#I wanted to do something creepy or something like that.
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CRUEL BEYOND MY YEARS . . . you do the impossibleーyou make dazai feel. that’s why you’re his, you just don’t know it yet.
ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, chuuya is there too, so are oda and ango, jealousy & possessive behavior, some descriptions of depression & violence, 2.4k w.c.
EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST
dazai knows he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.
he yawns, hands behind his head in a makeshift pillow, overgrown legs hanging off the arm of the couch as he stretches out. the heels of his shoes graze his jacket, haphazardly tossed aside when he first came into his office and laid down.
even with the sleep mask covering his face, blocking out the sun that pools into the top floors of port mafia’s headquarters, he knows it’s you who’s approaching his door.
he fights back a smile, something he rarely has the opportunity to do. he keeps his breathing steady and deep as he hears the familiar rhythm of your knuckles against his office door, knocking in a code. you both came up with it when you were younger, freshly sixteen against the hallow walls of his shipping container; your own shared secret. he hears the gentle creak of the old wood as you peek inside.
“dazai?” he hears the soft sound of your footsteps as you come closer, then a sigh he’d recognize anywhere. “dazai. take that thing off. it’s creepy.”
he remains still. he’s supposed to be asleep, after all.
“i see mr. executive is as busy as always,” you say sarcastically, but he can still hear the smile in your voice. you slip your thumb under the soft cotton padding of the sleep mask and slide it up his face, pushing his bangs back. the soft glide of your skin against his forehead leaves tingles in its wake, and it’s easy enough to ignore the burn of his one visible eye adjusting to the bright afternoon light when you’re hovering over him like an angel. “don’t you want to say goodbye to me?”
a new mission. he sighs exhaustedly, as if was the one who was assigned. “how long will you be gone this time?”
“not long, probably,” your hip presses against his as you sit on the edge of the couch. you rest your cheek on your hand, arm bridged over his stomach as your elbow props on the backrest. “chuuya got assigned to it with me. him and i make a good team.”
“you shouldn’t hang around him so much,” he tilts his head back. “you should be careful. he eats dog food, you know. he really is a dog, isn’t he?”
“shut up,” you laugh, and the sound makes his heartbeat quicken without his permission. “i know that isn’t true.”
“it is!” he sits up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes, his own shimmering with mirth. “i even saw him do it. you trust me, don’t you?”
you flick his forehead, giggling as you stand back up and straighten your skirt. “you’re just jealous you don’t get to come on this mission with us.”
with us? dazai swears he could be sick and die right there on the couch, as if there even was a ‘you and chuuya’. the thought alone makes him nearly double over in pain. if anything, it should be him you were paired up with, and if you asked for his opinion, it was a joke that you weren’t by defaultー even if little assignments like this were below him now that he’s an executive. no one else knew you as well as he did, and no one else ever would; besides, he’d known you longer than that stupid slug. mori’s negligence on the matter makes his stomach churn and his skin prickle uncomfortably.
“hey,” he grabs onto your jacket sleeve, where the cuffs are still a little too long and the fabric hangs over your wrists, before you can walk away. “be careful.”
you smile at him brightly, giving him a thumbs up, but it barely fazes him. he watches you leave, gaze dark and mouth firm. something bitter starts to crawl up his stomach, growing in his chest like thorned vines intertwining and tightening around his ribs.
when mori first introduced you and dazai to one another, you were both fourteen years old. the first thing he noticed when he saw you was that your clothing was too big, hanging awkwardly off your body. you’ve both grown since then, nearly identical black jackets and ties over white button-downs adorning your frames. the second thing he noticed was that you were different from him; he could tell from your eyes, bright and glistening.
he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t burdened by the feeling of looking through a window, always a spectator. you were different; you had a seat at the table. every bomb placed, every trigger pulledー you were there with him through it all, with the same fucked up feeling of adrenaline pounding through your veins, except you were attached to the world around you. you saw meaning in it somehow.
he wants to pick you apart piece by piece and study you under a microscope. he wants to understand just what it is about you that makes you so intriguing. what do you know that he doesn’t?
how are you making him feel this way?
he thinks about you on your mission, even when he tries not to. he flips through his paperwork lazily, pulling sheets from their stapled packets and folding them into origami shapes. he stares at his finger when he gets a paper cut on the edge of a report about some dispute in kyoto, watching the blood dribble down his skin in small beads. he raids the infirmary for chemicals, slipping past the nurses and picking the lock to the medicine cabinet, pocketing bottles and extra rolls of bandages. he plays on his handheld console, sighing in frustration when his character dies again; if only it was so easy.
it’s nearing the latest hours of the night when he decides to sneak into your office that he finds you again, back from your mission and chatting with chuuya, who’s arms are crossed as he leans against the edge of your desk. dazai skims his eyes over you, noting with satisfaction that there seem to be no new visible injuries on you. he relishes in how chuuya’s brows furrow when he sees him, and how yours rise in delight, cheeks rounding in a smile. he throws his arms around your shoulders, your faces close enough for him to count your eyelashes as you tilt your head back to look at him.
“i hope you didn’t have too much fun without me,” he pouts, squeezing you against his chest. “did you keep chuuya on his leash during your mission?”
“don’t talk about me like i’m not here, idiot.”
“oh, there you are,” he eyes the aforementioned man lazily, as if he were a bug that landed near him. “i almost missed you because you’re so small.”
“i fell asleep right after we were done,” you giggle. “chuuya had to carry me back.”
“oh?” he tightens his arms. dazai always thought you were the cutest post-mission, all sleepy and touchy; he always made sure he was around for those moments. “did he?”
you’re talking, something else about the mission, but he doesn’t listen. chuuya looks from you to him when he feels his gaze, eyebrow raising in a silent question. they screw up in irritation when dazai’s eyes narrow as his lips curl up into a cruel grin. he cranes his neck down, nose grazing your temple before he drags his tongue across your cheek.
“ew, dazai!” you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t go far, still clinging to you tightly. “what the hell? you’re so gross!”
he laughs in your ear, even as you try to pry his hands off his shoulders. you twist your hand around his wrist, tugging on it and glaring at him over your shoulder.
“let go, dazai.”
you’ve only ever looked at him like this when he woke you up in the middle of the night, knocking over one of your chairs after he broke into your apartment; you weren’t able to fall back asleep for hours, and when you finally woke up the next day, you realized he ate the last of the mapo tofu in your fridge.
he loosens his arms, stumbling when you shove him. the feeling of your hands pushing him away is nowhere near as warm as when you brushed his hair back earlier that day. there’s no pretty, warm smile dimpling your cheeks either; just your back retreating from your office, the sound of your door slamming shut, and chuuya’s annoyed glare prickling his skin. his chest tightens.
the flickering light of bar lupin’s sign penetrates the foggy night air, like a lighthouse calling lost ships home. ango and oda are already inside when dazai arrives. a cigarette dribbles loose curls of smoke into the air as ango cradles his glass between his palms and oda tilts his head back to sip his whiskey. the bar’s most devoted patron hops from dazai’s seat knowingly, landing on his little white paws as dazai sits down on the stool with a huff.
he rests his chin against his forearm, sighing into his elbow as the bartender places his usual in front of him wordlessly. the two older men look at the pouty pile of messy hair between them. oda knows he’s waiting for one of them to ask, so he does. “did something happen today, dazai?”
“yes,” he bounces the sphere of ice against the bottom of the glass, feeling his fingertip go numb. “she’s mad at me.”
“what did you do now?” ango eyes him wearily from behind his glasses.
“how rude,” he says flatly, his voice sounding hollow without his usual playfulness. “immediately assuming i’m at fault.”
“aren’t you always?” he sighs into the rim of his glass, taking a long sip.
they both wait in silence before dazai shoots up in his seat, his stool spinning slightly.
“how can that stupid slug touch what’s mine?”
“‘yours’?” ango asks, a thin eyebrow raised. “people don’t own other people.”
“i didn’t know you two were dating,” oda says.
“we’re not,” dazai sags back down, folding his arms and laying his head down so his eyes are level with his glass again. “that’s gross.”
“you’re not?” oda repeats. “…then why are you upset?”
he feels the bandages around his eyes loosen as he turns his head away, squishing his cheek into his elbow. the cat licks his paws across the bar, before reaching up and rubbing his little face. he catches dazai’s gaze, looking at him with big, round, unblinking eyes. his chest tightens again.
the sun is rising, melting the black of the night sky to gold when dazai arrives at your apartment. his hand freezes inside his pocket, fingers wrapped around his lock pick, glancing back to your door. he lets it go and knocks instead, beating his knuckles against the wood in your secret code.
you’re in your pajamas when you open the door, and he notes the bruise on your leg that was hidden under your work uniform. he looks at you like a lost puppy; ears down, eyes big, with his tail between his legs.
“hey,” your eyes dart along his body, and he knows you’re scanning him for injuries too. “you okay?”
he doesn’t reply, and you let him meekly slip past you into your apartment. your blanket is pooled on the floor from where you were sitting at your coffee table, chopsticks and a bowl of stir fry waiting for you; the schedule of a mafiosa has your circadian rhythm flipped, eating dinner as the sun rises.
“did you eat anything yet?” you ask him, sitting back on the ground.
his big brown eyes blink down at you emptily.
you open the side of your blanket expectantly, scooting over to make space for him. you nudge your food between the two of you when he sits beside you. his stomach flutters as he thinks about you feeding him from your chopsticks, a hand cupped under his chin, your soft thumb brushing his lips as you wipe them clean. he ignores it, plucking a shrimp out of your bowl with his fingers instead.
“you can have the rest,” you bundle the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, sighing softly as you lay your head down on his shoulder. “i made extra. i knew you’d come over.”
“you did?”
“mhm,” you rub your thumb along the edge of his bandages where his palm and wrist meet absentmindedly. “i know you.”
you do, scarily so. you like your stir fry spicy, but you kept it mild for him. because you knew he’d come over. because you knew he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. because he only ever gets a home cooked meal when you make one for him.
“‘m sorry.” he mumbles, voice barely audible.
you tilt your head up and look at him, eyes heavy. he holds his breath as you lift your hand and cup his cheek, tracing the dark circle under his one visible eye with the pad of your thumb.
“let’s go to bed,” your voice is soft in the way it always is when you’re tired. “we can still sleep a little before we have to go back to headquarters.”
he knows every inch of your apartment, but he still lets you guide him into the dark of your room, and he’s suddenly surrounded by everything that is so quintessentially you. he has it all committed to memory: the title of the book on your nightstand you swear you’ll finish, the delicate splay of jewelry on your dresser, the pajama shorts hanging over the side of your hamper in the corner.
you practically collapse, falling into your bed and splaying your limbs with a happy sigh while he carefully lies down, staring at the ceiling and keeping his hands to himself. it’s after a few quiet moments when he feels something warm against him, and when he turns to look at you, his breath catches in his throat.
you’re so much closer to him than anyone else would ever dare to be. you curl towards him even in your sleep, like a sunflower growing towards the sun. your arm reaches towards his, fingers loosely clinging to his sleeve, as if you wanted to keep him anchored to the bed with you. he could almost make himself believe you really wanted him there.
he watches the daylight fall over your face, just as delicate as the sheet you draped over your body, still thin enough to show off the contour of your legs. you look so relaxed, cheeks full of color with the shadow of your lashes resting against them.
you looked so alive. so human.
his chest tightens.
BSD MASTERLIST
taglist . . . @little-miss-chaoss @almond-t0fu @yaeeko @annoyingpainterprincess @callm3-tash1 @janbannan @snowsilver2000
#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#dazai x you#bsd x you#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd imagines#dazai imagines#dazai fluff#bsd fluff
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oh my gosh. what if vampy!reader wanted to go on like a late night walk and take rafe with her and like it’s kinda creepy but it’s her vibe and rafe is the scared one!! so cute i think!
~ 🧸
omg sorry i feel like i havent posted in forever kinda going through a writing stump :( hehe he wasn’t like super scared ?? hope u like it still tho!! sorry it’s a short one >.< kinda inspired by the fact i saw bats last night
“come onnn, don’t be scaredy cat.” you press, already slipping into your thick platforms — rafe tucking in his gun at his waistband secretly. “i’m not— i’m not some bitch. and take those off. it’s dangerous.”
“how is it dangerous?” you giggle, taking a look at yourself in the mirror and fixing your hair. “you can’t run in them,” he continues, already scavenging in your closet in hopes he’ll find a pair of sneakers in the clash of heels. but alas, the only pair he seems to find is a pair of old converse covered in doodles and drawings. “here, look.”
“i don’t even think those fit me anymore, my love. i promise im fine, i can run in these!” you assure, taking his hand in yours. “can we please go now? i wanna show you something.”
⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪
“so.. so why do you like doing this?” rafe whispers, the crunchy sounds of leaves being crushed underneath his shoes making him soothe. almost, anyway. the dimness of the street lights only fighting against it. “cause i wanna show you something,” you repeat, hands wrapped in rafe’s sweaty ones — leading the way.
“yeah.. you see uh, you keep saying that but—” he halts, a small fluttering sound passing with a small squeal above him making him tense. “what the fuck was that?”
“look up,” you giggle, pointing at the small creature that flies across the sky. “is that a bat?”
you nod, humming softly as you lead him to a tree stump, sitting him down. “they're my favorite.” you confess, a tiny cheeky smile that rafe could barely see on your face, stars creating a very soft light. the oldest cameron chuckles softly, nodding and sitting you down on his lap — making sure you’re not too close to feel the bulge of his weapon. “you're my favorite.”
#anon#vampy!reader#rafe ౨ৎ#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe obx#rafe x reader#rafe x you#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe imagine#outerbanks rafe#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey smut#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey fanfic#drew starkey fanfiction#outerbanks smut#outerbanks imagine#outerbanks x reader#outerbanks fic#rafe cameron thoughts
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I probably still wouldn’t have been a big fan of the game, but I don’t think I would have been NEARLY as upset about TotK if BotW didn’t seem like it was so obviously setting up plot points for a sequel. Like, you’re very clearly MEANT to wonder what malice is, and how Ganon became the Calamity instead of just the Demon King. Fi is awake again, where are they going either that? What’s the deal with the Triforce-shaped symbol on Zelda’s hand? There were a LOT of other things like that, and many of them had to do with overarching lore for the series.
I get it if they want to reboot the series, but “BotW 2” was the single worst game you could have done that with. It could have been an amazing conclusion to the original continuity.
EXACTLY, you, you get it
botw felt like the introduction to a vast world with secrets and hints to things that were planned to become a bigger thing- a big giant game as a big giant set up, and then ... like totk likes to do alot, it lacks a pay off, and that is something it even does within itself, cosntantly, set up and no pay off, or set up and the most boring and uninspired pay off you can really not even call that, from the bigger things like the whole dragon thing being hammered into your head as irreversible and then it IS reversible.. out of nowhere without you having to do fuck all, the whole thing with the ancient hero beign a big mystery with lots of interesting ideas attached and then its some weird ass dog creature that doesnt resemble any other race with, of course, sonau armor, bc there nothing that isnt sonau in that game, even finding the old treasure maps you can find that then lead to amiibo stuff from botw id call that
botw wasnt that great with rewards either but exploring the world and wondering about those, surely intentionally, placed mysterious and intriguing designs and places did alot for making it so interesting to think about, totk fumbles it all and even the new stuff doesnt even come close to that environmental storytelling botw was so great at, sonau ruins? ha they look entirely different than in botw actually, bc those were built by hylians you see, the actual sonau stuff is in prime condition considering the time thats passed and its all the same blank blocky blocks that serve no purpose but to be a place for you to find a thing or exchange some currency- the most you can think about it is ... that the sonau hollowed out the entire underground of hyrule, every inch of the map, ... which is WEIRD and doesnt exactly make them look that good but ... thats all there is
at least with the shiekah it made somewaht more sense and it felt much less .. invasive? and you didnt have anyone from that time to talk to, other than dead monks whos only purpose is to give you their last piece of their own spirit, but in totk ... raurus ghost and mineru too are both just there to talk to but DONT tell you shit but vague hints that were already clear, the sky islands used to be on the ground? oh you dont say, you see them there in the stupid memories! and dont get to know how they got up there and theres nothing that can clue you in to that, its just sonau magic yet again i guess
dont even get me started on the whole malice/miasma thing, it made so much SENSE that there was a source of it, someone that has keep kept in a horrible place just between life and death for thousands of years trying to break free by their hate and anger manifesting to such a degree its literally spilling out and building creppy eyeballs, mouths and ribcage like structures like they are trying to rebuild themsleves outside of their awful prison no one knows about is so damn compelling, but no, actually, the guy trapped there was the msot evilest evar, was sealed bc him evil and no other motive, and the previously mentioned stuff is pretty much utterly unceonnected, and his magic beign miasma with red instead of pink and no creepy body parts was the true version of it, that pink one was its own thing heehooo SHUT UP argh
it doesnt help that really, i dont feel like the sonau were set up either, they were a tiny part in botw, really only serving to make the world seem more ancient and more full of history, having ruins from a past civilization there you know nothing about and cant find out more is so good, its compelling and sad and makes the world feel more real, just shoving them into everything, being the center of attention all of thes udden and not even the architecure fitting feels so ... forced, i really truly believe the og sonau werent meant to be more than that, but in their fear of the game being too similarly looking like botw they took the sonau to replace the shiekah with them-
imo the shiekah were the ones set up to be deeper explored in botw, with their whole misstreatment by the royal family in the past, monk miz kyoshia reacting the same way a yiga commander would was deliberate and brings up even more interesting ideas, the comments about where the mysterious energy the ancient shiekah used to power everything being concentrated in certain regions?? thats a big ass set up, the fact that the center of what is signaling everything to reactivate being below hyrule castle? the fact the whole arena thing was BUILT INTO THE CASTLE or it on top of it is so??? cool??? and sso damn intriguing, we are scratching the surface of their history- but then no, actually, the sonau are the cool new shit those other ones just uh ... disappear, also the sonau did everythign the shiekah did but even better wayy before them haha
its like they didnt want to tackle the more complicated stuff with the shiekah, their relationship to the royal family and how the yiga ... have a point and a good reason- so they replaced them with entirely new purely goodest good guys that did the same stuff before them with none of the history attached :))
this is why im so insistent on it not really being a sequel, thers no follow up on anything that was set up, NOTHING, and no, a couple having a kid now or whatever isnt a follow up on an interesting set up, how hard is it to understand that-
.... listen to me rambling, you probably know all that already nhjdfkbnkd
(i know i always bring up the shiekah but ... they were so central in botw, while also not taking up every single corner- unlike some other ones >_____>, with so much interesting stuff to connect and think about, i cared about them so much i felt kicked down the stairs by their treatment in totk)
#ganondoodles answers#ganondoodles rants#zelda#totk#totk critical#maybe its jsut me that feels so strongly about the unanswered stuff around the shiekah#but im#biting wood and clawing up the walls in my head
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Retirement Party
Chapter Three - Smoke and Whiskey
<< First Chapter - < Prev Chapter -
Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco, cannabis), plus-sized reader, female reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me.
~3.2k
When you go back inside, you wind up wedged between John and Ghost on the bigger couch. Johnny’s stretched out on the smaller one, and Gaz claimed the chair that you’d been sitting in earlier, leaving you with no other option. Neither of them makes any effort to give you more space, even though they could. Ghost’s leg is pressed against yours from thigh to ankle, and John’s pinky finger keeps finding your thigh when he rests his tumbler against his knee. You want to curl up properly, tuck your feet up underneath yourself, but you can't without pressing even closer to at least one of them. At least Ghost isn’t quite as intimidating without his mask on.
After a while, Gaz and Ghost go out for a cigarette. The chair looks inviting, and you’d like to get a little space, but Price’s arm drops around your shoulders casually, pulling you in a little closer to his side. “Relax,” he says against the top of your head. “You’re alright, doll.”
The door opens again. “Soap, we’ve got a spliff, you want?” Gaz asks.
Johnny picks himself off the other couch, grinning. “Aye. An’ then cake?”
“Fuckin’ forgot about cake,” Ghost says. “Hey doll, d’you want some of this? Cap?”
“Who rolled it?” John asks. “Because I’m not smoking one of Gaz’s joints ever again.”
“Oh fuck off, Price, I can roll just fine.”
John looks at you and shakes his head slightly. “He really can’t.”
“I can roll,” you say. “I always do with my friends.”
You can see the calculation running behind John's eyes as he adds new information to what he knows and assumes about you. You want to laugh. You almost do. Most people take one look at you, with your big doe eyes and round face and and sunny disposition and think that you're some innocent little thing. Sure, you tend to live life with your arms open, and that might come across as naive to some, but you're not inexperienced by any means. You're nearly thirty years old, you're by no means a child.
"Let's see, then," he says. "Box on the coffee table has everything."
"Does tha' mean we can smoke inside again?" Soap asks. "It's startin' ta get pure Baltic out here."
John looks at you expectantly. "Up to you, doll."
"It's not my house."
He hums. "You're stayin' a while. Might as well be. It's important that you're comfortable."
You slide to the floor and reach for the box. "Well. You'd better open a window or two. But I don't mind."
Making a fuss over the semantics isn't worth doing. You probably are staying a while. Even if John really won't force you, you'll still need his cooperation to get all your stuff loaded back into the van, and all four of them are likely headed for hangovers.
John tells them to open the windows, and leans forward to watch you break up slightly sticky buds into the grinder. He brushes your hair behind your shoulders for you, and when you tip your head back to look at him, there's something in his eyes that makes your ears warm.
Johnny drops down to the floor on the other side of the table, a crumpled looking joint hanging out of his mouth. You can see what John means about not wanting to smoke it.
"You want a drink, doll?" Gaz asks. "More tea?"
You twist to look at him, hanging over the back of the couch, that handsome face smiling. "Have you got pop? Wouldn't mind a ginger ale."
"Got irn bru too," Soap suggests. "Ye've got some Scot in ye, aye?"
"Yes."
"Didja want more?"
You level an unimpressed look at him across the table. "I should've seen that one coming."
"I'd like to see ye com--"
"That'll do, Soap," John says firmly. "She's not goin' to have sex with you."
"Might feel a bit better if she did," Soap says, shrugging. "Ah'm just sayin'."
"You're not saying anything." Gaz sets an unopened can of ginger ale on the table next to you. "If you're gagging for it, we'll take care of you in a bit."
"And if you don't behave yourself you're not goin' to get anything," John rumbles from behind you. "She's been good. Surprised none of you have been slapped."
"Just the once." Gaz snags the joint from Johnny and sits back in the chair.
Ghost snorts. "What did you do?"
"Surprised her picking her up. My own fault."
You lean back and hold up the neat joint you've been rolling, hooking your arm over John's knee. He sets his whiskey to the side and takes it, holding it up for an inspection. "Nice work, doll," he says warmly. “Got a bit of a wild streak to you, eh?”
The praise makes you glow, despite yourself, and you laugh aloud at the second part, a real laugh, not nervous or bitter. All four of them shift their attention to you at the sound, snapping a tension you hadn’t noticed until you felt it’s absence. It’s important to them that you feel comfortable, and your genuine laughter is the first sign that you’re on your way. They really did think that they’d done you a favour.
Insane. But almost sweet, in a fucked up, unsettling way.
You pluck the joint out of John’s fingers and meet his dark blue eyes evenly, not missing the hunger that sparks into existence. “Got a light?”
John pulls his lighter out of his pocket, a little awkward with you leaning on his other leg, and holds the dancing flame out for you. You have to lean in a little to get to it, so you do, your eyes still locked on his as you inhale, the slight sizzle of paper and weed igniting clear in the otherwise silent room. You can hear the way his breath catches too, taken by surprise yet again. You offer the joint back to him, holding in a lungful of smoke.
“Shite,” Johnny hisses, breaking the heavy silence. “Yer absolutely sure ye dinnae want your cunt licked?”
You blow smoke at him from across the coffee table. “I’m sure.”
It doesn’t take long before drowsy complacency overtakes you. Curling up against John’s leg, your arm still hooked over his leg, you let conversation wash over your awareness, not paying enough attention to pick out one thing or another. John’s hand settles on your head, fingers threading into your dark hair, combing through soft strands idly. When you glance up at him, he’s watching you, blue eyes half-lidded but still plenty aware, a funny smile twisting the edges of his mouth upwards. He has nice lips under that bristling moustache of his, not as thin as you would have expected. His voice is a pleasant rumble when he speaks to the others,
He takes a sip of whiskey, and you follow the bob of his throat as he swallows, the way the tip of his tongue darting across his lips. It takes a moment for you to realize that he’s watching you study him.
“Hello, beautiful,” he says. “How are you feeling?”
For the first time since you’ve been there, you don’t feel scared. Just dozy and content, like a cat curled up next to a fireplace. “I’m alright,” you admit. “It’s been a strange day.”
His fingers flex, not quite gripping your hair, just holding you in place with the lightest pressure, encouraging you to keep facing him rather than turning away. “I imagine so.” His hand glides along to your ear, his thumb grazing over the shell, sending shivers down your spine. “It won’t be so strange tomorrow.”
“No more surprises planned?”
John glances up, looking at each of his men in turn, and then back to you. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“We do have cake, though,” Soap says. “Ye want some, bonnie?”
“Yes please.” You only turn to look at Soap for a moment before John is gently coaxing you back, curling his fingers around your jaw. Can he feel the way your heart leaps into your throat, thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings? It’s hard to look John in the eye, but harder still to pull yourself away. His touch leaves burning traces behind, and you’re all too aware of your body and the way you respond to him. It’s all too much, too soon and too strange.
He catches your hand when you try to brush his away. “Why don’t you come on back up here, doll?” he asks. “Be more comfortable than the floor, don’t you think?”
“No, I’m happy down here.” You tuck your knees to your chest, looping your arms around your legs, extricating yourself from his sphere of influence just a little. You’re still pressed up against his calf, but you don’t need to go that far, you just need to face forward so you won’t get pinned under that blue stare again.
John has a certain gravity, a magnetism that you can’t help but be drawn in by. It would be all too easy to sink into his arms, but the idea that you’d been given to him still bothers you, like a persistent, sharp little stone in your shoe, ruining what might have been something.
You perk up some when Soap hands you a plate with a slice of chocolate cake on it. It's not the prettiest thing you've ever seen, but it tastes incredible, rich dark chocolate and an icing that had so much whiskey in it that your teeth feel funny after a few bites.
"This is really good, Johnny," you tell him. "If the whole military thing doesn't work out, you could consider becoming a baker."
"Thanks, hen. And dinnae think I havena considered it. Gettin' closer to packin' it in awl the time. Just cannae leave Gaz until he's got a good team watchin' his back."
"We've got some good sergeants," Gaz says. "Nitro's got real promise."
"Shivs too. Little devil," Ghost adds. "You need a door smasher though. Those girls are tough as 'ell, but some occasions call for a big boot."
"Aye, ye'd say that, bein' the biggest fuckin' boot the Queen's army has ever seen."
"King now," John points out.
"Oh, fuck if I care which poncy arsed Windsor is sittin' in the big chair."
"Bloody leeches," Ghost agrees.
"I've got Sanderson in mind." Gaz winks at you, like you're in on some secret.
"Gary Sanderson? Is he no' dead?"
"No! Turns out he locked himself in a cryo chamber when the bomb went off. That facility was full of 'em, all kinds of experimental tech. It was finally safe to take a team in and we found him. Nitro started calling him Roach, and it's stuck."
"He's a damn good soldier. Be good for the taskforce," Price agrees. "Would've picked him ten years ago."
"Well, he's had a nice long nap, and he's hopping mad about missing so much. He'll make a good doorsmasher," Gaz says.
"How about that Lucky kid? Nitro’s brother.” Price asks. “He looked pretty promising. Unless his luck ran out.”
Gaz hums, licking frosting off his fork. “He’s a good kid, but his problem is that as soon as Nitro’s around he lets her do all his thinking for him. Splits her focus.”
You sigh, setting your half-finished slice of cake down on the table in front of you, and climb to your feet, wincing at the ache of not moving for so long. You edge between Ghost’s knees and the coffee table and skirt around the edge of the couch wordlessly. No one stops you, and there’s no falter to their conversation despite the eyes that follow you until you disappear upstairs to use the washroom.
As you wash your hands, you stare at your own face in the mirror. You look pretty, even with your eyeliner a little smudged, and your lipstick faded to nothing. The buzz of THC is your system makes you giggle. Pretty enough to kidnap, even.
You think about it for a long moment, and then take your makeup off and braid your hair back so you can wash your face properly, and brush your teeth too. All the weirdness of the day is catching up, and all you want to do is sleep it off. The low buzz of their voices carries up the stairs when you step out into the hallway again, seemingly unbothered by your absence. There's no reason for you to say goodnight-- you don't owe them any kind of civility. But you still hesitate.
Long enough that John appears at the bottom of the stairs. "You alright, doll?" He asks. "Comin' back down?" The stairs creak slightly under his weight as he starts coming up towards you.
"I was thinking-- I'm just tired, is all. It's been a long day."
He stops two steps down, so he's still looking up at you. "I understand. We can talk more in the morning."
"I'm sure there's a lot to discuss."
"If you say so. Already told you most of what I needed to tell."
"Just most?"
He nods, and beckons you closer, a conspiratorial smile on his face. You take one halting step toward him, and then another, until you stand right at the top of the stairs. His big hands catch yours, holding you in place when he moves one step up, taller than you once more.
You stare up at him, and your breathing is turned shallow, your heartbeat rapid and heady. His eyes glitter in the dim light as he leans close, the tip of his nose skimming yours, as if he means to kiss you. Like a deer pinned under the headlights of a rapidly approaching truck, you stand frozen, unsure if you even want to move, or if you welcome the inevitable collision.
He smells like smoke and whiskey when he speaks, his lips so close to yours you can feel the soft brush of breath on your skin. "Forgot to tell you how good you look in my shirt," he purrs. "Been thinkin' to say so all night."
Heat licks across your cheeks, his words waking something dangerous in your core, something that wants his hands on you more than anything else. It’s unfair, what he does to you already, barely more than a stranger, and you want him to be a good man so you can indulge that desire without fear of consequence. It’s been such a long time since someone looked at you the way he looks at you now, an almost indescribable fondness that you haven’t even begun to earn.
“It’s a nice shirt,” you say lamely. “Thank you for lending it to me.” You don’t mention that it smells very pleasantly like him, and how it’s been a bit difficult to keep yourself from sniffing at the flannel all evening.
“You’re welcome to anything I have,” he says, and you know he means it.
“I hope that includes your bed,” you say jokingly, trying (and failing) to diffuse the intensity in his eyes. “Because I think that’s where I’m headed now.”
“Of course it does.” His thumb rubs across your knuckles, the other hand coming up to cradle your cheek. You shake, all nerves, worried that he’ll close the distance and kiss you, but he just taps his forehead against yours instead, eyes smiling. “Off you go, sweet thing. You give us a shout if we get too loud, eh?”
You swallow nervously and nod, taking a step backwards. “Goodnight, John.”
"Goodnight, doll.”
You quickly shut yourself into the other room, flicking on the light while you strip down to your panties and wrap the flannel shirt around yourself again, and tuck yourself into bed. It’s been a bizarre day, and the room feels strange, too open and too dark, but it still doesn’t take long to fall asleep.
Hours later, you wake at the sound of the door opening and clicking shut again. You sit up before you’re fully alert, dreams shredding apart and solidifying into reality as you blink away sleep.
“Shh, s’just me,” John’s voice comes out of the darkness, slurring slightly. You can’t see anything in the darkness, until he crosses over to the window and opens the curtains, letting in a little light from the waxing moon outside. He turns towards her, his big frame silhouetted against the scant light, humming. “Bloody hell, you’re a pretty little thing.” The soft clink of his belt buckle is far too loud in the quiet room, as is the rustle of his clothes as he strips down to his boxers.
“John, what are you doing?” you ask nervously.
“Coming to bed,” he says, like it’s obvious. “M’too old to sleep on the floor, and Gaz is on the big couch.”
“Oh. I’ll move then. I don’t mind sleeping on the floor.” You throw back the sheets and swing your legs onto the floor.
“No, no, stay right where you are.” He swoops over and grips your legs gently, lifting them up and back onto the bed. He smells strongly of whiskey and mint toothpaste, and the clinging remnants of cigar smoke. “We can share tonight. Get things set up better tomorrow.”
“John…”
He slides into bed beside you and easily pulls you close, strong arms wrapping around you tightly, rolling so you’re half on top of him, one hand cradling your back and the other on your waist. “Yeah, doll?” he asks.
“John, we can’t— I can’t sleep like this.”
“Shh, just give me a minute to hold my pretty girl.” He nuzzles against the top of your head. “I’m gonna be so good to you, sweetheart. I promise.”
"You're drunk," you say, holding the flimsy excuse out for him, hoping that he'll take it. You don't want to think about him meaning it. It makes going home look all the more unlikely.
"A little," he admits. His hand drifts lower, fingers dipping below the soft lace of your panties to dig into soft skin around your hip. He groans. "You're perfect. Sweet and soft, so damn beautiful. I'll make you happy. I'll give you anything you want, if you stay with me."
"John! Stop that, we can talk later, just go to sleep."
"I know this all started wrong, doll. The lads got carried away. But this is right. You feel that too, don't you? We'll have to come up with a better story for our kids, hm? Something proper romantic." He kisses the top of your head, humming happily.
"Our kids?" you squeak. "Jesus, John, you can't be serious."
"Course I am. We can start trying whenever you're ready."
Well, at least now you know he's just as delusional as the rest of them. "You don't even know if I want kids."
"You do," he says confidently. "Tell me I'm wrong."
"You're drunk," you say firmly. "Go to sleep."
He chuckles. "You didn't say I'm wrong."
You push away and roll over so you don't have to look right at him. Even in the darkness, you're certain that your face betrays more than you'd like. It was none of his business if you wanted kids. You certainly weren't going to have them with him. "Go to sleep," you repeat.
"Yes ma'am," he says, looping his arms around you again, tugging you close to his chest. "Goodnight, doll."
Thanks for reading!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
#cod mw fanfiction#cave writing#John Price x Reader#x reader#dark fic#This chapter was so hard to write so I'm sorry if it's not as good#but the good news is that the next chapter is already finished! So I'll post it tomorrow#John you are so awful I hate you what is wrong with you#Also: I have like 4k of two lil Nitro fics because she captured my heart so we have that to look forward to as well#Anyway enjoy!#Retirement Party#Retirement Party Chapter 3#Initially forgot a readmore lmao
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1.2 Bucky
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, some mild derogatory language against women, by women.
Word Count: 960
Previously On...: Natasha Romanoff invited you out to meet her single Avenger teammates. There's only one she warned you to stay away from...
A/N: For Bucky and Lily's POV sections, Major is referred to by name, and without use of you/your. It just made my life easier, lol.
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
He clocked her the minute she walked through the door of the bar. How could he not? She was stunning, what with the way she carried herself as she moved through the room, the way her hips swayed as she walked. Bucky liked to think of himself as a gentleman, but just the sight of the unknown woman in front of him was inspiring decidedly ungentlemanly thoughts.
He couldn’t believe his luck when she walked right up to Natasha, giving her a hug and joining her and Wanda at their table. His mind had been running, trying to come up with an excuse to approach her; he couldn’t believe he’d ended up with such an easy in.
“Remember how we talked about staring, Tin Man?” Sam said, coming up alongside Bucky and noticing his distraction. “How some girls might find it downright creepy?”
Bucky ignored his friend’s jab at his expense. “Who’s that?” he asked, jutting his chin toward where the woman sat with his teammates.
Sam cocked his head, considering the girl who had captured his friend’s attention. “I think that’s Nat’s friend… (Y/N)--something. Nat said she might be joining us. Heard the girl was pretty, but damn!”
Bucky turned to look at his friend. “What do you mean, you ‘heard she was pretty’?”
Sam shrugged. “Nothing. Just that Nat said she was inviting her pretty, single friend out with us tonight and maybe those of us without girlfriends might want to consider putting a little extra care into our appearance.”
Bucky glanced around at his friends– they did seem a bit more put together than usual, even Parker. But then he frowned. “How come Nat didn’t say anything about her to me?” He couldn’t help but feel slightly offended at being left out. Did Natasha not think he was good enough for her friend?
“Come on, man,” Sam said good naturedly, slapping Bucky on the back. “You may not have a girlfriend, but you sure as shit ain’t single!”
Sam started laughing, but Bucky wasn’t sure he understood the joke. That happened a lot, unfortunately. There was so much about this time he just didn’t get, and he often found himself too embarrassed to ask for clarification.
“What’s so funny, boys?” Bucky felt a small arm slink itself around his waist, and Lily was pressing herself into his side. He smiled down at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and squeezing her gently. He was never too embarrassed to ask Lily to explain the crazy ways of this modern world to him; she always approached his time-dysphoria, as they’d come to call it, with compassion and understanding. He was infinitely grateful to have her as a friend. One of his best.
“Exhibit A,” Sam said pointedly to Bucky. He turned to Lily. “Buck’s just curious about Nat’s new friend,” Sam said, a sly grin taking over his features. “What do you think, Lil? She’s hot, right?”
Bucky felt Lily stiffen beside him. “She’s alright, I guess,” Lily said after a minute of looking the woman over. “If you’re into that basic, skanky look.”
Bucky watched as Nat’s friend took off her leather jacket and draped it behind her chair. God, the skin of her back and shoulders looked so soft, he caught himself wondering what it would be like to run his fingers across it. “I think she’s gorgeous,” he found himself saying.
Lily looked up at him in surprise. “Really, Jamie? I have to admit, I’m surprised. I thought you had more refined taste than that.” She gave him a disgusted look before disengaging herself from his hold and walked back toward the pool table to line up her next shot.
“Yeah, Jamie,” Sam mocked once Lily had moved beyond earshot. “How dare you find the attractive girl attractive, you asshole!”
“Knock it off, Sam,” Bucky said, trying to ascertain why Lily would seem to have a problem with the way the woman looked. He thought she looked amazing. Easily one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, in this, or any of his decades.
Sam chortled. “Man, you hate being called ‘Jamie.’ Why haven’t you asked her to knock it the fuck off by now?”
Bucky shrugged, putting thoughts of Lily’s words aside as he glanced at the woman sitting with Nat and Wanda again. “I dunno; she likes it, and it’s been four years already. Feels kinda weird correcting her on it, now.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah, cause God forbid your friends actually call you what you want to be called.”
When he didn’t respond right away, Sam looked over and caught Bucky staring at you. “Hello,” he said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. “Earth to Barnes? You okay over there?”
“Yeah,” said Bucky, blushing at being called out. “It’s just… she’s really pretty, you know?”
Sam sighed. “Alright. Now, I was gonna make my own play, but seeing as it’s been a dog’s age since you got any action, I’m gonna be a good friend and be your wingman on this one.”
Bucky smiled and turned back to the high top, delighted to see the woman looking back at him, this time, the sweetest smile playing across her lips. “Thanks, Sam,” he said.
Sam gently nudged him with his elbow. “Don’t mention it, pal. You know I can never say ‘no’ to a charity case.”
“Guys,” Lily called over to the two of them. “We’re starting a new game, come on.”
Bucky looked back, giving the pretty girl one more glance. Were her lips as kissable as they looked? He wondered. Get it together, Barnes, he chastised himself. You’re 106-years old, not a fucking teenager.
But damn if she wasn’t making him feel like one tonight.
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#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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I read a fanfic once, I forgot which one. But in that fic, they have this idea where Gem and Grian's base has this... Foggy vibe to it. Like compare it to the cherry mountain that's all pink and petals and then you have these two bases which are straight up The Horrors™
I Just love that idea
So much I've been thinking, what if the whole Magic Mountain is surrounded by fog? A magic fog and mist that just always surround the area and got thicker as the sun set further. The area always seems cloudy. As if there is an eternal cloud forever covering the mountains. It's either raining, or storm, or cloudy. The only time it's clear is when Grian finally got his mending book, the pink snail arrive, and it switch to storm when Scar got the mending book. (He got struck by lightning a few time if he reaches that area)
Joel's base not only has lantern illuminating it, but souls as well. They didn't stay idle, but never went too far. Some of them even transform, Into tanuki or fox or wolves and even Koi fish and Axolotl. That fly in the air instead of water, obviously.
Sometimes there's things passing by on Impulse's build. Something tall and slender, with long limbs and sharp claws. They're not Enderman, Enderman don't crawl. Impulse said they're cool if you pretend they didn't exist and just let them... Lurks around.
Something is wrong with Mumbo's base. I want to call it decaying, but it's not. It's more like redstone veins appear around the blackened grass, the air smells like gunpowder and something acid. Or maybe copper.
Many hermits had reported seeing the sight of a statue angel that just appear on top of Skizz's unfinished Pyramid. It appear when they're looking at it, but then they look around and it's gone. The statue has never been in the same position everytime someone look at it.
Most people don't like going to Scar's base at night, not only because of how creepy it look like surrounded by those fog. Like the rest of them, something strange always happens. Like animals looking bigger and more beast-like the moment night arrive, ever seen a cow just grows multiple horns and it sounds like those horn are breaking out of it's skull? Or that one time, one time his horse stand up on two feet? Probably not. Scar said they're harmless. Except for the snail—he said. The snail isn't his. That's why they damaged his build and become a nuisance.
(There was once a time, a time where clouds whirled around his ore pillar, clouds that are made of limbs and hand and eyes and it just stretched and climb down from the pillar. It never reach the ground, fortunately.)
Grian never stopped fishing. Even if it rains or stormed outside. He's smelly and that's why snails like him and his horse don't. Totally not because Pluto saw him turn into giant mer-man with many eyes and tails and sharp tooth. Definitely not. Don't feel weird when you feel like you're being watched. Or because shadow-like silhouette wander around his wheat farm, or a silhouette of something massive that was illuminated everytime lightning strikes, looking down from the cherry mountain toward his and Gem's base and, occasionally, you felt like you found a body you recognize in the water—
And that's where Gem comes in! Gem is someone who stopped you before you decide to jump in the water and check who's that corpse is. And the one who shooed off the many eyes that lurk in the muddy river side of Grian's base. Grian hates her for that but there's nothing he can do. Gem, like Grian, is someone who can walk in the middle of the storm unharmed. Most of the time, she make sure that none of the hermits fell into the trick of her other neighbors.
just don't let that distract you from the fact one of her build is actually sentient and breathing and is always staring at you. Or the fact there's blood around the rocky shores if you squint into the dark river/soon-to-be-ocean. Or the fact that, just like the angler, the skull always felt like it's watching even if there's no actually eyes in it's socket. Gem is always present when you want to have a tour or just so happened to passed that area, but... If she's not there to guide you, would it even be worth it to be stabbed with a trident and got dragged into the water?
#cm think#hc s10#the magic mountain#grian#geminitay#joel smallishbeans#mumbo jumbo#goodtimeswithscar#impulsesv#skizzleman#Let's add some Horrors to these silly minecrafter tehe#Yes I've been watching too much TMA/TMP and my yt shorts is filled with Doctor Who clip
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(Other than the really weird bit about "Male presenting Doctor") what were your thoughts about the specials?
pretty mixed bag, pretty messy, but good overall. i think they were very obviously a nostalgia trip for people around my age lol and it worked! i loved seeing tennant and tate back onscreen together, their chemistry hasn't aged a bit, and honestly just watching doctor who that wasn't written by chris chibnall was a breath of fresh air. they weren't boring, like seasons 11 and 12 were, and they didn't go too far off the other end into nonsense like flux did. characters want things again! the show can let itself just be silly! i was literally cheering out loud when donna and the doctor were just saying random scifi gobbledegook at each other for like a solid several minutes during the star beast.
the structure of the specials kind of baffles me. i love wild blue yonder--i think it's definitively the best of the specials as a standalone, it's absolutely fantastic, creepy and atmospheric and bringing things around to RTD's strength, which is well-written characters interacting with each other and letting good actors just act. but at the same time i dont understand why it exists? it feels like...idk. imagine if you watched the star wars original trilogy but instead of the empire strikes back the middle film was just a feature length film about luke and han surviving on an ice planet with no reference to anything that happens in the last film except the two characters' relationship. and then the next film was still return of the jedi, unchanged. it felt like that
i liked all the weird campy silliness of the star beast and the giggle, and they were both very fun! neil patrick harris gave a fantastic performance, there are a lot of very memorable sequences from the giggle, but it's very very all over the place. so many threads get kind of picked up and go nowhere. the toymaker's haunted house dimension goes nowhere. RTD's eyerolling social media commetnary goes nowhere (thank god tbh but yknow im illustrating something here). even the toymaker kind of goes nowhere, after ncuti gatwa shows up he's bascially an afterthought who loses by dropping a ball. obvious parallels to david tennant's first episode with that ball scene could be made, but just... aren't. it feels like load-bearing sectikons of the plot and themes were cut out to make room for a backdoor pilot for the stupid fucking UNIT spinoff
oh and it goes without saying i fucking hate all the UNIT wank in the star beast and the giggle. i hope space nine eleven 2 happens to their stupid fucking avengers tower i cannot stand kate stewart who is constantly a murderous bonehead (in the giggle alone she gets two pepole killed by not listening to the doctor and assuming that this teleporting godlike entity could be restrainted by Two Guys) who is both in and out of universe just a boring nepo baby with no merit of her own
um. i still dont know what happened with the regeneration. i think the implication is that when david tennant dies hell time travel back to become ncuti gatwa inside himself--at least the rehab dialogue seems to make that implication. but it's not really explained or explored? baffling. i do think that fourteen getting to settle down and live a peaceful life with his friends is cute.
oh yeah and the ask said other than that but goddd there was some good stuff in the star beast and honestly with the state of the UK media i will take any perspective on trans people that includes baseline human erespect but some of those lines made me cringe so bad. anyway overall i am cautiously optimistic for the future of the show--oh ncuti was fucking great did i mention that i instantly bnought him as the doctor he owned the scene, the moment he was there it was clear he was the protagonist, and i liked the church on ruby road well enough too--i am cautiously optimistic but i worry that a big UNIT-shaped tumor will devour huge chunks of it and it'll be annoying. also russel t davies is like 60 and i just dont want to hear what he has to say about twitter so im not looking forward to dot and bubble
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Bitchy Besties: part 3
As Kate watched Tanya speed off around the corner and out of sight, she strutted confidently towards the school like she had seen Tanya do a hundred times. It wasn’t until she caught her reflection in the bathroom mirror that she realized what she was doing and finally dropped her bitchy facade. She had spent so much of the day as Kayleigh it was hard to shake her off entirely.
Retrieving the bag from her hiding spot she took one last look at Kayleigh in the mirror before stripping herself of all the elements that made her. The earrings, the necklace, the makeup, the clothes and finally the hair. The only thing she couldn’t take off were the new nails she had gotten but she made a mental note to at least file them down later.
All things that had previously felt odd and uncomfortable on her now gave her a pang of longing. She couldn't deny how much fun she had had with Tanya that day, having a friend who she was completely in sync with. But then she reminded herself that it wasn't Kate that Tanya was enamoured with, who she had found a kindred spirit in. No that was Kayleigh.
She should be happy to be back to being her normal self. And yet, getting home she threw herself onto her bed and began to feel conflicted and she couldn't understand why. She thought she hated girls like Tanya and before today the thoughts of being her friend was the last thing she wanted but something inside her was now pushing against that feeling, making her question herself.
Sitting up on the bed she looked at herself in her vanity mirror. She was at a crossroads. She could walk into school tomorrow as she had done for years being the same old Kate that others knew and ignored or she could strut in as Kayleigh, have a best friend and be popular and sought after. Looking down at her nails she had gotten with Tanya, the allure of the latter was obvious but she knew that she would be turning her back on the good part of herself and selling her soul to be a bitch. Could she do it?
The next morning Tanya sat into her seat in the back of her first class with her clique sitting around her. She should have felt like the queen she always felt like but for once she was feeling a little sad. She knew it had to do with Kayleigh. She had never clicked so easily and quickly with someone before and now surrounded by her betas she longed for the connection she had made with Kayleigh. Someone who upped her game. Another Alpha.
She looked around the class, considering for a moment the idea that any one of them could potentially be her bitchy bestie but her face quickly turned sour. The one silver lining was that the loser Kate who she loathed was apparently out sick as her seat was empty, although her creepy ex Cory was still here so maybe it wasn't all positive.
Tanya was daydreaming about transferring to Alpha Prep when their teacher called for attention.
"Now before we get started I have two quick announcements. First is that we have a new student starting today, so please give a warm welcome to Kayleigh." The teacher said starting an applause that was continued loudly by a now perked up Tanya.
Kayleigh strode into the class a vision in a tight black pants and even tighter black top outfit that she had bought yesterday with Tanya. Her steely gaze was only broken when she spotted Tanya and excitedly headed over to her.
"Rachel move over to that spare seat this instant! Kayleigh sits next to me from now on." Tanya said snapping at one of her insubordinates as Kayleigh arrived. Tanya stood up and embraced Kayleigh who returned the hug tightly.
"Oh babe I'm so glad you chose here, we are going to have the best senior year of all time." Tanya beamed as Kayleigh took her seat next to her.
"I just couldn't imagine having any fun anywhere else without a queen like you by my side." Kayleigh said.
"And now for the second announcement, I am sad to say that Kate, our highest GPA achiever, and her family have moved and so won't be joining us for her final year." The teacher said sadly before heading to his desk.
"This day just keeps getting better." Tanya said whispering to Kayleigh.
"Why? Who's Kate?" Kayleigh whispered back.
"Oh she was this loser nobody. As far as I'm concerned, this school got a massive upgrade with her gone and you in her place." Tanya said.
"I couldn't agree more." Kayleigh replied with a knowing smile.
As class was let out nearly an hour later, Tanya and Kayleigh were inseparable, walking together out of the classroom arm in arm while the rest of clique struggled to keep up. Kayleigh quickly asserted her dominance over the other girls and they fell in line loyally to their new co-Queen.
By noon the school was abuzz with gossip about the new girl Kayleigh. News quickly spread about her sexual history, her bitchy attitude and her beauty. The bullied lower class of the school had to know fear two mega babes.
“Tanya babes look at what this loser thinks passes for fashion these days, isn’t it tragic.” Kayleigh sneered at one unfortunate girl.
“Couldn’t agree more Kayleigh, her clothes, if you can come them that, are hurting my eyes.” Tanya replied coldly, shielding her eyes.
“You hear that dork, you’re physically hurting my Bestie, get lost before I physically hurt you.” Kayleigh said bearing down on the girl. Kayleigh felt her pussy tingle as she watched the girl flee. As soon as she was gone Kayleigh and Tanya giggled cruelly.
Before the end of the day the two of them could finish each other's sentences. Collectively they were soon known as 'Kayla', a two headed creature who was as formidable as they were beautiful.
However as connected to the hip as they were, Kayleigh excused herself near the end of the day for a moment and snuck into an empty classroom where inside she found Cory waiting.
"Alright loser you better have good news for me or I'll squeeze you puny dick into a cage. Although something tells me you'd only get off on that." Kayleigh snarled at Cory who had a strange mix of fear and arousal etched on his face.
"Y-yes of course. I hacked into the school system and added all of your, I mean, all of Kate's grades to yours. I also added you as a new transfer student and transferred Kate out of the school but you already know that." He said nervously awaiting her response.
"Good. Glad to see you're not entirely useless." She said distainfully as she turned to leave.
"A-aren't y-you going to t-thank me?" He said barely above a whisper but it was enough to stop her in her tracks.
"Excuse me?" She said wheeling around.
"W-well if it wasn't f-for me, you would h-have never p-put on the hair and b-become Kayleigh." He said, each word making him regret the last. In a flash she had her hand on his throat and was squeezing.
"Let's get on thing straight you pathetic worm, there is no magic hair, no transfer of power from Tanya to me or any bullshit like that. I just realised that I didn't want to be some loser nobody anymore, I didn't want to be an outcast freak like you. Kayleigh didn't take over Kate's body, Kate had stolen my body for 18 years. I just took it back, understand?" She said with genuine venom in her voice. Cory looked into her cold blue eyes and couldn't see Kate inside. He nodded feebly.
Dropping him to the floor, she walked slowly to the door still incensed, however she still needed him for one thing.
"Don't forget to hack into my father's workplace and give him that fat raise and promotion, I have a status to uphold." She said not even dignifying Cory with a look anymore but knew he was nodding intently. She couldn't waste anymore time, not when she had a school to run with her Bitchy Bestie.
THE END
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May I present to you... innocent playgirl reader x modern au incel scara??
Like reader is just a sweet gal that thinks this boy who she's in a project with is pretty and despite his weird and creepy behaviour, it's a good thing she's trying to make a move, because y'know! it's actually women's fault that men get so frustrated and depressed since they never give the short guys a chance! Only go for the top 1% and all that.
Unfortunately after scara naps her, noncons the absolute, living daylights out of her, and continues to terrorize her ass does she realize that being nice and sweet to the degenerate, sexist incel in hopes of fixing him wasn't the brightest idea 😔
(If you can't tell I love the idea of kind n sweet MC who doesn't know any better getting her shit wrecked for no good reason because incel scara is just that much of an asshole)
Ohhhh my God bless you for this
Precisely, it’s so unfair. It’s just extra inches of leg bone, it means nothing. And yet day in, day out, the oppressed class (sub-6-foot males) have to deal with unjust discrimination. All because you have the most superficial desires and can’t compromise on such a silly thing. No, you’d rather whore around with some guy that will just use you and cheat on you because your dumb girl brain seeks that out like every other. And in spite of being smarter and better than the neanderthals you choose to date, which should entitle him to pussy, he’s left with nothing but porn and his hand. The world is an unjust place.
He’s pessimistic as all hell, so he can’t take any kindness or attempts at getting closer from you at face value, there has to be an ulterior motive.
You’re only pleasant to him when you talk to him because you want something. You probably expect him to do work for you, or help you cheat on tests for you or fork over money. You think he’s the sort of loser that will salivate over any girl that gives him a shred of attention, don’t you. That he’ll run himself ragged doing whatever for you just to get your approval. Well. You’re not going to get that.
It goes along with this greater idea of you he’s crafted in his head, one that fits a similarly pessimistic image. It doesn’t matter how “innocent” you are, literally anything you say or do, he’s projecting this stereotype of a secretly not-so-innocent, ultra-promiscuous college girl onto you and using it as both justification for his disdain and as a means of rationalize not leaping at this rare chance for female interaction — it’s not that he’s too afraid of rejection, it’s just that he knows that talking to you is a waste of time anyway, you undoubtedly have guys lined up you're fucking on a regular basis.
Besides, even if he tried, you’re far too dull-brained, so any conversations you’re capable of aren’t going to be stimulating anyway. You’re in college, of course you’ve spent all this time racking up a body count because God knows girls only use college as a means to get dicked all the time, they don’t actually care for academics in any way.
And poor you, you're completely oblivious to his bitter seething. You just think he's just quiet. And surely he doesn’t come off as rude and cold on purpose, no, you tell yourself that he probably just is one of those guys that is naturally like that, it’s not malicious.
But then you have to start going out of your way to be actively nice. Trying to make conversation and say nice things — you must think he’s stupid, that he doesn’t know that it’s actually just fake niceness so you can lure him in and get him to say something you can then mock him for in that faux-sweet tone of yours. In the exact opposite of your assumptions on him, he assumes malice in everything you do and say. He won’t give you the satisfaction of giving you leverage, so, he stays quiet, gives you one-word answers and shrugs.
What plans do you have for the weekend?, you say, in your attempts to make conversation. Ugh.
Not only are you trying to jab at him by reminding him that he has no plans other than staying inside and wallowing, but clearly you do have plans, undoubtedly ones that end with you stumbling home in a walk-of-shame on a Sunday morning.
And the nicer you get, the more you irritate him. What makes you think you can just be like that? All smiley and sunshine-like, and for what? To mock him? Acting innocent and sweet as if you don't know what kind of power you inherently hold just by having a hole between your legs, as if you're not actively abusing that power when you're clearly trying to get him to be attracted to you.
Each and every class period, he ends up so infuriated by the few words you exchange that the only way he can even stay sane is by immediately going back to his apartment after class and releasing all the pent up frustrations via exceptionally violent porn. He's got a few specifics pages bookmarked now, girls that look just like you getting slapped around and choked and manhandled and skull-fucked and gaped… but it's just not satisfying enough, there's still this lingering irritation, a skin-crawling malice that won't go away.
It's not good enough to imagine. If anything, the post-orgasmic clarity just makes the whole thing feel pathetic — it's not really you, you get to be all happy and safe and sound when it should be you, you should be the one being brutalized and put in your place, you deserve it for being so damn nice. So pleasant and upbeat and kind and what gives you the right?
In the end, once the burning fury becomes too much and no one else is going to do it, the only option is to take matters into his own hands…
#ok but now Im considering my camgirl/onlyf*ns darling but with him...#the thoughts are manifesting and i cannot be held accountable for what may come of them#.sc#.miso
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AITA for believing my sibling is a cheater and a liar?
This situation is so fucking wild and I never thought anything like this would happen to me, but here we are. Background info: I (F late 20s) have 2 siblings (F early 20s and NB30s). Me and my younger sister Lee (fake name) live together and our oldest sibling Lane lives with their husband Bryan (fake names). They've been together for 8 years and married for 4, and they have a toddler son together.
4 days ago Lane came over to our house with their son and their bags and said Bryan had been cheating on them with a coworker and when they confronted him he threw them and their kid out on the street. Obviously we rallied around Lane. We let them move in, I offered to watch my nephew while they worked, and Lee started blasting Bryan for being a cheater on social media while I just blocked him.
Then yesterday Bryan came knocking on our door while Lane was at work and it was me and my sister's day off. We yelled at Bryan through the door that he was trespassing and we'd call the cops if he didn't leave. Bryan said he had proof that Lane had lied to us. That they were the ones who cheated and they left when he called them out on it.
We decided to go outside and hear him out rather than let him inside and he showed us a binder full of printed out call logs and text conversations that seemed to indicate Lane was indeed cheating with a coworker. He had the usual story you always hear. Lane was acting distant and was always on their phone, spending more time at work, coming home at odd hours, etc. So he checked their phone when they were in the shower and found the texts, so he started gathering evidence. He would wait until Lane was asleep to send pictures of their texts to his phone and set up cameras to catch Lane in the act. Sure enough it took less than 3 days before he caught Lane bringing their coworker over to have sex.
This is where, imo, it gets weird. To me the text messages and the assurance that Bryan had pictures and videos was enough. But my little sister Lee said she didn't believe him and wanted to see the videos. He said he didn't bring them with him and wouldn't show anyone if he did, because legally that would be considered revenge porn and he didn't want to do that to Lane, nor did he want those legal complications in the upcoming divorce. The only reason he was telling us was so we wouldn't hate him for something he didn't do, because he still had to be in our lives for his son's sake.
Lee kept insisting she wouldn't believe Lane would do something like that and wouldn't believe it until she saw their face during the act which sounded really fucking creepy to me and I told her so. Why the hell would she want to see our sibling having sex? Lee said it was suspicious that Bryan suddenly had all this evidence after Lane caught him cheating. I said a cheater would obviously lie to cover their tracks. Lee just yelled that I wasn't being loyal and since I was so protective of Bryan I was probably screwing him too, and she locked me out of the house.
Bryan apologized for the drama he caused and left, and I had to sit outside for 3 more hours until Lane got home and unlocked the door with their key (I had left mine inside and Lee wouldn't let me back in). I confronted Lane about what Bryan said but they just started crying that I believed their "manipulative ex" over them. I said Bryan had proof, they didn't, and they just kept sobbing. Lee called me an asshole and disloyal again.
I wanna be clear: I still wanna be there for my sibling no matter what. I won't kick them out or disown them or whatever even if they did cheat, I just don't wanna cut Bryan off completely if he didn't even do anything wrong. I tried telling Lane that, but it makes them just break into tears and beg me to believe them and Lee keeps saying I broke a sacred bond and family should always believe family, and it's making me start to doubt myself. AITA?
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pls more flirty harry i love him so much
(Chewing through the bars of my metal enclosure) of COURSE you can have more!
Harry whisper things in your ear even when you’re alone. Things he could have easily said out loud. He’ll come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist just to whisper something like “I’m going to the store, do you need anything?”
Harry’s always watching you but not in a creepy stalker way. (Although it could be perceived that way with his unmoving unblinking stare.) he observes every move you make simply because he likes looking at you. And he’ll tell you that if you ask too.
Love language is acts of service….he likes to do a lot of your mundane tasks for you. Tying your shoe, cutting and messuring ingredients while your cooking/baking, etc…
And if you’re hyper-independent it’s especially satisfying to him when you let him do things for you. He likes it when you get all huffy and start declining his help like “no I can do it” or “it’s just a little thing I can handle it” because he enjoys the way you melt when “I know but I want to do it for you.”
(Pretending to be normal) I just think he’s neat!
#I’m assuming we’re all as equally not normal about him <33#knock knock knocking on my askbox#trip to anononia#harry james potter x reader#harry james potter x y/n#harry potter x reader#harry potter x fem!reader#harry james potter x you#harry potter x y/n#harry potter x you#hjp x y/n#hjp x you#hjp x reader
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tell us more about ren she’s so pretty i need lore
Hello anon!! I am so flattered u want to know more about her! Ren is an alternate universe version of my usual Tav.
I’m much better at storytelling visually, so I’ll explain some of my visual choices I’ve made for her character, which contains a bit of the lore I have created thus far. (also thank u for the excuse to just create a character dump post for her lol - i spent way too much time on this)
content warnings: mentions of dissection, scarring one's own face, unhealthy obsessions, stalking, religious trauma... just general fucked up Bhaalist things. + spoilers for BG3
EYES
A keypoint in her design are her eyes; Ren has the same eyes as The Dark Urge's Fiend butler, Sceleritas Fel, reflecting her origin as a creation of Bhaal Himself. Similar to other creations like her and Sceleritas, she was made with the purpose of serving and assisting Bhaal's Chosen.
SCARS
The right side of her face is deliberate scarring of her own doing during her priestess "training". Her body scars, however, are the result of the experimentation performed on her in her early training days. These experiments are often done with the purpose of making unnatural "improvements".
HANDS
I really love how Scarlet Witch's fingertips will stain black as a result of her use of the Darkhold's chaos magic spells, so I took that inspiration and headcannon that Ren's hands/arms do something similar from her "training" as a priestess of Bhaal and her use of necromancy/shadow magic and rituals.
For her general aesthetic, I was mainly inspired by the concept art for Bhaal for BG3 and this art of a priestess of Bhaal. She often wears a large dusty cloak over her usual gown. Placed on the top of her cloak, she will also sometimes wear a crown of thorns, mimicking the "spiky" style of common Bhaalist attire. During their time in the temple, before the events of BG3, she often adorned her face with a broken piece of a human skull. Since her coat is quite heavy, she walks a little hunched over… kind of like a creepy gremlin. Additionally, she will wear a small Bhaalist charm at the collar of her cloak.
Underneath, she wears her typical black gown; the top half resembles Orin’s carapace and blends into her skirt, with leg slits for better mobility, of course! When she isn’t wearing her cloak, her hair is loosely tied back and styled into a collection of braids, accessorized with Bhaalist jewelry.
*Keep in mind I am not a lore expert in terms of D&D deities or Bhaalist lore in general. I took some stuff from the forgotten realms wiki but also just made some stuff up lol, so this NOT D&D or BG3 lore accurate.
Also, again, warnings for unhealthy relationships/obsessions, as well as brief mentions of torture but not in detail.
THEY ARE BHAALISTS THEY HAVE ISSUES!!!!
Similarly to Sceleritas Fel, Ren has a lot of "care" for The Dark Urge. She favours him over Orin, and often clashed heads with her... but of course I have to have some doomed yuri content too!!!!!! so maybe they kissed once or twice >:)
(but waaay before the events of BG3)
Her "training" as a priestess of Bhaal consisted of torture, religious indoctrination, and extreme mental corruption/manipulation, especially by Orin. As implied before, she faced experiments in order to "improve" her usefulness to Bhaal and His Chosen. As a result, she is not the most stable person you'll meet. She is mainly chaotic evil aligned, however, her final loyalties will always lie with The Dark Urge, and she is accepting of his resistance/redemption path, as well as his acceptance/murder hobo path. She is essentially a certified Real One (also doesn't rlly vibe with Bhaal after he kills her evil Dragon boyfriend yk). The tadpole in someway also helped "release" her mind of Bhaal's influence, and while she is still an obsessive and violent girlie, she can be persuaded to not be a total murder hobo and sometimes even decides on her own to go against Bhaal's wishes (she still cool with murder though).
As I previously mentioned, Ren was created by Bhaal to assist His Chosen in his duties and leading the temple, as most priestesses/priests of Bhaal do. She is more of a companion and advisor to The Dark Urge, rather than a servant like Sceleritas Fel. She is deeply (obsessed) "in-love" with The Dark Urge, and supports him over Orin. A while before the whole tadpoles, absolute, blah blah blah stuff, her and Orin had a brief history, but it was moreso Orin's jealousy of what Durge had.
Her in-game class is a Bhaalist class mod! It is very fun so far, and she just levelled up to level 3 and can now has the ability Verminous Metamorphosis, so she can turn into a… RAAAAT!! 🐀 sorry, Astarion :( However, I see her as a combo of this and a death cleric of Bhaal.
In terms of how her story is going in the BG3 campaign, i still haven't fully fleshed anything out yet! I would assume she would have a large impact on Durge's memory loss. Maybe she will have her own gaps in memory, but knows they have a reason to go to Baldur's Gate. As for other durge events, I believe she would be proud of The Dark Urge for such a "beautiful display of gore!" after Alfira night lol.
I'm still undecided if I want to do redemption or murder hobo durge... I don't want to kill Isobel so I'm probably going to headcannon that Bhaal tasks The Dark Urge with killing her, as a way to test if he is "losing his way", or if he cares more about the life of a "mere servant of Bhaal" than his own "birthright" as Bhaal's Chosen.
For now I am just going with the flow of the game and doing some fun photo and gif series of Ren and Durge's adventure in my Durgetav playthrough!
Face preset | hair | scar | eyes | makeup + bloody lips | body tattoo & autopsy scar
Orin top, arms + legs | dress + accessories | cloak | hood + crown/mask | lingerie
♡ PLAYLIST
dividers made by me with canva; graphics by @/brand314195326 and @/dhtgip.
screenshots by me ♡
#oc: Bhaalist Priestess!Ren#my inbox#bg3#bg3 oc#bg3 tav#sorry im still not great at writing lol#i really like a lot of these photos so ill probably make them their own posts too!!
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Dead Boy Detectives Spoilers
I ADORE the Cat King and I'm really fascinated by him and I just love how detailed everything about him is.
A few thoughts on him...
I love that he's living at Empire fish company to harken to his royal status.
I adore the headcannon that he's Desire's child. Especially since their actor tweeted about it!
I'm presuming since he had to ask which boy put the spell on his cat that he can't see through his cat's eyes, they have to report back to him. And, knowing cats, they have to want to report back too. They don't just do it out of obligation. So, I'd like to think he's a pretty decent ruler which is nice.
I love that his loneliness is tied in to almost every interaction he has with Edwin. From insisting that he likes to keep things consensual then putting a spell that forces them to be closer. To watching out for/stalking Edwin with his cats. To forcing him to tell the truth but only a little bit in a kind of desperate attempt to get Edwin to see he cares about him and embraces him for who he is. Edwin calling him lonely really doesn't come from nowhere to humanize him which I love. It's great that even the minor character's motivations are well thought through in the show.
I'm also not saying any of this behaivour is okay though. It's creepy and pathetic. But there's a few factors that make me love the character and not just write him off as an incel light creep (not that you can't like characters that are bad people but I don't even see him as really a bad person). Firstly... he's hot. Enough said. Another way that makes me emphasize with him is just that his actor is SO charismatic. It really does make a difference that he's just SO fun to watch. Also, not that I've never been harassed by a queer guy before, but him being not straight does help beat the incel/total creep vibes in my mind. Also, the way that he will push a boundary but say or do something that softens what he's done helps too. Like saying he thinks consent is important, like only sending the cats to watch the boys when they're actively doing something dangerous, like ranting and raving in the woods that Edwin will regret this but instead continuing to try to protect him from Esther. I think he clearly cares enough about Edwin that if Edwin was REALLY that uninterested in him and uncomfortable he would of just have given him a different punishment too. Admittedly however, having good intentions or not being as bad as you could be does not stop something from being inappropriate obviously. But I do think it definitely helps.
I also am not particularly bothered by any potential creepiness from the Cat King as the way in interviews everyone talks about him is that he had a very specific role to play. He was made to be Edwin's sexual awakening. Yes he could have just been a guy that like always seems to be obliviously shirtless going on runs or something like that and it would have been less problematic. But, for one, I'm sure Edwin's seen that before and just looks away when it happens. Two, Edwin is SO repressed I think it makes a lot of narrative sense that he needs someone SO pushy and desperate in return to wake him up. I don't see this as condoning this behaivour because real people aren't deeply repressed Victorian ghosts that couldn't access therapy even if they wanted to on account of being dead. So I'm willing to look past some of his worst actions since he by the end is clearly growing and is fictional and fantastical.
Furthermore, as I'm sure many people have seen in recent popular discourses media does not need to be morally pure. I don't think that that should be a get out of jail free card either though. Or that creatives should be allowed to make whatever offensive shit they want and then say but "it's art" or "it's satire". Context matters. It's important how you frame something. And sure the Cat King is not punished for his bad behaivour but he is framed in such a way that I feel like he is not supported for it either. He doesn't get "rewarded" with Edwin in the end. He's not even guaranteed to have his company in even a platonic way since they're heading back to London and he, presumably, has to stay in his kingdom (he calls himself A cat king so I'm assuming there's others elsewhere so he probably can't go to London and intrude on another's territory unless maybe it's just that there's one and he's not the first and a new one will pop up after he dies dies).
I personally like the idea of the Cat King and Edwin going from antagonists, to friends to lovers because I like their dynamic because messiness is fun in fiction and I like Charles and Crystal together (although I do love Charles/Edwin and Niko/Crystal too). But that's just me. Or even I would love for them to become friends and not date, but for the Cat King to be a safe friend for Edwin to explore his sexuality with in a kind of situation-ship before eventually being endgame with Charles.
#dbd#dead boy detective agency#dead boy detectives#dead boy detectives spoilers#myanalysis#the cat king
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okay so we know that if reader tried to be creepy towards yves about sexual stuff he would cut them off (and/or traumatize them if they went even further).
but what would happen if yves set up their perfect meet-cute, they started dating, and after a while reader tried to initiate sex. and yves is like oh, no. explains his whole thing about only doing it like once a month, and on his terms. and reader is like oh, okay! i totally respect that!
and then the next day, they sit down for dinner, and reader essentially tries to break up with him? basically just saying i don’t think this will work out between us, i’d really like a partner who i have very regular sex with even if not every day, but you’re really cool and really nice and i’d love to stay friends :)
how would yves react? i feel like he wouldn’t traumatize them because they didn’t actually do anything wrong, but he’s also been super clear about being monogamous so he doesn’t seem like the type to allow reader to pursue a sort of fwb relationship on the side? that is, if reader even wanted to have a side relationship just for sex, they might only want one relationship and need it to be both romantic and regularly sexual.
another thought that’s sort of tied to this: what if yves was dating a reader who, because they couldn’t successfully initiate sex and were told not to try ever again the one time they tried, and because yves so rarely initiates sex, started feeling really self conscious and like they aren’t worth having sex with? like even with yves being such a sweetheart and loving on them all the time, the lack of sex really gets to them and makes them feel undesirable?
sincerely, a very shy anon (who is Constantly Horny and also gets insecure)
Tw: sexual stuff, drugging
The thing is, Yves would have already known that you're seeking for a more sexually fulfilling relationship with someone. It depends on your personality, is it a must that you have to touch him in ways he wished you wouldn't? Is it a must for Yves to touch you in ways he rather not? Even with his 'interventions'? Then, Yves has no choice but to let go of the idea of being your romantic partner. It doesn't mean he will abandon you, he will assume the role of a smothering monster-in-law.
However, if he already knows the ins and outs of your body, the limits of how much he could drug you without any adverse effects, Yves wouldn't mention about sex at all. He would take it slow, letting the relationship progress until you're comfortable to discuss such proclivities or attempt to make the first move. The longer you're with Yves, the more you feel loved and spoiled by his riches and acts of services.
But... By the time you would usually feel undesirable due to a lack of sexual initiation from Yves, you would find yourself saying "yuck" to anything related to genitalia. Perhaps even feeling glad that Yves didn't see you in that light yet, dreading the day where you have to say no to him.
Hell, maybe you wouldn't even care to initiate it either, you somehow lost interest in something you used to crave badly and you don't know why. The idea of it feels... Dull, boring and maybe overbearing, it's like eating the same meal repeatedly to the point it makes you nauseous thinking about it. The thought of being horny and getting off your bed to work for that orgasm makes you go "Ugh, do I have to?"
Assuming that you masturbate to alleviate your frustrations, you suddenly find that your stimulating toys would just not do it for you anymore. Neither would your fingers, nor pornography. You just feel... Nothing. No tingles, no drive and no desire to chase that high you were once addicted to. It feels tedious as if you're doing a soul sucking chore, you would rather cuddle with Yves instead, fully clothed too with each other's hands away from the major erogenous zones.
You wouldn't notice it. The change would be so gradual that you wouldn't realize your favorite sex toy is collecting a layer of dust under your bed. The idea of Yves going anywhere near your crotch never crossed your mind, why would it? You're not interested in doing the tango with him and neither is he, and you would like to keep it that way in order to avoid the awkwardness of rejection.
You never visited your favourite erotic sites anymore and you're not yearning for that excitement, you have lost a core part of yourself and you are none the wiser.
And that's how Yves likes it; to let yourself be pampered by him in every way except one. What you don't know will never hurt you.
#yandere#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere male#oc yves#yandere concept#tw yandere#yandere oc x reader#yandere x you#male yandere oc x reader
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i decided to share a rec list of some of my fave fics. my "to read" list is still long and i wish i could read so much more but as the time is limited... well, you know. heck, people literally have whole masterlists i could recommend but anyway, i wanted to give a little shoutout to some of the fics. there are some super duper great writers in this fandom and i can't tell enough how much i appreciate your work. my humblest thank yous to all! ❤️
Haeresis Heiress by GhulehVous || mature
if you want to read some family-centered shenanigans, this is your fic. dad!Secondo is surely something you didn't know you needed - though in this case, the path to parenthood is not that smooth. 😊 lots of humor and awkward situations so far!
In the Darkness of Your Dreams by @the-curator1 || 18+
demon!Copia makes me melt. he's so sweet, i want him to protect me, too. 😊 beautifully written piece. ❤️
In Cold Blood by @da-rulah || 18+ (dark fic)
absolutely great. this is creepy but in a captivating way. reading this was like watching some horror movie. this surely would be an amazing horror movie.
First Bite by @ghuleh-witch || 18+
Dracopia, do i need to say more? what a delicious little treat. 😏
Winter Chill <> The Date <> Question Marks <> Couple Skate by @kissingghouls || 18+
i loooooove Mary Goore in these. all are such a delight to read, you will fall in love Mary if you already aren't in love with them/him.
Napping in the Clouds by @ramblingoak || SFW
aww, such a cute steampunk family-centered piece. Secondo and little Copia are so adorable!
Blinded by @lilspacewolfie || 18+
love the devil!Terzo concept and and this is just delicious. beautifully written. (i definitely need to read more...) ❤️
I Knew Nothing But Shadows by @writingjourney || 18+
a masterpiece. such a beautiful, raw story that really hits all the spots within you - honestly. it feels like words aren't enough to describe this. just wow. ❤️
Ribbons & Ties by @anamelessfool || teen and up
such a great world-building, lovely story about Terzo and Omega's relationship. ❤️
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I don’t see any rules for what you do and don’t write but I’m thinking ghostface/stalker Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott or Tom Riddle
Yesssss, I love Scream! Let me know if you guys want more of this with the other boys or more of Mattheo!
My Princess
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Stalking, killing, Ghostface, mention of assault
Don't read if this stuff bothers you!
There’s been reportings of a murderer in your area. One who donned a mask. ‘Ghostface’ is what they started calling him.
It was scary, trying to live with a serial killer nearby, who could be anyone since no one saw their face.
The killings seemed random at first. No pattern, no specific target demographic, no connections to each other.
Then, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he killed your cheating ex. And your old bully. And that one teacher who seemed like he had it out for you.
It got scarier for you. Seeing so many people who had connections to you being killed.
Only, it got worse when, the day after the murders, little boxes appeared at your door with an item from the victims and flowers. Each time, you called the cops, but they would make a report and leave, saying they can’t really do anything else.
It was frustrating and terrifying. You invested in a doorbell camera, hoping to catch whoever it was leaving these on your doorstep. But they didn’t show up again. Not at your door, at least.
Next was a box on your bed in your room, this one just filled with flowers and jewelry. As soon as you saw it, you got chills and a gut-wrenching feeling knowing they were in your room.
You called the cops again, but since there was no footage or DNA left behind, all they could do was make another report.
They started leaving notes now. Telling you how pretty you are, how sweet you are, how much he adores you and is obsessed with you. Again, cops won’t do anything, no DNA or footage.
You set a camera up in your room to catch them. You caught them when you were at work, but they were in a Ghostface mask and waved at your camera. They left a note on your bed and left. That was all they did that you caught on camera. You stopped sleeping at your place, waiting for the lease to end in a few months. Your friends let you crash at their place until the notes and gifts started showing up there. You had to go back to your place since no one wanted to let you in theirs with fear they’d show up.
They promised to never hurt you, they were protecting you, they were keeping you safe from everyone who ever hurt you or plans to hurt you.
You heard about a co-worker that was killed one day at work, and the next day, you see papers of screenshots printed out from the co-worker talking about what he wanted to do to you, how he was planning on asking you out to a bar and assaulting you. That made you feel sick. But now you were starting to see this stalker was telling the truth. Maybe they were protecting you.
You still kept the cameras up and bought some weapons for your place, even a handgun.
“You don’t need all this protection, princess. I’ll always protect you.” That was on a note left on your bed, but they left all your weapons alone.
You finally had enough of the cops not doing anything, of no one helping you, of not feeling safe anymore. Whoever this was wasn’t hurting you, just being creepy. You wrote notes back to them, asking who they were and why they kept stalking you.
“Stalking? No, I’m protecting you.” They would write back. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You’re precious to me. I love you.”
It really didn’t help the creepiness, but at least you were finally talking to them. You were hoping to gain their trust and meet them, hopefully kill them.
“You wanna meet me, princess? It’s tempting. But I wouldn’t want you to do something irrational.” They wrote back. “Do you trust me?”
You wanted to say ‘no’ but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to meet them.
So you said ‘yes’ and the notes stopped. You thought you scared them away maybe. Maybe they thought it was too much to meet you.
Until a few days later, you had just gotten back from work. It was a Friday night and you sat at your counter in the kitchen, drinking wine, trying to calm your nerves from everything. You were always on edge nowadays and needed something to help with it. You were tipsy at this point, just eating and drinking as you let yourself relax.
Then you saw a figure emerge from the hallway to stand on the other side of the counter from you, wearing all black and the Ghostface mask.
You panicked and tried running, but your stalker was faster. They grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to them, grabbing your other wrist as well to keep you from running.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess.” A male voice said behind the mask. “You wanted to meet. I’m here.”
You were still panicking, but stopped fighting him. You stared at the mask. Fear took over your body again when you remembered he didn’t just stalk you, but also killed people and you kicked him and took off running again when he let go, running towards your room since that was closest. He ran after you, blocking the door before you could close it.
“Please, I don’t want any of this. I-” You broke into sobs as you backed away.
“No, no , no, princess. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said, closing the door behind him as he spoke softly.
“Why do you do this?” You asked with a shaky voice.
“To protect you. No one will ever hurt you, baby.” He was walking closer and you backed up until you hit the wall.
“Who are you?” You asked, still crying from fear.
He took off his mask to reveal someone you worked with. The co-worker your dead co-worker was messaging about you with.
“Mattheo?” You said with a confused look.
“I just wanted to protect you. To keep you safe from all the evil in the world. You don’t deserve any of that.” He was still speaking softly as he stepped in front of you.
“You killed people.” You whispered.
“People who hurt you. I couldn’t let them live after hurting you.” He said, touching your arm softly and you flinched.
“They didn’t deserve that.”
“They did. You’re perfect. No one should ever hurt you or make you feel bad again.” He moved his other hand to your hair. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you for so long.” His voice was quiet. As much as you feared him, his touch was reverent, like he was savoring every touch of your skin.
“Why did you break into my house?” You asked quietly, meeting his eyes.
“You put the camera up. I wasn’t ready to be caught just yet.” He said with a small smile, trailing his hand up and down your arm, his other hand running through your hair gently.
“We work together. Why didn’t you just talk to me if you felt this way?”
“I was too nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so pretty and funny and sweet and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.” His hand on your arm moved up to cup your cheek. “Would you reject me now?”
You shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t.” You said, but you were still terrified.
He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, hoping if you played along, you could get away at some point.
He leaned in and kissed you gently, timidly. He was nervous. You kissed back, trying to think of a way out of this. It was hard to think when he was kissing you so sweetly.
He broke the kiss and looked at your face. “Your lips are softer than I ever imagined.” He smiled again, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes.” You nodded.
“My princess. All mine now.” He said before kissing you again.
Now that you were in his hands, he wasn’t letting you go.
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