If the carriage hit a stone, it was the horse's fault, if the reins got tangled it was the horse's fault, not the bloody driver. He had that whip with metal feathers which could cut through an apple. And before he made the last swish, he'd pause. Look the horse in the eyes. That was the scariest thing, how he stared at them, so calmly."

He glances at you, as if fearing an admonishment. For what? You wonder how it felt, caring for something that looked like a jewel time after time, after time, and knowing the goodbye was certain and inevitable, like a turn of a watermill wheel. Did grandfather mourn the horses? Or did he get used to burying their bodies under the soil? Maybe they fed someone later — people who don't have much are resourceful, they don't bury good meat.

You squeeze the water from the sheet in silence.

"None simply lived past two months, that's why he changed them so often."

"Why didn't you quit?"

"And then do what?" Grandfather snorts. "There was little job outside the castle, everyone who didn't have land or livestock worked for Marquis one way or another."

"It must have been difficult."

"Life is difficult," he answers, and you can't disagree.

Life is difficult, that's a fact, and it didn't get better when you started working for Marquis Nicolae yourself. A good thing is that unlike Lord Cazimir from scare stories he doesn't torment horses and rarely pays attention to anybody in a servant uniform. All of you share the same mindset: a quick "Good morning, m'lord" or "Have a pleasant day, m'lord" and then being gone as fast as possible.

Rumors circulate that Marquis never once had a full smile on his face. Charming chuckles when he's in a good mood, courtly lips stretches for ladies, bemused sneers when he's addressed by those who used to be in favour but now are out — yes, but the genuine and full-hearted joy: nobody has witnessed it.

He doesn't seem unhappy though, nor he is too serious. When you see him Marquis Nicolae always looks like he has eternity at hand and there's no hurry to spend it. To you, he is uninterested in anything and sharp about everything at once.

You can't describe him better. Words fail you when trying to fit him into boxes of easy understanding. But after all, it's not your job to fit him anywhere, your job is dusting shelves and scrubbing floors, and, since recent days — taking care of roses.

It's unusual for the castle to have such plants this early in spring. They're imported, said the gardener, from cooler places and prefer winter over the blooming season of May and June. That's why Marquis commissioned a greenhouse construction weeks prior, to have beautiful flowers which can bloom regardless of the weather. It took an entire month of hard work, people hired from nearby towns and a promise of good money. You watched them build from the kitchen window where you were helping with meals.

Roses arrived next. Seven bushes filled with buds ready to open up any day. And oh they did. Soft apricot colors covered stems like dewdrops, beautiful enough to make one gasp.

One morning you bring your rag and a bucket to the greenhouse a bit earlier to enjoy the fragrance before breakfast is served. Nice things like these are not for maids like you — the petal scent and the gentle touch of leaves — they're for ladies in beautiful dresses who have time and luxury to appreciate them, but nobody will know anyway if you stop to lean down close enough for your nose to almost bury itself in velvety softness. It's a small indulgence which can hardly hurt anyone. Nobody will know if you pretend to be a lady just for a minute.

"They're quite extraordinary, aren't they."

You freeze, nose in the middle of the rose bush.

"I- Yes", you straighten up and curtsy. "They are most beautiful, m'lord."

Marquis' figure, backlit by the morning sun, casts a shadow which stretches far beyond your own feet.

"Do you know why I chose it?" he asks. "This breed."

He's dressed in a dark waistcoat with delicate embroidery on the collar and doesn't have a single hair out of place, not a strand too thick, not a strand too thin; as flawless as a painting which hang on the walls of his library, but not as solemn. Those paintings seem to measure everyone around them. Marquis Nicolae looks more approachable in appearance, and that's where the approachability ends. His eyes, burgundy brown colour you've never seen before, measure people too, in value rather than worthlessness.

You shake your head, "No, m'lord."

"Because," Marquis continues without minding your answer at all, "it's pretty."

His lips stretch in a courtly smile of a gentleman who is amused by his own joke. You don't understand it but smile in return anyway, because you must. Because this is how the world works — nobles are amused and maids fake understanding so the amusement can persist a little longer.

"Go on," he says. "They are meant to be smelled after all."

You nod and curtsy again.

Later he will be served tea at the ornate greenhouse table while you scrub the floors until your fingers ache. Marquis' focus will shift towards letters, and this is how it's supposed to be. Him reading correspondence, you being invisible like dust under the shelves you clean. It feels better when he doesn't look at you with those eyes of his. They pierce through everything they see.

There's something wrong about him. But you can't tell what yet.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Life is monotonous, especially in a place like this, even banquets and events have that homogeneous taste, because there's at least one every three weeks, not speaking of brunches which rotate regularly depending on who's currently in Marquis' favour. You serve dishes full of rich fragrances that make your mouth water but can't ever dream of trying them. Meat dripping with wine sauce, roasted chicken breasts wrapped in crispy bacon and glazed with honey syrup. Fresh fruits coated in powdered sugar. Sometimes in the evening when everyone is asleep you mouth the names of those meals: "Beef Bourguignon," "Veal Piccata", "Chicken Florentine". Those foreign words are hard to pronounce — Beef Boo-gee-nyon, Veel Pick-kata — you do it quietly and mostly in your head so grandfather doesn't hear and scoff about wasting time on useless things.

"You're not starving," he would say. "There's bread, there's soup, you don't need those. Be happy, girl. We used to eat potatoes for months straight during famines."

You've never been hungry enough to know what famine tastes like but suspect that the flavor must be something similar to the dull feeling between the busy hours of work, which gnaws at you and makes your thoughts drift to the lunch break.

Sometimes, in a particularly sour mood he adds, "Don't stuff your head with fancy nonsense you can't have, it's only gonna make you bitter."

True.

You're a maid. A girl. A nobody.

And this is how it's supposed to be.

How to tell grandfather that you don't wish to be fancy? Just to try once the roast duck stuffed with grapes and apples, or fresh sardines baked in butter sauce, which smell heavenly as they're carried up the stairs to Marquis Nicolae's salon where guests are gathered.

How to tell him that it's not about food, not really.

It's about knowing what an apricot rose smells like early in the morning while others sleep. How velvety its petals feel when touched. Delicate things like these you're not supposed to have, but do anyway, because a moment stolen out of monotony pulls you from beneath the apron. You, yourself, not just a pair of hands with tired fingers, exist briefly when roses bloom in Marquis' greenhouse and a little piece of yesterday's cake is smuggled into your pocket.

You understand why he's wary. Grandfather's right: with longing comes bitterness. But you're careful not to overdo it. There's only one stolen minute of appreciation each day, not more, so you remember who you are — someone meant to be seen rarely and unnoticed most of the time — and return behind the apron.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Spring goes on.

Daylight stretches a little longer. Ground gets a little warmer. Marquis Nicolae often spends time in his private study after breakfast, then at noon — in the greenhouse. He strolls there among the greenery or sits by one of the tables with a book. Reading seems to be an activity he favors, and unlike some other gentlemen who grow tired within pages Marquis can stay completely still for hours without once getting restless.

You know because you watch him from the corner of your eye.

What kind of books he likes to read if they manage to keep him entertained for such lengthy periods, what titles do those leather spines hide, which stories are good enough for a gentleman like Marquis? He always seems so politely disinterested. You wonder if there are books that can make even him laugh.

Sometimes he asks you questions which startle you.

"Have you read 'The Castle of the Lady'? It's a novel."

You shake your head. "No m'lord. I can't read."

His eyebrows raise. Not in astonishment, Marquis Nicolae has a face of a man who rarely encounters surprises, his reactions are akin to mild interest bordering on curiosity, as if he enjoys discovering something new, something that doesn't fit into his existing assumptions.

"Can't?" he repeats.

You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, "No, m'lord. Never learnt."

"Who raised you?"

"My grandfather. He's a stableman... was. Now retired".

"I see," he returns to his book.

You fidget with a rag in your hands, why does he care to ask such question? What difference does it make whether you read or don't? It's not that uncommon. Most servants only know the basics, letters which form their names and the ones that stand for numbers. You don't really need the skill. What for?

"You may continue," he adds.

So you do.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Are you the only child?"

"Yes, m'lord."

"Your mother? Father?"

"My mother passed away giving birth to me, and father was a soldier, so he died in a war."

"What a shame," Marquis says, but it sounds like a comment on bad weather.

You're standing with fresh linens in his opulent bedchamber. It's spacious: tall windows and furniture made of rare wood. Old, like the walls of Albastru castle itself. A maid's life story is neither interesting nor important enough to pursue it, at least not in the place like this. Marquis Nicolae is bored, that's the most reasonable explanation to the current arrangement. He's looking for entertainment, but what entertainment can come at your expense, you're unsure.

Grandfather warned you not to draw too much attention, but it's not exactly your fault. Marquis' schedule is well known — he spends evenings in the salon and retires long past midnight. The chamber should've been empty. You should've been able to change his bedding, clean the fireplace and leave without as much as a sound.

Yet here he is, in a high armchair by the fireplace.

And here you are, in front of him, waiting for a dismissal that doesn't come.

On a small coffee table there're squares with simple pictures — a dog, a cat, an apple, made of thin wood with letters engraved in black ink. You step from one foot to the other, the lemon-scented sheets hide the way your fingers twitch.

Marquis traces a square with a rose.

"Sit down," he says and motions to the other chair.

"Your linens, m'lord-"

"They can wait."

No, they can't, you think. The bedding needs to be done, the fireplace cleaned, carpets swept, wilted flowers removed — there's so much to do to linger, and it's already getting late. If you're not able to finish on time-

But Marquis Nicolae didn't give you permission to leave.

You sit and put the linens on your lap.

Grandfather would say that Marquis enjoys the sight of your discomfort behind that courtly smile of his, but he doesn't look amused, he looks the usual. Calm and slightly disinterested. Sharp, despite being relaxed.

"If you figure out what letters stand from this," he points at the apple picture square, "to this one," then moves his finger to the picture with a goat, "you'll get a treat."

"M'lord?" you frown.

There must be something wrong with your hearing, but no, Marquis leans back and crosses his long legs. "A treat."

Treats are for children, treats are for dogs, treats are for horses who are obedient and look like jewels. You stare at him, puzzled, but try not to let it show; nobles have strange hobbies sometimes: races which cost thousands of gold coins for one bet alone, hunting dangerous animals, forcing their servants into duels to pass time. This must be one of those, an entertainment beyond your comprehension.

Still, time is moving forward and the complexity of your situation is becoming more apparent with every passing second; you've never felt particularly powerful — why would you? — but now you're acutely aware of how fragile one's position is when it depends on someone else's whims.

You take the first picture.

An apple. Letter A. Then a ball — B. Cat... So that's what they look like written down.

Marquis' eyes follow your fingers as they slide across the wooden squares, you feel his gaze like a touch, even though there's a coffee table distance between you and a bit more. You quietly mouth each word and letter by habit, unaware of this little detail. His eyebrows raise, this time with a hint of amusement which you don't see, too focused on your predicament.

Dog — D.

The clock is ticking.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Well?" Marquis asks later when shadows cross the room. The sun is gone, the fire in the fireplace burns lower but bright enough to illuminate the space. Sitting like this has given you a headache which makes thinking harder.

"I have them figured out m'lord", you say carefully.

"Tell me then."

"This is A," you slide the apple towards him across the table. It feels a little silly. "This is B."

The way you say them isn't quite accurate. It's "bee" instead of "b" and "dee" instead of "d", but he doesn't tell you that. Your voice goes quieter with each following letter, perhaps because you're nervous or maybe simply tired — who knows what time it is by now? Ah, quarter to ten. He watches you struggle with spelling and pronunciation until finally there they are. All squares from Apple to Goat, in order just like he arranged them.

"What about this one?" Nicolae points to the playing cat.

"It starts with 'K', m'lord."

You're quite sure, not that much variation is left after all, and say it with the most conviction you can muster so he would finally be satisfied and end this odd game. Your head hurts and stomach grumbles with hunger — there was no time for the lunchbreak today —both physical and mental exhaustion blur together.

Grandfather must be worried sick by now, he hates when you're late without telling anything beforehand.

Then Marquis covers his mouth, and for the first time since you entered Albastru castle, laughs.

Not chuckles. Not smiles without smiling. Laughs that his shoulders shake, that his eyes crinkle at the corners. You stare bewildered, not knowing what to do. Laugh yourself? Smile politely? Say "m'lord" again?

Marquis' laughter dies down eventually and he collects himself, straightening his waistcoat which doesn't require any adjusting in the first place, he's perfect as always.

"No, that's C."

Your cheeks flush red, how were you supposed to know? It would seem that a gentleman such as Marquis Nicolae should know better than mocking someone's lack of education, but apparently he finds it amusing. You lower your gaze and look away.

"How are you called?" he asks.

After a pause your name rolls off your tongue; small in his bedchamber, it barely leaves an echo.

"Well, I said a treat, didn't I?"

You don't want any treats, or to spend here even a minute longer; Marquis rises and walks towards his desk.

"Come here."

Reluctantly you stand up and follow him. The linens are left on the chair in a crumpled pile, they need ironing now. There's nothing to do other than obeying so you stop next to him where he opens one of the drawers. Inside you can see something wrapped in white paper with a thin ribbon bow around it. He takes the item out and pulls the ribbon off. Delicate scent fills the air, the little cakes, you know their name from the cook ─ macarons ─ bloom inside the wrapping.

Marquis Nicolae picks one up with two fingers and brings it to your lips.

The macarons smell sweet like almonds and look beautiful like roses in his greenhouse. They're not for maids, you think, no, this is...he shouldn't be doing that.

Your mouth waters anyway.

His eyes don't leave your face, "Do you want it or not?"

You do.

"Then take a bite."

The dessert melts in your mouth instantly. Its texture is soft, like petals, like everything else luxurious you've never had but imagined countless times. A little chewy, a bit crunchy, it's the most delicious thing you've tried, better than a piece of cake taken from the kitchen pantry, better than honeyed walnut bread.

"Another one?"

Marquis Nicolae feeds you two more, before you realize what exactly is happening — a bite by a small bite your dignity dissolves into his hand. You swallow the last morsel and quickly step back; you've forgotten yourself, forgot who you were and where, and now there's sweetness lingering on your tongue, while Marquise' fingertips smell faintly of apricot.

What have you done?

He looks amused again.

"Thank you, m'lord," you curtsy, then turn around to gather the discarded sheets.

"Clean the fireplace and change the linens. Then you might be free."

"Yes, m'lord."

It's a dismissal at last.

Marquis sits down and reaches for a book — he's done with you it seems — so you hurry to complete the assigned tasks. The fireplace isn't too dirty fortunately, just some ashes and coal leftovers. Next, the sheets, then the flowers.

Before you close the door and rush down the empty hall he speaks again, "If you still remember them all by tomorrow evening, you'll have another treat."

#shalott fanfiction #yandere #original character #original work #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

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calliesmemes · 2 months

Text

ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE (2001)

SENTENCE STARTERS PULLED FROM THE DIALOGUE FEATURED IN THE ANIMATED FILM ATLANTIS: THE LOST EMPIRE, with some quotations slightly modified for roleplay purposes.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“ Uh, would you gentlemen please excuse me for a moment? ”

“ If I ever hear the word "Atlantis" again, I'll step in front of a bus! ”

“ You have a lot of potential. ”

“ Who... who are you? How did you get in here? ”

“ I'm acting on behalf of my employer, who has a most intriguing proposition for you. ”

“ Relax. He doesn’t bite … often. ”

“ Did you really know my grandfather? ”

“ We stayed close friends ‘till the end of his days. ”

“ He spoke of you often. ”

“ I've spent my whole life studying dead languages. ”

“ I will stake everything I own, everything that I believe in... that this is the genuine Shepherd's Journal. ”

“ I'll show them! I will make them believe. ”

“ For years your granddad bent my ear with stories about that old book. ”

“ Your grandpa was a great man. You probably don't realize how great. ”

“ Don't let her age fool you. ”

“ Our lives are remembered by the gifts we leave our children. ”

“ Atlantis is waiting. What do you say? ”

“ Boy, I’m so excited, l-l-l-I can't even hold it in. ”

“ Excuse me? I need to, uh, report in? ”

“ Blondie, I got a bone to pick with you. ”

“ If you're lookin' for the pony rides, they're back there. ”

“ You can’t put a price on the pursuit of knowledge. ”

“ This should be enriching for all of us. ”

“ Now tell me your story, my little friend. ”

“ This is an outrage! You must leave at once! Out, out, out, out, out! ”

“ Now, what have I told you about playing nice with the other kids? ”

“ Back to the pit from which you came! ”

“ OK, everybody. I want you to give Mr. Thatch your undivided attention. ”

“ Cartographer, linguist, plumber. Hard to believe he's still single. ”

“ Captain, you'd better come look at this, sir. ”

“ Do you want to do my job? Be my guest. ”

“ How much time do we have? ”

“ I don't think he's comin' back. ”

“ Move it, people! Sometime today would be nice! ”

“ I won't sugar-coat it, gentlemen. We have a crisis on our hands. ”

“ Looks like all our chances for survival rest with you, Mr. Thatch. ”

“ We’re all gonna die. ”

“ Looks like we have a little roadblock. ”

“ That thing is going to keep me up all night, I know it. ”

“ You know, we've been pretty tough on the kid. What do you say we cut him some slack? ”

“ Hey, Milo! Why don't you come sit with us? ”

“ Hey, Milo, don't you ever close that book? ”

“ I know, I know. Sometimes I get a little carried away. ”

“ You know, that's what this is all about, right? I mean – discovery, teamwork, adventure. Unless, maybe, you're just in it for the money. ”

“ Hey, how’d you learn how to do that? ”

“ I never got to meet your grandfather. What was he like? ”

“ He was like a father to me, really. ”

“ My parents died when I was a little kid, and he took me in. ”

“ That is so cute! ”

“ Uh, no... no offense.. but how does a teenager become the chief mechanic of a multimillion dollar expedition? ”

“ So, what... what happened to your sister? ”

“ I just like to blow things up. ”

“ All right, who's not dead? Sound off. ”

“ Maybe that's our ticket outta here. ”

“ I gotta hand it to you. You really came through. ”

“ They can smell fear just by looking at ya. ”

“ We are explorers from the surface world. We come in peace. ”

“ Come. You must speak with my father now. ”

“ Someone's having a good time. ”

“ Commander, there were not supposed to be people down here. This changes everything. ”

“ This changes nothing. ”

“ You presume much to think that you would be welcome here. ”

“ I know what you seek and you will not find it here. ”

“ Your journey has been in vain. ”

“ May I respectfully request that we stay one night, sir? ”

“ Your heart has softened, Kida. ”

“ A thousand years ago, you would have slain them on sight. ”

“ We were once a great people. Now we live in ruins. ”

“ The kings of our past would weep if they could see how far we have fallen. ”

“ Our way of life is dying. ”

“ When you take the throne, you will understand. ”

“ Well, the King and his daughter don't exactly see eye to eye. ”

“ Well, if he's hiding something, I want to know what it is. ”

“ Look, I have some questions for you, and I'm not leaving this city until they're answered! ”

“ Oh, there is so much to ask about your world. ”

“ You are a scholar, are you not? ”

“ I got a few questions for you, too. So let's do this, OK? You ask one, then I'll ask one, then you, then me, then...well, you get it. ”

“ how did you get here? Well, I mean, not you personally... but your... your culture. I mean, how did all of this end up down here? ”

“ Wh... what... what … are you telling me… that you remember what happened because you were there? No, that... that's impossible... ”

“ How was my accent? ”

“ You know, you deserve credit for even... even gettin' this far. ”

“ By the way, we were never properly introduced. My name's Milo. ”

“ Uh, hey, you got a nickname? ”

“ You know, my grandpa used to tell me stories about this place as far back as I can remember. ”

“ I just wish that he could be standing here with me. ”

“ We are not thriving. True, our people live. but our culture is dying. ”

“ I wish there was something I could do. ”

“ Why don't you lead the way, because I have no idea where we're going. ”

“ This is amazing! A complete history of Atlantis! ”

“ I am such an idiot. ”

“ This is just another treasure hunt for you. ”

“ I would've told you sooner, but it was strictly on a need-to-know basis. ”

“ Welcome to the club, son. ”

“ Mercenary? I prefer the term "adventure capitalist." ”

“ You don't know what you're tampering with, Rourke. ”

“ Academics. You never want to get your hands dirty. ”

“ I got to admit, I'm disappointed. ”

“ You're an idealist, just like your grandfather. ”

“ For once, do the smart thing. ”

“ I really hate it when negotiations go sour. ”

“ Well, as usual, diplomacy has failed us. ”

“ You've got to listen to me. You don't have the slightest idea what this power is capable of. ”

“ Let’s get this over with. I don’t like this place.

“ Doesn’t anything surprise you? ”

“ Talk to me, Thatch. What's happening? ”

“ So I guess this is how it ends, huh? ”

“ You've read Darwin. It's called natural selection. We're just helping it along. ”

“ Be serious. This is wrong, and you know it. ”

“ You pick now of all times to grow a conscience? ”

“ She has been chosen... like her mother before her. ”

“ I followed you in, and I'll follow you out. ”

“ it's been my experience that when you hit bottom, the only place left to go is up. ”

“ What do you think that you are doing? ”

“ We're going to save Atlantis, or we're going to die trying. ”

“ Well, I have to hand it to you. You're a bigger pain in the neck than I would have ever thought possible. ”

“ Tired? Aw, that's a darn shame, because I'm just getting warmed up. ”

“ There's a hero's welcome waiting for the man who discovered Atlantis. ”

“ I don't think the world needs another hero. ”

“ I'm going to miss that boy. At least he's in a better place now. ”

#askbox meme #askbox prompt #rp ask meme #ask box #roleplay sentence meme #sentence starters #roleplay prompts #roleplay sentence starters #* sentence meme #rpc help #disney rpc #indie disney rp #disney rp #historical rp #bridgerton rp #fantasy rp

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melwilson · 2 years

Text

deserving

bodyguard!courtland gentry x reader

warnings! mentions of injury and trauma

“you’re late.”

“i know. i’m sorry. got tied up.” the blonde hums as the front door shuts behind you. his eyes raked over your frame to looking for any new bruise or signs of injury. “you didn’t have to wait up for me,” you say as he comes to stand in front of you.

six rolls his eyes, taking the pile of shopping bags from your hands. “it’s my job.”

“i really hope my dad pays well,” you utter under your breath. you don’t mean for him to, but six hears you. he always does. he doesn’t respond though, mind wandering to the offshore swiss bank account that is collecting his check every week. he doesn’t need the money. when he was approached by the balding politician, he was skeptical, but it was an out- a means to the end of sierra six…even if it meant being the personal bodyguard of twenty-year-old you. it wasn’t glamorous, but it allowed him to live without looking over his shoulder and it provided him with more than enough money to take care of claire and himself.

you follow him to your room, watching as he subconsciously checks all the windows and doors that he knows are locked. occupational hazard, he would say. trauma, you would argue.

“i really am sorry for keeping you up this late,” you apologize when your eyes read the time on your bedside analogue clock. half past twelve. “we obviously did some damage,” you gesture towards the shopping bags. “had a couple drinks. lost track of time.” your best friend had suggested a shopping trip. how could you turn it down? six had insisted on going, in fact, if your dad found out that six hadn’t gone, he would lose his mind. however, you convinced the bodyguard that you would only be gone until nine. nine…conveniently turned into twelve thirty.

the glare the blonde gives you is hard enough to make you want to dig an early grave. his blue eyes are intense, staring right through you. “you’re not old enough to drink.”

you brush past him into your closet to change into your usual tee shirt and spandex. “if i can sign up to die for my country, i think i can have a drink every once and awhile.”

court doesn’t argue with your point, he simply replies with, “you should’ve called me, y/n.”

when you exit the closet, you’re met with concerned eyes. “i’m okay, court. one night without you didn’t kill me.” he raises an eyebrow and you send back a begrudging look. “i promise to call next time.”

he nods, satisfied. you both know you are very capable of protecting yourself, but six took your safety seriously. the first month of his stay included you learning about situational awareness and the basics of krav maga. you were strong, more than able to overtake the average sized military aged male. six was hired, however, because the people who wanted to hurt your father were relentless and better than the military. they were men like him. machines. killers. you couldn’t handle yourself against men like him and that is what six was scared of. he cared about you just as much as he cared about claire. and vice versa.

you had taken a liking to your short-lipped, blonde shadow. after a year of him being around, he had become the closest thing you had to family. he had truly seen you at your best and at your worst. he celebrated your birthday with you, listened to you vent about celebrity drama, held you when your sister left, became a punching bag when you were angry. he was the only person who knew where your birthmark was and snuck you out when you wanted to get a new tattoo. the first one had been a crescent moon on your left shoulder. the most recent was the number six permanently etched into the smooth of your wrist. the blonde thought it was a joke and proceeded to lecture you the whole ride home when he realized it wasn’t. he said it was foolish. you thought it was touching. that was your first argument. what he failed to realize was that he was everything your family wasn’t. he was present, available, he listened, made stupid jokes, gave terrible advice, but he was always there for you.

“we’re staying in tomorrow,” six informs heading for your door. he intends to check the the grounds one more time.

“wait.” his shoes making a squeaking sound on your hardwood floors as he stops. “i got you something.”

six watches as you dig through the pile of massive shopping bags on your floor. the first thing you throw at him is a four pack of gum. “island berry lime, watermelon wave, pineapple twist, splashing mint. what happened to perfect wintergreen peppermint?”

“discontinued,” you mutter finally finding what you were actually looking for.

six hums in surprise. “i kinda liked that one.”

“well, i hope you like this a little bit more.” your usual mischievous glint is replaced with one of adoration. six is skeptical, but takes the small black box from your hands. you rock back on your heels, nervous.

“y/n,” six says, “what is this?”

“what do you mean? it’s a watch.”

“a really expensive watch,” he shoots back. hublot, orlinski titanium, $15,000.

“whatever,” you shrug, “look at the back.”

VI ; six

the cardinal number between five and seven.

a small smile creeps onto his lips as he reads the engraving. “what is this for?”

“because i like seeing you smile and because you deserve something better then the crappy one you’re wearing right now.”

the word deserve was one that six battled with. he had never felt deserving of anything in his life. he had always thought that the people he had been sent to hunt truly deserved to die, but what about him? what did he deserve? for years he existed in a world beyond the walls of normal life where the word deserve didn’t exist. but now as a civilian, he could think about the things that he wanted and the life he wanted to live. you were apart of that life- not romantically of course, but rather as a reminder that he deserved good things.

he shakes his head trying to hide his smile and sets down the watch. “c’mere.” you raise a skeptical eyebrow and he insists, “come here.”

he opens his arms and you step into them, humming as he wraps you in his warmth. “thank you,” he utters softly. “i mean it.”

you lean back to place a soft kiss to his jaw. “you deserve it, court.”

#courtland gentry x reader #courtland gentry #sierra six x reader #sierra six the gray man #sierra six #courtland gentry blurb #court gentry #ryan gosling the gray man #ryan gosling #lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #lloyd hansen

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