#I'm still not sure it's the right course of action in terms of how the competition works and who profits from it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erideights · 9 months

Text

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy

1K notes · View notes

fl4r3z · 5 months

Text

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡. 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

(𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐜, 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫?)

𝐘𝐮𝐭𝐚 (乙骨憂太) 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Yandere! Yuta Okkotsu, AFAB! Reader, smut MDNI!, Cheating, Cunnilingus, P in V, Jealousy, Stalking, Dark Themes, Somnophilia, Non-con, Dead body, Cum

𝐀/𝐍: Hi my super awesome babies :3 I'm back after dying and i wanna feed you all with a Yuta fic :3 didn't specify any looks for 'boyfriend' so you can insert a character or so!

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▯▯▯▯▯▯ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭? 𝐘𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐞𝐬.

Your eyes were gleaming under the moonlight, looking like beautiful pieces of glass. It had been a month since you and Yuta Okkotsu had broken up with each other. It was late into the relationship when you realized how possessive and manipulative of a man he was.

You and Okkotsu met under the terms of working together. You both engaged a wonderful team, leading to both of you sharing feelings with one another. Yuta was an absolute sweetheart, he'd do anything for you and your sake. He made sure that everything you want, you get. And of course, he gave you an absolute wonderful sex life.

You were blinded by his sweetness and innocent gaze that you didn't realize what troubles were waiting for you. You thought he was everything you had wished for your entire life.

But lately then, you had realized just how possessive he was. And by the means of that, meaning he scolds you for talking to a cashier of an opposite gender. It irritates him, saying only he should be able to look and speak to you. He wants to control everything you do. And that's where everything goes wrong.

Every day with Yuta Okkotsu felt like hours with him ranting about all of the people staring at you, it makes him so irritated. Only he was allowed to admire you. You eventually realized everything and talked to him into breaking up. You could've swore you saw tears streaming down his 'innocent' eyes. He was begging you not to leave him.

But you knew nothing could have changed your mind anymore, you knew you still loved him. But his actions make it so hard to continue your love for him. You hated it.

So then here you were in your apartments balcony, with your so called new 'boyfriend'. Yeah,— you love him, yes. But mostly of the reason was to forget Yuta. You met him when you first moved into your apartment.

But still,— a part of your mind lingers around Yuta. You still couldn't get your mind out of him despite it being a month, and you have a boyfriend already. Maybe you still love him, you've sometimes wondered if he'd already found someone else to manipulate. You often found yourself laying onto your bed often thinking about what Yuta was into right now.

You weren't mindful enough though, the way how Yuta would watch you from your windows, watching every step you make. It makes him sane, you make him sane. He watched you cook, sleep, shower and go so far to even watch you pleasure your self. It makes his cock ache.

Of course, Yuta takes lovely pictures of your body. It was the least he could do. He pastes it on his board, only to see it after waking up. Oh, it makes his cock ache so hard for you. He misses the way your soft walls hugs his desperate cock, because he knows only he could do it.

Yuta had memorized your routine for everyday, like how you act during the day, the time you leave, and even the sound of your floors creaking when you step on them. If people were to be asked about your house, Yuta would be able to answer all of them in less than a second or so.

He thinks watching you is on top of his priorities, he wastes no time when it comes to you.

And that's why he's infront of you, in your room. His eyes were glimmering into the dark room only lit by the moonlight from your windows. Your body was highlighted by tints of the Moon Shine, it was mermerizing, the way your body was so magestic even when done so fucking effortlessly.

He was examining you, and how sweet you seemed like with your body asleep. Oh, how he missed seeing this. He wanted to make you his once again. He wants you around his finger like a puppet. He promises to never let you go once he lays his hands on you again.

He grabs his camera carefully, trying not to wake you. He snaps a picture, adds it into his gallery, — '(Name) (Name) (Name)'. 2,429 photos. Oh if you only knew how much he admires you. You'd never want to leave his side ever again..

"I missed you." He muttered. "And i know you miss me too."

He was slowly approaching your bed, sitting at the edge, engaging your beautiful face. His hands found their way into your thighs, then your lower abdomen. He wants to feel you so, so much, he doesn't wanna hold back anymore.

He looks at you ever so intense with his eyes gleaming lust. He looks at your face, then at your clothed pussy. He moves towards your neck, giving it feather light kisses. Your eyes were fluttering, Yuta hopes that you were feeling him.

He moves towards your lower abdomen, lifting your shirt up, enough to reveal your stomach. He trails his lips against your abdomen, moving towards between your thighs.

Grabbing the hem of your shorts, he pulls it aside, revealing your pussy to him. Turning his face closer, he licks your cunt. He'll never get tired of your taste. Pulling away, he starts pulling your shorts carefully not to wake you up.

He noticed that your eyes were fluttering, he stops, feeling his heart hammering in his chest. He slightly wants you to wake up with him between your legs just eating you out.

He starts gliding his tongue onto your cunt followed by feather light kisses. Hearing you gasp because of his actions makes him ache so hard. Trying his best to contain himself from cumming in his pants, he decides to unzip his pants.

Just the tip right? Atleast to pleasure himself. He unzips his pants, pulling his aching cock out and lines it against the entrance of your pussy. He strokes it a few times then pressing the tip inside.

He could hear you mewl and it makes him ache harder.

You started fluttering your eyes open and your gaze was set into Yuta. "Yuta?! What are you-" You were cut off with him slamming his hands on your mouth.— "Shh, (name) please be quiet.." Yuta mutters in your ears, " just, once please.. "

Yuta thrusted inside you fully, making you yelp muffled in his hands.— "please please let me feel you (name) " Yuta was pleading. But dear god, you were fantasizing about this, albeit having a boyfriend. You couldn't help but think about Yuta.

But of course you weren't going to tell that to Yuta straightly.

Yuta starts to move slowly, making you gasp for the sudden movements. All of his plans were all going accordingly. You'll finally be his again.— He starts gaining the pace, he was whimpering, not loud but enough to hear from the other room.

Yuta’s movements are almost desperate and your skin feels on fire when the pleasure races through you. you hear his own quiet moans, almost lost between smacks and skin slapping noises and your thighs tremble as your hips stutter. Every desperate thrust of his makes your cunt start squelching loudly.

Your back arches, lapping onto Okkotsu's chest. He takes the chance to mark your shoulders. Now they'll know you're his. He takes his hands away from your mouth so that he could hear your pretty voice.

"h-holy shit, Yuu.." your voice was trembling and you were stuttering.

“you sound so, so pretty..(Name)“ he hums before he’s deliberately thrusting on a much faster pace, like he’s trying to force more of those sweet sounds out of you, only for him. He keeps up the same pace and almost whining loudly. "you prefer me m-more than him now right? tell me yes pleaseplease.."

"yes, Yuu!" You could feel yourself about to orgasm sooner or later. It's just too good. Yuta could feel you clench on him so hard, he already knew you were close, so he started pounding faster.

"fuck.. m'close!"— He finishes inside, and you both finished together. He pulls out, and falls stomach flat into you.

"(name)— be mine again. Please!" His pleading was enough to convince you.

But what about your 'boyfriend'? You never knew. He never texted nor greeted you ever since that day. Maybe you felt guilty, but Yuta knows exactly what happened. He just wants to reassure you never find out, or you might stop loving him.

Oh how much Yuta loves you, give him everything he needs and he'll be on his knees, i promise.

©fl4r3z all projects belong to me.

562 notes · View notes

changbinsboiledegg · 5 months

Note

skz with a very needy!sub??? 👀

btw your so cool i could give you a big smooch on the cheeks please never stop being cool

Thank you for thinking I am cool. What are we?

GN? Reader X SKZ

(Tried to keep some terms general, if that makes sense. No specific body parts were mentioned except for, yk, d1ck.)

MDNI!!!!!!!!

Warning: Dom x Needy Sub dynamic?, swearing, usage of vulgar language, teasing, some are hard doms, some are soft, usage of seggs toys, semi-public seggs mention, smut (only a little), protected or unprotected seggs— that’s up to you. Lol.

Note: I’m so sorry this is late, it’s been a shit month (year). I’ll learn to spell s*x properly when I’m rich. Until then, it’s SEGGS. (Joking) But regardless, here you go lovely. As always, if no one has told you, Ilyyyy 🫶🫶 If you see any typos, please bypass them I'm sorry.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

Chan

He doesn’t give in easily when you’re very needy. Surely you’re aware of this by now.

But that doesn’t stop you from trying everything under the sun to turn him on and need you just as much as you needed him.

“Please!” You begged, literally on your knees in front of him. He just looked down at you, unphased.

“Please what?” His gaze held you captive.

“Please…” you couldn’t finish that sentence, you brain turning to mush. You mentally cursed, hating that he made you nervous after you so confidently stripped in front of him slowly.

“Come on. Can’t fuck you if you don’t know what you want.” Chan stood firm on his role as your dom.

“Please fuck me.” You finally mustered out, meeting his gaze. Chan smirked.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

Lee Know

Minho knew you were needy when it came to sex, but he specifically knew when you were needy.

He always knew what to do to make your neediness increase. He loved seeing you get so turned on.

Of course, he wasn’t evil. He always gave you the satisfaction you wanted, however, he definitely was going to play with you first.

You squirmed in your seat, trying to control your breathing as Minho remotely controlled the vibrator inside of you. He continuously changed modes, either sending you close to the edge or fueling your need for more.

“Had enough yet?” Minho asked. It was clear that he enjoyed teasing you. You whimpered as the vibrations send shivers through your body.

“I want you!” Your tone a pleading one. Minho took in the sight of you for a moment— a complete mess for him by him.

“I guess you’ve earned it. Come here.”

Changbin

When you were needy, Changbin didn’t waste a second. He wanted to give you what you wanted while still being in control.

You came to him, being extra clingy, knowing the second Changbin became just as touchy with you, he would make you feel so good that you would have trouble remembering your name for the minutes that followed.

You started out slow, mindlessly playing with his hand before it ended up resting on your thigh. Then slowly, he’d find himself sliding it towards your inner thigh, gripping and squeezing the flesh under.

Then he’d feel the result of your neediness and within a few seconds, he’s inside of you, taking you hard to satisfy your neediness.

At least in that moment, that is.

Hyunjin

He’s used to your neediness by now and even enjoys the fact that he’s able to turn you on without having to do anything.

He loves seeing the way you react to his actions, no matter how simple. Hyunjin doesn’t like making you wait, though.

One minute he’s running his fingers through his hair, the next he has you bent over and taking him so well, you forgot about everything troubling you.

“Hnng! Hyun-Hyunjin!” You felt his hand clasp over your mouth as he took you harder— faster.

“Shh, don’t want the others to hear you cum, right?” He whispered sharply close to your ear. You shook your head, but in the back of your mind, you thought about how you wouldn’t mind anyone else hearing how good he’s making you feel.

Han

“Can we sneak to the bathroom or somewhere private?” You asked Jisung, feeling particularly needy that day. Turns out you tend to feel needy at the wrong times.

“Why? What happened?” Jisung was oblivious at first, showing genuine concern. He thought you were having a good time at this party, and you were, but you wanted a different kind if fun.

“It concerns your dick.” You whispered, feigning innocence for the partygoers around you two. By the look on his face, he seemed just as needy to be inside of you in some way.

“Okay, I see now…” he immediately looked towards the nearest bathroom. “What if someone hears—“

As soon as you caught his gaze, you pulled him towards the bathroom. Jisung chuckled, “you know I’m in control, right?”

“This isn’t about control,” you shut the door and locked it, then immediately lowered to your knees. “It’s about need. And I need you now.”

Felix

You’d begged all day, the need for him to touch you in any way that he could was gnawing at you.

And still, Felix continued to tease you, making you beg more just for begging in the first place.

“Felix, please. I’m going to die if you don’t—“

Felix drowned your next words out by crashing his lips onto yours, his hand cupping your jaw just enough to keep your head in place, but not to hurt you.

“Tell me, darling. What is it you want exactly?” Felix’s breathy voice filled your ears once his lips departed yours.

“I need you. Whether it’s inside of me or-or…” you were trembling. Not from fear, but from the aching feeling between your legs. Felix kissed you again, softer this time.

“Lay back. I think you’ve earned it now.”

Seungmin

“No.” Seungmin said, not wavering in his response to your neediness. He knew you’ve been in a constant state of arousal since the event started but he wasn’t about to cut it short just to give in to your desires— or his, for that matter.

You felt a wave of disappointment but understood. You just wished he would do something immediately.

Seungmin looked over at you and discreetly placed his hand on your thigh underneath the table you two were sat at.

“Don’t look so sad. I’ll reward you when we get home.” He winked before gently squeezing your thigh, leaving shivers of need running up and down your body.

“Can you hold out for another hour?” He added in a low whisper, “or are you going to be impatient like last time?”

You wanted so badly to answer ‘yes’ to the second question, knowing your release would be delayed, but at least he’d start immediately.

But your patience always earned you the best orgasms. Fuck. You had to think carefully, and Seungmin was awaiting your response with a half raised eyebrow.

“I can hold out.”

Seungmin smirked, “good.”

I.N

Jeongin was never one to make you wait or delay your release whenever you were particularly needy for him.

Sometimes you wondered who was the dom and who was the sub.

of course, when you two were alone, you were reminded of your role as he filled you up while his hands tightly gripped your wrists, pinning you down into the mattress.

Even as he pounded into you, your body feeling the shocks of relief from the pent up tension between you two, you still felt needy for him.

“Ohmygod—“ you gasped, leading into a wordless cry of pleasure as you felt that familiar knot building up in your stomach.

“You’re so cute. You act like this is the first time I’ve fucked you like this.” Jeongin grunted, his pace unrelenting.

You knew by now that you were in for a long night.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz scenarios

429 notes · View notes

bitethedustfools · 4 months

Text

TWST Story Idea (7)

Yuu = They/them.

Yuu did not go to NRC and instead went to RSA.

Every day, Yuu woke up not to the sun, but to some goddamn random RSA students with cheery faces barging into their room. People followed Yuu wherever they went, dragging Yuu off to somewhere they dubbed 'somewhere fun,' which was definitely not fum at all. and it annoyed Yuu to no end.

It was suffocating, and Yuu swore they were going to die just being surrounded by these goody-two-shoes who wouldn't leave them alone.

If Yuu had gone to NRC before, they would say that RSA was better than NRC in terms of accommodation and peacefulness. In RSA, Yuu could live a lavish life with a soft bed, delicious food, and wonderful decoration. The only thing that ruined their experience was the existence of RSA students.

Despite Yuu's attempts to avoid them, they still managed to find Yuu, whether it be Yuu sleeping on a tree, sitting on a very tall roof, or hiding in the dark under their bed or in the attic. They always found Yuu.

Yuu openly showed their displeasure with no hesitation, unleashing some inappropriate words in front of RSA students and sternly said not to find them. If they failed to understand, Yuu would smack their reaching hand away in anger.

RSA students were unfazed by the whole thing, smiling fondly at Yuu and indulging in Yuu's whims as though Yuu were a child. Their optimistic view sickened Yuu so badly that they couldn't help but distort their expression into disgust and annoyance every time they locked eyes.

Just like before, Yuu's ill-mannered behavior was met with laughter that was rather happy instead of being offended. Yuu was tired of dealing with a bunch of extroverts; they couldn't possibly entertain them all.

Despite being an outsider with a foul mouth and personality, Yuu still got treated right and kindly. Sure, some of them looked wary and were kind of rude, but somehow, they still opened up to Yuu over time. Yuu had no idea how their crude language, rough appearance, and behavior attracted them.

Anyway, the point is, RSA was too friendly for Yuu's liking and too clingy that Yuu doubted if this school really raises royalty because their clinginess sure reminded Yuu of a monkey from how tight they're holding unto Yuu.

They couldn't even understand the meaning of 'don't touch me' and 'I don't want to be friends, so back off,' much to Yuu's chagrin. It must be that optimistic view that made them a brainless bunch of idiots. Well, some of them were smart, but the fact that they still got close to Yuu proved that they were idiots.

In the eyes of others outside of RSA, Yuu was the black sheep of the prestigious, kind-hearted, and good-natured RSA, the dirt on the pure white canvas, the stain on a fine fabric, the one that would never fit.

In the eyes of RSA, however, Yuu was nothing more than a black cat they wanted to spoil despite its temper. Yuu's actions were nothing more than a cat throwing a hissy fit to them, a very endearing, 'scared' little kitty that still hadn't opened up to them.

Grim can be the mascot of NRC, and RSA is Yuu.

Now, imagine a scenario where Neige is talking nonstop to Vil about his new friend, Kitty, with so much sparkle that Vil wanted to barf. He didn't of course, he have a reputation to keep.

Suddenly, Neige called out the name loudly and is vibrating on the spot from sheer joy, and Vil, assuming it's just a kitty, turned around and was met with the most irritated person, oozing dark, gloomy aura at the sight of Neige.

Neige started to direct his attention to Yuu, and Yuu make the ugliest face they could ever make that definitely didn't sway Neige's opinion judging by the stars in his eyes. Yuu then shot a dead look at Vil that clearly said, "take him back before I'm commiting a crime."

Another would be Chenya sneaking into an unbirthday party in NRC to see Riddle and Trey while dragging a very reluctant Yuu who looked like they just wake up from a sleep.

As they sat for the party, Chenya clinked his cup with Yuu, who held it lazily, while speaking in riddles, which Yuu responded to with "shut your damn mouth, fcking cat. You're giving me a headache" prompting a loud gasp from Trey and Riddle and gigglings from Chenya.

Just Yuu trying to live their life in RSA as they stared longingly at NRC.

If Yuu from NRC turned the villains into good, naturally, the Yuu in RSA turned them bad. Can go with the "white=bad, black=good" prompt or yandere route, etc. This is just an idea. Feel free to branch from it.

#twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #disney twst #twst #twst yuu #writing prompt #yandere twst #everyone loves yuu #yuu: *Stares at Kalim then stares at NRC before staring at themself and then RSA #Yuu: Hold up you guys picked the wrong guy #Yuu is so well-loved that if someone told Yuu they would say haha fck off #If annoyance is a level Kalim would be stage 1 and RSA is just pure torture #Yuu gains a reputation for having the greatest mental barrier for living there #Yuu just wants to die really #Yuu needs help not reputation

177 notes · View notes

cursedkeyboard · 5 months

Text

Funnily enough, I've never been too big of a Jason Todd fan. Not because I don't like him, he's a great character, but because DC fails over and over again to give him justice and treat him right.

The number of times alone this boy has been beaten by his adoptive father, betrayed, and forgotten are far too many, far too much.

And the constant portrayal of Jason as this volatile, violent, mindless man is tiresome, lazy in all senses of the word and overdone. I understand that Jason was unstable after he left the pit, I mean, who wouldn't? The trauma of his death alone could've sent anyone crazy, but then to experience everything else afterwards, including having to come to terms that Bruce not only did not kill his murder but also replaced him, leaving Jason to grieve what was once his and what he should've gotten, of course he'd be less than okay.

Again, I'm not the biggest Jason Todd fan but I do wish more people would see just how much good Jason has in his heart, how kind and gentle he can be once his walls are down, when he's no longer constantly analyzing your actions and wondering why would you bother talking to him, getting closer to him.

In my opinion, a man who is so gentle with children, who constantly gives second, third, and fourth chances to people who don't deserve it, who despite it all still wants to make a change and protect the city that failed him, couldn't possibly be anything but the most caring partner. Not just partner, no, also brother and friend.

We all know what he did to Tim and Damian, there are reasons, such as his mental instability at the time and rage, and though those are not excuses, I believe Jason would still drop everything to go save his family. He might complain, he might brood, but family is something important to him even when just looking at them hurts him. He lost his loving mother, stepmother, far too early and it's not hard to imagine that even with all the pain and grief inside his torn heart, the little boy inside Jason still craves the warmth of a family.

Just look at the way he treats his friends, at the way he helps them through situations no one else would, how caring and attentive he is. Jason is gentle, sure, he is rough and mean and he's got blood on his hands, but Jason is made of love.

Jason was made to be loved.

So I think, whether platonic or romantically, Jason would treat you so well. He'd scold you for not wearing warm clothes during winter, "We're in Gotham, you fucking moron, you wanna freeze to death?", all while wrapping you with his jacket or scarf. He'd make sure you're eating at least something every day, and if not, he would immediately put you under his arm, maybe over his shoulder, and take you to the nearest food chain he could find, "I don't want to hear you complaining about headaches when all you had today was a cup of coffee and gum.".

Lord, he'd be torn between freaking out and being extremely annoyed that you got hurt, be it at work, a fight, or just out of clumsiness. But no matter what, his hands would always be so, so gentle when touching you. The tip of his fingers brushing under the injury, as light as a breeze, his other hand holding the back of your neck, or your bicep, perhaps even your hand just to make sure you're there, with him.

Jason would both hush you gently, "I know, sweetheart, we're almost done.", and also tease because he's a little shit at heart, "If you had a little more awareness than a ten year old this wouldn't have happened, idiot."

And physical touches? Oh, love, Jason is a sucker for intimacy.

I know for a fact he wouldn't be comfortable for a long time with anyone in his personal space due to the torture he went through. The trauma would make his skin crawl any time someone got too close or brushed past him, he'd hate it so much because it makes him weak but also because he can't let anyone try to hug him without feeling sick to his stomach.

And with you it's no different. It would take a long time, a lot of trust being built up, conflict and confessions, maybe he'd even open up to you with his head on your lap as you brushed his hair softly, a big, big step for him after years of not letting anyone close. He'd tell you about the Joker, about having hope in Bruce, about his biological mother. And he'd feel vulnerable like a child when you wipe his tears gently without a word.

Once he starts craving your touch, though, regardless if you two have a platonic or romantic relationship, Jason is putty in your hands. Forehead kisses when you part ways, cuddling on the couch while he reads and you're on your phone, thighs touching when sitting close, even a little bit of hand holding when he's stressed and needs to play with your fingers.

He's like a big cat that's constantly making his way onto your chest, stealing your breath and making biscuits on your skin, making sure you're giving him sufficient pats every day.

It's a little part of him that he's barely able to properly allow space for. There's still so much hurt in Jason, so much confusion and desperation, hatred and upset, that he'd probably still close off sometimes, try acting tough so you'd see how fucked up he is, how he's not truly worth of your love.

And yet.

And yet all it'd take for him to go soft and pliant in your hands would be a single touch, cupping his cheeks, brushing his skin softly with your thumbs, right under his pretty emerald eyes, making sure his gaze is on you and only you. Just like that, he'd slump his shoulders and bring you into his arms, breathing a sigh of relief and squeezing you close, your heartbeats synching.

He wouldn't remember when he started feeling safest in your arms but it'd feel like it was since forever. Like there was no one else but you.

Jason was made to be loved, though he is a little broken and a little tainted, lost like a child and hateful like a sinner, your love might just be his salvation, something he's greedy for, selfish for, even when he's so hesitant of somehow hurting you.

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #gender neutral reader #my ode to jason todd because my best friend is obsessed with him

176 notes · View notes

haet-sal · 1 year

Text

Maniac au // jiung x reader SMUT

You should turn back to your rat pack, tell 'em I'm trash

Tags: jiung x reader, non-idol school!au, band kid/misfit jiung, popular pretty aesthetic!reader, reader has female parts but isnt referred in feminine terms Warnings: ROUGH smut, basically a HATEFUCK, 'slut' 'whore' spitting in your face, CHOKING (yeah…), begging for his cock (yeah…), thanking him for fucking you, fingering + blowjob ONLY, cumplay + swallowing it, DUMBIFICATION I think??? Not 2 sure :/

Popular kid!YN broke up with Jiung out of… peer pressure. But of course they still want him back 💔💔 and Jiung will only let them have him on his terms.

2.5k

~~~

You clutch your purse to your side as you wait on the bus stop bench outside of school, occasionally looking back towards the school to see if he was coming. It’s been 2 hours since you’ve waited outside; Jiung was practicing for his band in the music room, and you knew he would come out at 4…

Suddenly you see it, his head of intricately dyed hair, with his bandmates Keeho, Shota and Jongseob trailing behind him. They got on their bikes, and as they rushed to leave the campus, you could tell by Jiung’s face that he did not look happy.

You didn’t look happy either, and it’s not because you had been waiting for too long; it’s because of Jiung.

Ever since you’d broken up with him, and things just hadn’t been right… you just needed to talk to him. And you knew he had to feel the same way, you just weren’t happy without each other.

“Oh hell no,” Jiung muttered loud enough for you to hear, as you ran after his bike. “Guys, go go go—fast!” He started driving the others like you were a bear chasing them.

“Jiung, wait!” You hated this right now, this was putting a damper on your pretty little outfit, and your heels weren’t made to run in. It’s just so insulting, that you had to run after him.

“Keeho,” Jiung demanded with a whine, “pedal faster!”

“What is wrong with you?” Keeho carped at Jiung, “just talk to them!”

“Do I look like I’m in a talking mood?” Jiung started pedaling so fast he’d surpassed Soul, far away from you now. You felt like crying, but you couldn’t just give up. You’d waited two long hours in the scorching sun…

Okay so in retrospect, it was a bad idea to tell your friend to tell your boyfriend that you’re breaking up with him. But Intak had stressed it to you that he could absolutely do it in the most humane way, just trust him!

Now you’re reflecting on your actions! Why won’t Jiung just listen? You get that he’s mad, but he has to.

You decide you would find him at home anyway, if all else fails, and sure enough, there he is, home alone—perfect.

If only he’d open the door.

“Jiung,” you stomped on his carpet outside, “just please open the door? We need to talk.”

“Why don’t you just send Intak to speak for you again? It worked great last time!” he yelled back from the other side of the door.

“Jiung! I’m trying to fix this, do you know how long I waited for you at school today?”

He opened the door. Yanked you inside by the sleeve of your cardigan. “You’re embarrassing the neighbors—how do you expect me to even look at you? After everything that happened?” he demanded. “You sent Intak to break up with me, you couldn’t even do it yourself.”

“It was a mistake,” you stressed, “I thought Intak could explain it better—”

“Because he’s the one telling you to break up with me, isn’t he?”

“Well…” you stammered. “Not just him. Kazuha said… things.”

“They’re always saying things.” Jiung was exasperated. You really started to believe he didn’t want to see you after all. “Zuha and Intak don’t like me, Y/N, you know that. I didn’t think you’d finally start listening to them, though, I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you!” You throw your arms around him, but he stiffened himself, unable to conform into your hug, so you just cup his thin cheeks in your hands. “I’m so sorry, I hate that I did this—”

“I can’t believe I was with someone like you. I should have known before we started dating, you’re just as mean and superficial as Kazuha and everybody else.” You shake your head, eyes filling up with defiance. No, no, no— “Did you tell Intak what to say? Because his speech said, you’re tired of me, I don’t deserve you, and there was that part where he insulted my whole family for being poorer—”

You gasped. “I didn’t know he said that—Jiung, oh my god, i’m so fucking sorr—”

“Of course you don’t know!” He swatted at the wall in anger. “I don’t know what’s worse—that you just let him say whatever to get me off your back, or if you’d actually given bulletpoints to why you’re breaking up with me—1) Jiung’s a freak, 2) Jiung plays band, making him a loser—”

“I don’t think that!”

“Well, Intak said everything you’d ever need to say to me, so please leave now.” he started pushing you out the door, but you push back.

You claw at him, making him close the door, keeping you inside. “Jiung! Wait! I told Intak to finish the job because I couldn't even bare looking at you-because I really cared about you!”

“'Finish the job' are you kidding me? What am I, a mortal combat final boss?” Jiung, with a glance at you, saw your shaking pupils, pretending to rain down tears, and yielded. He sighed. “Fine… fine. I'll agree that you were confused, Intak and Kazuha are assholes that influenced you—”

“I went insane,” you say, “momentarily. Can we please get back together?”

Jiung looked at you with scrutiny. “You were an asshole,” he says finally. “You promise you'll never act that way again?”

“Yes!” You swear there's happy tears forming at the edges of your eyes as you approached him, wanting to dive into his arms like you always used to—but he holds you at arm's length.

“You promise you won't be a jerk again, and we can date, and you won't let those assholes you call your friends get into your head?”

“Well…” you stammered. “Well… Intak and Zuha can’t know we're together again.”

Jiung's eyes flashed with some sort of animalistic rage. “What?!” Before you can explain, he starts to bellow with laughter. “Oh, I’m your dirty secret? You want me to kiss you behind closed doors, it’s sooo shameful to fuck me, is that it? Do you believe everything Intak tells you about me? That I’m some worthless, nerdy freak, not even on your level?”

“Of course not!”

“Why do you even want me back if I’m such a loser, huh? Oh, what, because you want what you can’t have?”

“Ji…” you swallow, looking into his wild eyes. It seemed you’d only dug yourself into a deeper hole with every word you speak. “I really do love you. It’s just complicated…”

“My feelings aren't complicated,” he says plainly. “I fucking hate you. Get out my house—”

“No, Jiung!” You grapple, grabbing at his arms which are forcing you out, like you're in a soap opera. “I’m sorry! Please, just give me a chance to fix it!”

Because you’re holding onto his arms, there’s not much he can do with your weight hanging on—but he yanks his hand back, and you keep holding on, which makes him and you both topple over each other, onto his parents’ strawberry colored carpet.

He’s angry that he even has to be lying on top of you, you didn’t deserve to be close to him, and he’s right—you were a coward and a superficial asshole, but if you could just fix it—you grab his face and pull him in a kiss, desperately wanting him close to you, his familiar tongue in your mouth.

But Jiung immediately pulls away, hands pinning you down so you can’t sneak attack him again. “You’re so desperate, it’s pathetic, Y/N.” But his hands slowly went under the bottoms you were wearing, like it was just magnetic, chemistry, Jiung can’t keep his fingers off Y/N.

You encourage the roaming of his hands all over your body, in fact guiding them so they could feel the best parts of you, remind him what he still loves.

You guide his hands all over your body, under your little pink bra, which he was stretching out as his hand went under it to grope you until your nipple hardened, while his other hand squeezed your butt, nails digging in like into juicy forbidden fruit.

Jiung’s breath hitches as you watch; he’s shaking with anger, but he still wants you, and you hope he could just fuck the rage out and love you like before.

Jiung feels you over your panties, there’s so much hesitation in his expression—like he’s gambling with his pride letting you fuck him again. But he quickly gives in, pushing the wet fabric to the side and wets his fingers, before carefully prodding your entrance, while his thumb rubbed over the clit on top.

You moan and scoot backwards at the sudden feeling, it felt like discovering your clit for the first time, so much feeling in one swipe of his thumb. You whined, "Jiung…"

“Shh,” he snapped. “You better not get smart right now.”

His finger entered you, just the middle one, taller than your own, which curled up and hit you exactly where it felt heavenly, making you moan.

When it wasn't enough, he added a second one, and loved the way your walls felt so tight and warm around them, and with the volume of both digits, he started to pump in and out of you, each thrust coating his fingers in more slick, white on his digits.

You threw your head back and called for his name, fingernails digging into the carpet.

"Good?" He prodded.

You nodded, rocking your hips into him until he was knuckles deep.

"Words," he demands.

"Yes, so good, so, so good, oh, Jiung…" you gave your best pornographic moan, still on a mission to seduce him back.

“What was that you were telling Intak? I’m a nerd with fingers that are good for math and not much else?”

“Jiung…” You could scream, but you focus on your breathing.

“You better be running back to Intak telling him how well I fuck you.” Oh, he's mad… Yes you get that he's mad, but he's actually really mad. “Slut,” he snarled, “it’s almost like you have no fucking shame in you-and look, you’re tight around my fingers, little slut gonna cum?”

You mewled, hard, pushing him back, not willing to take any more humiliation. But it still scared you that he might stop and never fuck you this way again, because, goddammit, no one fucks you like Jiung does.

You grow perturbed, but his thumb against your clit just made a dumb little bimbo out of you, so you jut your lips out in a pout, eyebrows furrowed. “J-Ji… kiss… kisseu…”

Instead of showering you in a million soft kisses like he used to on the good days, Jiung growls at you again, and with the curl of the corner of his lips, he spits on your needy mouth.

"You'll swallow it if you want me to make you cum," he commands, so you do as he demands. He’s holding your orgasm ransom.

It’s wet, you know you’re dripping all over his carpet and his fingers, and it feels like relief but you still feel… empty. You need Jiung so bad.

You had a sweet, pure relationship that you could count the number of times you had sex on your fingers-meaning not that much-and he'd never fucked you like he hated you, so it makes you nervous… but Jiung understands exactly what you want from him once your gaze lands on his crotch.

"You look pathetic right now," he says. "Tell me how much you want my cock now, and maybe I'll consider fucking you."

You glare up at him. “N-no… you wouldn't… you wouldn't just walk away, you were gonna fuck me anyway.”

He scoffs. Suddenly his fingers are out of your wet cunt, and he wipes the slick digits on your bare thighs. "Try me, Y/n."

No nicknames, no softness. He starts to walk away.

You crawl up, on all fours, on your knees, grabbing at his pants. "W-wait! Please!" Now you’re really begging, on your knees even, rather than lying on your back-you'd made it more humiliating for yourself.

"Please, Ji! I-I'm so sorry, and you know I love you!"

"Love me?"

"I do! I do love you, I just-"

"Do people dump the people they love through second-hand?”

“I—Ji! Please! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! I’ll beg like a dog—”

“Shhh.” He’d lost that rage in his eyes, replaced by a calm storm that brewed in the dark pupils. “You’ve swallowed my spit, I think you’ve surpassed patheticness.” He nods at you, so you think you’ve both reached an agreement—you reach out and pull his pants down, the baggy sweatpants coming off easily. He's more than semi-hard from seeing your cunt, but it’s not like he needs you, or even wants you.

“Do you think your pussy deserves my cock?” He asks. “Honest question, really: do you think that?”

You falter. “N-no… no, you deserve… better…”

You see his gaze soften as he looks at you, and you almost think he’d kiss you, but he just reaches forward and pets your head. "Go on, then," he told you. "Go ahead, suck my cock that you don’t deserve."

You stared up his cock for a second, almost in adoration, before you realized what you were meant to be doing, and immediately took it in your warm mouth, tongue wrapping around the underside softly like trying to not break a thin candy.

Jiung gathered your hair out of your face and into a ponytail, as if he werent even affected by your warm mouth around him. "I always did like your hair like this, no matter what Zuha says about letting your hair down," he says wistfully. "You’re such a little dummy. You do everything they tell you to do."

You moaned around his cock, wanting to speak, but the way he was hardening on your tongue meant that he did want you, and you didn’t want to lose that.

"Dating me was, what? The one individual choice you made for yourself? Poor Y/n, they couldn't let you have that. Now you've lost me, and yourself."

He's way too deep, you feel your own spit and his precum dripping down your throat, it’s disgusting but you loved it, loved having Jiung come apart for you like this. You were the only one he wanted to fuck this way, you had to be!

You were tearing up, you didn’t know if it were from his words or your gag reflex straining itself. But you put more work into sucking his cock, pumping it with your hands like you knew would get him cumming down your throat.

"Stop."

He's almost there. You can feel him pulsating in each quivering vein.

"I said stop," Jiung says sternly, pushing your head back with one finger on your forehead. You stop, mouth still wide open, tongue out, like you've seen in all those amateur movies.

Jiung's cum starts to spray white unto your tongue, as he pumped it, and you take it all with a hum. More, more! You hoped he'd finally show you some love at the end of it, but…

He thumbed away your tears with a fake coo. "I gave you my cum, what do you say?"

"Th-thank you…"

"See," Jiung starts to say, "pretty little dummies can be taught, after all."

He stuck his fingers down your tongue, swirling the cum and spit around. "I think you should go, if you stay any longer I might start to feel bad."

He helps you fix your dislocated bra, and the too, and your sopping wet panties he just takes off and throws into his room, they were too wet to wear, anyway. You start to ask if you were back together, if things could be okay again, but he repeatedly shuts you down.

“Go back to your rat pack and tell them I at least fucked you good one last time,” Jiung speaks in low mutters, like he’s too good for you to hear his voice properly.

You missed all of him, especially his voice. He used to be so gentle with you, never once cursing…

“I’m done with you.”

Eyes teary from gagging, you reach out for a piece of his shirt, crying. “Please, no, Jiung—”

“That’s enough,” he says decisively, “we’re over.”

He doesn’t push you away, but he does leave the front door open, where anyone from the porch could see you kneeling on the carpet, eyes filled with tears. It hurt your heart, but you couldn’t be more humiliated than right now, and you gave up, scared of what he’d do if you stayed.

But you did love him, you wanted to say it to him a thousand times now, over and over again, as if that would fix all your mistakes.

#jiung smut #p1harmony smut #p1h smut #p1harmony imagines #jiung x reader #jiung imagines #jiung fic #p1harmony fic #p1h fic #p1h imagines #kpop smut #p1harmony x reader

578 notes · View notes

generalhumancloudalmond · 1 month

Text

Feathers

Yandere!Platonic!Xianyun x Adult!Reader

"I've watched your suffering and your stupid husband for long enough! From this day on, you are under house arrest at home!"

"House arrest... Are you kidding me?!"

You flushed with anger and sadness. How can she even treat you like you were a little kid?! You had a husband and your own house! You lived with him... almost soul to soul! No, she should have come and taken you to Liyue Harbor!

The adepti watched as you started pacing around the room like a cornered animal.

"I'm not kidding. You will sit here under my supervision and guidance exactly until you realize that it is in your best interests!"

You see how she crossed her hands on her chest. You want to continue arguing, but you hold back and instead fall onto the bed with an exasperated groan. Your body becomes weak and heavy from overwhelming emotions. Gritting your teeth, you try not to cry. Maybe your husband was a little rude or... Well, not always on your side, but still!

You felt a soft blanket fall on your body. She carefully covered you and sat down next to you, her hands fell on your shoulders and gently began to massage them. It made you remember your childhood. A happy childhood.

"I know that you are very offended with me right now... You probably even think that I'm restricting your freedom... However, all my actions will only benefit you, I promise."

You remembered how she gently ran her beak through your often tangled hair, how she wailed every time she did it. Now her hands are touching your back, not your head, but you feel so good and it even made you feel calmer. There was a time when you wanted to call her a mother, not master. However, not now...

"That's enough. Don't touch me."

She shudders, her hand freezes and hesitantly she removes it.

"Y/n... I... I understand. I'll give you time to rest, try to get some sleep, please. I'll bring dinner here a little later, and tomorrow you'll meet with Shuyu. She's a very good girl, just like you. I'm sure you'll get along."

You are silent and she pauses for a second before nodding to herself and leaving your room.

Long time ago she missed that phase when you fell in love with some kind of cretin, to put it mildly, gave up absolutely all your training and ran away to him. To a nasty smelly sailor. And when she came to her senses and understood, what happened, you were no longer in Liyue. How she missed you...

She loves all her disciples: Shenhe, Ganyu, you and Shuyu. And of all of them, you were completely inaccessible to her. Because of this, she was on edge when she saw you for the first time in a long time from afar, and broke down when she saw your chosen one swinging at you.

In an instant, she sent him on a short-term flight, which, to his luck and her surprise, only left a couple of fractures and broken limbs on him. However, you were so blinded by your love for him that you could no longer see yourself without him and it was not a romantic relationship that could be called good by her opinion.

That's why she made the decision to return you by force. Of course, you already had your own feathers and you could fly away from her warm nest, just as you did many years ago. However, these feathers are already peeling and spoiled, they are ugly and even more, so they are not safe to fly. That's why she'll have to pull them out and guard you until new ones grow...

#reader #platonic #yandere #platonic yandere #platonic genshin impact #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #xianyun #genshin xianyun #yandere xianyun #platonic xianyun

82 notes · View notes

nightmareworks · 9 months

Text

hi i have been Cooking lancer fic

Once again, we meet Union Auxiliary Pilot, (28th Voidcombat Division, Mercenary Wing Bravo,) ["Kingfishers",] Callsign- VI The Lovers. We meet Miss Allison Wax (she/her) [Her Body, a borrowed face]

And her Loverboy (he/him) [Stone Butch Death Machine]

(both art gotten from @skycrimedraws who NAILS IT EVERY TIME BABY)

"Hey boss man," The words fell out of her lips, halfway through (the next words were a question) when her CO interrupts with "I told you not to call me that." She stops. (She doesn't flinch, its not flinching.) [She kind of just needs to run through some maybes.] For just that moment, there's no one in the body in front of the CO. And then she starts again, words coming back out. "Alright, alright. CO, what's the job you got lined up for me and my Loverboy?" The CO gestured to the spare chair with a file, and Allison picked her way across the floor. (She walked on the tips of her toes, even in the sneakers.) [She walked with a gait to big for her body, like her legs were blades.] {She's En Pointe} She pulled out the chair and sat, crossing a leg across her lap and looking at the CO through her bangs. "The next mission shouldn't be for a while yet, Miss Wax." The CO's voice was always even, collected. That's why they were the CO. That's why they wore Union Grays and Allison wore what she always did. (Just put clothes on Her body) [What kind of clothes did She wear before Allison?] A thought dismissed with the disappointment of nearlight engines. "Really now, CO? How long are you gonna keep me up? More time in medbay?" The CO shakes their head, opening files, going through them. The work seems endless, running a Merc Lance. (But what's Alllison gotta worry about work?) [Gets to wound up, being in a ship conapt too long without her Loverboy.]

"So is it more time with the headmeds?" The CO looks up from the papers and gives that kind of pained smile as Allison snatches a file off the table to read. (One of the ones with the Mission Seal on it.) [Can't read Unionite Legalese for shit.] "No, Miss Wax, you're scheduled for wind-down, but you don't need to go see one of the after-action therapists- unless you feel the need of course." So she started paging through the mission file, going over the after action reports compiled from her Loverboy (From his eye, from his soul.) [The stars are beautiful at 2,000 kmph.] "So there's really no jobs, CO? Not even basic patrols? I get bored when I'm stuck down too long." The CO holds out their hand, and she returns the file. (She likes to feel like she earns her keep.) [That's just polite, for all the things Union offers.] "Miss Wax," the CO begins "I understand that talented pilots get odd without flight." That's the thing about Grays- they're willing to work with you more than they aren't. (Its not that Allison thought they were pushovers.) [Just the most reasonable kind of people, mostly.] I can organize testflights for you, if you see that there isn't more work for the technicians." There's what she wants to hear (But not quite).

"Work's good for me, CO. You wouldn't let a butterfly starve in a jar, would you?" The CO folds the file closed. (Her file.) [The one that says "Obvious signs of long-term Chronos exposure."] Doctors let you read files out this way. Its nice to know they care, at least. CO gives their answer. "Miss Wax, war's a failure and you're a contingency. Glory only comes with time. Take your mech out, call it a patrol if that helps, but my job is to make sure the mercenaries stay healthy and stay flying." There's more, Allison knows there's more, and she stops a moment. For that split second, she's not in Her body. Allison is watching Her sit there, in the chair, in Allison's clothes, across from the CO. (The look on their face is kind of worried.) [People still caught in their meat don't like being reminded of it's hold on them.] Allison picks a maybe, a series of words that seem right, and then the moment is over, and she's back in Her body. "So where are we headed, CO? You can at least let me prepare for the future."

"We're headed to Dawnline, Miss Wax. There'll be work aplenty for you in the Long Rim and beyond."

======

The cavalry technician looked up at the frame he was gonna work on. It was a custom job, one of the Lancers that the Aux had brought onboard when coming out of the Range. Long haul ships for Union do that sometimes, guard presence in exchange for amnesty and escape. Good people get trapped places. He just wasn't sure whoever flew this thing was the best kinda people. "Beautiful damn monster you are." The mechtech murmured under his breath, looking through a sheaf of printouts. Specs for the machine in front of him, an IPS-N Frame the pilot apparently fit together herself. He didn't, really trust the speed listed under its maximum output. That kind of speed would make someone grayout (The speed at which the blood of a human body begins to pool in the limbs, causing the pilot to lose consciousness). Redout even. [The point of g-force at which the brain is starved of blood, and dies.]

He looked up again at the machine and saw it was staring back at him, great singular eye tracking along its axis, to cast its baleful red upon him. He noted it, and looked back to his notes. Looking for if this thing had a casket it in, a C/C programmed to play tricks. The normal shit pilots pull on their technicians. He came up around the great black thing in its bay, and stared it in the eye from the gantry. It stared back, body making the clittering hiss of a mech at rest. (Mechanized Cavalry frames that are in regular usage are rarely quite things.) Coolant pumped through the entire frame, keeping the coldcore under wraps until it really needed to go. Fusion engines, power-reroutes designed along the Albatross style… where the verniers and thrusters aren't shaped for an RPV. (Remote Pilot Vehicles aren't uncommonly retrofitted for pilot use, he notes under his breath) [Under that red eye.] He eyes them again, as the giant thing keeps staring. There isn't any record of a computer smart enough to do anything of worth on this machine.

It was strictly Turning-Compliant, according to the CO's paperwork. That left the damages to repair. Bits of slagged armor along the leg-blades and shoulder plating. Nothing a few hours work with the rigs wouldn't fix. The mechtech flicked a few switches and brought the frame up to the light, to the arms that pulled and printed in smooth motions as his fingers danced across the keys. It was slower going than he thought. And the mech was making a noise. It was keening, a clatter-chatter at once both rumbling low and piercingly high. Something was wrong with the feedback from the mech-harness, reporting simple and blunt legionspace attacks. Best the cavalry technician could manage was to remove the offending plates before the assembly limbs gave up and stalled. That's when a hand touched his shoulder, and a voice rang in his ear. "My Loverboy doesn't know you, mechtech, but I do. Gimmie a minute to settle him down and you can get back to work."

The girl walks past him then, almost teeter-tottering as she glides across the floor on the tips of her shoes. She moves her legs wrong, picking her way as much as stepping. The cavalry tech looks at the mech's legs and puts together the kind of pilot he's dealing with. The kind that have gone in a direction past human, hunting for something else. (He'd never really known someone in full body prosthesis) [Was rare, in his neck of the galaxy.] She moves like her mech even as she steps off the gantry and onto its chest, placing hands against the grinning skull. Ever since she came in, the eye's been locked onto her alone. He worries and wonders what kind of monster he's got to work on now.

===

He screams for her, against the void, he tears away from the cling-gravity of the UNS-CV Paris (Like the commune, she offers) [Like lights, the therapist offers back.] But the past doesn't matter when the future is laid out in the bleeding world of 2000 kmph. She was safe from everything, safe from Gravity itself as she lay coiled in her Loverboy's guts, aching through Chronos haze and picking his flight path for him as a beautiful dance. She wanted him to run through his paces, and he was eager to please. To show her what he could do. How he was built for her. Like a butterfly flitting across a windless sky, like a shark dancing through a school of fish- Loverboy puts on a show for his girl.

She's spinning him a dance, putting the engine to its test. Her Loverboy screams for his girl as he dances, frame keening against the speed and void. (Allison watches Her legs twist against the seat.) [That's how she knew the engine was art] {State-of-the-art affection} She doesn't like to think about home. Not home anymore, and not worth thinking about. More Gravity shorn free from her under the speed. So what's it worth if its pulled away so easily? Home wasn't ever home, no matter how much anyone told Allison it was. What's where you're born compared to where you'll be? (What's the flesh you were born in but another place to be trapped in?) Allison feels her brain reel as Loverboy spins in a piroutte ascending. It doesn't spin in place, but it recognizes the forces working upon it as her Loverboy pulls into a rise. (The snap from horizontal to vertical would snap necks.) [But when you don't have Gravity, moving is easier.]

Verniers howl with force as Allison considers Her. (And the changes Allison had made to Her.) [Would She mind? Would She understand?] There are protective tendons, built from the same kind of whipcord steel that run through Loverboy. There are stabilization systems built into her braincase, that absorb and disperse the shock of sudden shifts of g-force. There's a dozen, a hundred little aftermarket touches to Her body that Allison has made. (But is it really that bad, when the body is aftermarket?) [When the body wasn't built for you.] Allison still watches Her, curled as Allison left Her. (Back curved gentle. Arms on knees, resting eyes against forearm.) [The clunky implants hooking Her to Loverboy peek their tubes from beneath Her shirt] She was still perfect. Still beautiful. Everything Allison had wanted to be back then. There She was, with Allison's brain in Her body, Allison's Loverboy hooked through feeds to Her back.

Allison reached in the stopped little flaring moments between directing Loverboy through his dance. They were all the same moment. Allison reached out, and cradled Her face, and said Her name. Something Allison couldn't ever know. (How was she supposed find Her? Long way from Ketherese.) [From everything from that life.] Everything but her Loverboy. He counts the micromovements of her eyes. His own whirrs and focuses, keening as the scopes hone in on a target and his body twists with his girl's desire. He counts the times she stops existing as a presence registered at the controls. He rolls over and considers in his clicking thoughts the ways he loves her. His adoration burns in him as retros flare and he lands blades first, touching against an asteroid with the grace of a butterfly upon a blossom. His thoughts turn and his computers chitter and churn. His whitewash tanks purge into rawmat resivors and a new batch is rapidly encoded, new chains of acids and code written by mute-drive, a silent organ buried deep in his frame, coiled round and through his girl.

The Hyperkinesis Module develops a novel admixture of nanites and adrenaline and feeds through the connection to Allison, filling her endocrine system with a soothing electricity synchronized to readouts and full reports of engine efficiencies, micrometeor grazes, and heat venting. (His body hisses for her, waste gas for heat disperial in null atmosphere environments) [He bares his heart to her, reactor dropping as he stretches against the asteroid.] Allison leans forward, the Chronos uptake stretching from her back and into the cockpit's back wall. (Little tubes running up to her spine and kidneys) [One of the other aftermarket touches to Her body.] Allison's face reaches through the holoscreen outputs of Loverboy's eye. She kisses the armored outer hull of her cockpit. (She stands to her toes.) And her Loverboy gently touches off the asteroid, into the void, gently floating in the empty place beyond Gravity.

Allison lowers her oxygen uptake, and rides the Chronos her Loverboy made for her. (She dreams like an editor.) [Looking at scenes and picking them.] A wash along the nervous system, stuttering climbing up her spinal column and into the brainstem. She dreams of Ketherese, and what was left behind. Consider the Gravity that's been shed. (In the embrace of her Loverboy.) [Memories are the only thing you can't shed.] Her grandfather's dirt is far from everything she'll ever see again. No one will see the frontiers she sees. (Allison will see things even She'll never see.) [Or maybe they'll see the same stars some day.] {Face-to-borrowed-face.}

No one she had ever known would see what she sees, know what she knows. (She'd shed them, like her old body.) [Like Gravity.]

#lancer oc #lancer rpg #lancer #Allison & Loverboy #they! are! deeply! in! Love!#also allison talks like a freak when she isn't in her own head #kinda love that for her #spacenoids man they're weird

215 notes · View notes

eywaite · 4 months

Text

Curiosity Pt. 2

Romancing Pandora Day: #5 ~ Stepcest

Pairing: Adult Spider x McCosker step-sister reader

Words: 6.5K

Summary: Being curious is a natural thing, especially when such a strange man walks the halls you live in. How can you not ask to have your curiosity satisfied?

Warnings: Aged-up character, NSFW, stepcest, Spider has nipple piercings and a dick piercing, biting, oral sex (fem receiving), P in V, riding, squirting, creampie.

Notes: I'm in love with reader and Spider's dynamic.

Credits: Credit to @cafekitsune for the MDNI and support banners.

Previous Part: Curiosity

Na'vi Translation:

Parultsyìp: Term of affection for children

Syulang: Flower

Sevin: Pretty

Oeyä: My (possessive)

Rutxe: Please

You once thought your life was mind numbingly boring. That you're living through an oxymoron, and to your defence, you're right. But the oxymoron isn't in being a alien on a alien planet anymore – though that fact still bothers you – you now live your life through a crooked lense of right and wrong.

You weren't supposed to be here; sitting in the same chair in the same damn cafeteria for the third fucking week in a row, contemplating your life decisions for the the hundredth time today.

You're supposed to be a xenobotonist, that's what your parents decided you would be since you were three. They'd force you to sit through every boring meeting and help them categorize their damn plant specimens in between the times they're shoving textbooks down your throat and forcing you to babysit your snot nosed little brother Henry.

Sure, you hate xenobotony. And sure, you kinda hate your little brother Henry – Sammy still gets a free pass – but it was a sure thing. Your life was completely planned in a unplannable world that's still so dangerous and unknown to you. You'd probably settled for a way older but still reasonable aged man, get married and maybe pop out a kid or two, it'll be a boring and uneventful life. But it's the only life you've ever known. It was the only stable thing in your life; the only sure thing you had a grasp on. But now you're tangled in this lust filled spiral with the one person you're never supposed to be involved with.

Spider was forbidden; he is forbidden. And yet every night you're sneaking out, hand in hand with this forbidden man, finding the most secluded part of the forest before letting him ravish you until you're sore and pleasure drunk.

You've quite literally throw a boulder against the glass panelling of your life, shattering everything you've ever known for a endless night of pleasure. It's selfish and greedy, yet so fucking irresistible. You've tried fighting your new growing urges, faining plans or pretending to be too tired to spend the night rolling in the dirt. It never worked, you'd always find yourself following after Spider, recreating your first night together all over again or crawling your way down the hall and into his bedroom where he's waiting for you with open arms and a disgustingly cocky smirk.

And yet you can't find anything in you to regret it, not even a minuscule moment of guilt or shame that comes with the reality of fucking your step-brother. Not an ounce of remorse fills your soul when you let that freak of a man do the things he does to you, not a single thought of contrition fills your soul when you daydream about the events from the night before as you're having dinner with your family, never thinking about the "disgrace" you'd be bringing to your family through your actions.

For all you care the entirety of your family can go fuck themselves – Sammy still getting a free pass – and their entitled ways. They can take their future disgrace and high strung honor system and shove it up their asses.

Your thoughts constantly run wild with him and everything you and him could be if your life was just a little different, just shifted to the right course for once, for your choices to actually matter in the pattern of your life. And even then, you know it won't make a difference, if it's not your family something else will make you believe that you couldn't be happy together even if you tried to publicly date.

If Spider even wants to be together; as for now, fucking seems to be the only thing you two ever do together. And he does it so good...

You slam your textbook shut, slapping your forehead against the hardcover surface, letting out a quiet groan into the worn cover. A rhythmic throb has begun between your legs, causing your thighs to clench as your mind happily replays your night with Spider, his rough, calloused hands ingrained in your mind and imprinted on your skin. His fingerprints bruised into your hips and blooming around your neck, hickies darkening the skin of your breasts and inner thighs.

All day your thoughts have tossed you between the rapturous bliss from Spider's god like body and the ever present dark cloud that follows you from your family. The constant hot and cold makes you want to bang your head against a wall repetitively until your dizzy and incapable of making a decision so everyone will leave you alone.

You pick at the cold rehydrated crambled eggs on your plate, poking at it with your fork as you nibble on a piece of dehydrated apple slices. The cafeteria is buzzing this morning, scientists and Avatar drivers alike busying themselves with their morning meals, burying their noses in their notebooks as they study over their horribly handwritten notes.

Henry is loudly smacking his food with an open mouth, mimicking Sammy's clumsy open-mouthed attempts at putting his little spoon in his mouth, your mother too busy writing down new ideas for her studies to help him, letting his mashed baby food cover the bottom half of his face, even somehow getting some on his left eyebrow.

"Why are you scowling, Pipsqueak?" your father questions from his seat at the head at the table at your right, not looking up from his notepad as he questions why you aren't your usual "happy" self. Your open display of frustration against your textbook probably disturbing his peaceful morning breakfast.

"M'not scowling," you counter, reopening your textbook back to the same beginning chapter paragraph you've been staring at for the last hour. "I'm just tired and not comprehending what this chapter is discussing."

"Then you should put those useless doodles you're obsessed with down and actually sleep when you say you're going to bed." you mother pokes at your raw, open nerves, digging at you for loving to stay up late at night and having to get up at the earliest and most ungodly hours of the morning to help with Sammy without complaining.

Your nostrils flare, hiding your now growing scowl behind your textbook, "Mother–" you try to defend yourself but your father cuts you off before you can throw her spite back at you.

"And I don't want to see that scowl later tonight at Norm's birthday gathering." your father quips, settling a quick, stern glance your way before turning back to his notes, taking a sip of his black, bitter coffee.

Henry snickers at your side, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and on his sleeve like the uncivilized beast he is. "Most people calls those 'gatherings' a party, Pop."

The corner of your father's lip curl into a amused smirk, "Only those attending this gathering gets to call it a party, you're babysitting Sammy until your sister comes to take over."

You hide your own smirk as you turn to the next page of your textbook, reveling in the groan of despair Henry let's out, quickly shutting up when your mother sets her hard glare on him, ending his protests immediately.

A familiar figure walks past your table, half naked body sticking out amongst the white coats like a sore thumb, broad shoulders set back with pride in his way of living as he marches into the kitchen, smiling at people as he passes. You feel yourself smile at the casual nature emanating off him today, a bounce in his step as he dodges around the cooks in the kitchen.

"Staring at your sex." Henry taunts you under his breath about your shameless staring. Your heel digs into the top of his foot, squishing his toes under your relentless stomping of his foot. His body jolts from the pain, crying out a loud, "FUCK!" As he reaches down to pry your heel off his foot.

"Henry Andrew McCosker! Where did you learn to use such disgusting language?" your mother reprimands, her expression of pure shock mirroring what you feel on the inside. Your parents are the most fouled mouthed people you've ever met, usually reserving those types of words for when Henry and Sammy were out of ear shot.

Henry glares at you, rubbing his broken, sneaker covered toes, revenge dancing in his eyes, "Well actually–"

To save your own ass you quickly interrupt him, "Is Spider invited to the party?" you ask, shoving a apple slice into your mouth to seem as casual as possible.

"If he is, Miles will do well to remember to clean up and represent this family better than he has been." your mother sneers, glancing into the kitchen at Spider as he playfully punches Norm's arms simultaneously dodging the head swat Dr. Patel throws at him.

Your father recoils at the idea of Spider attending the party, "That brat can stay in the jungle with whatever blue monkey whore he's been screwing." he mutters to himself, flinching at the cold glare your mother settles on him.

The now powder dehydrated apple slice gets sucked into your airway at the quiet gasp you let out, immediately choking and sputtering as your body attempts to get rid of the food blocking your airway. Your face heats up as you start to cough, throwing your textbook down to blindly reach for something to wash down the powder, grabbing the coffee mug your father offers you. You however regret your decision as the harsh, bitter burn of the black diesel like coffee slides down your throat, causing you to cough louder as you gag at the taste.

"Jeez, pull yourself together." Henry comments as he scoots further down the bench away from you, recoiling with a disgusted face at the loud, gravely cough you let out. You're tempted to grab him by his collar and cough directly in his face but instead choose to guzzle the glass of water offered to you by a passing scientist.

"Infectious rodent," you growl out, turning your heated face and redden eyes at your younger brother, vicious intent swimming in your hard glare. "I should shove this glass–"

"Enough!" your mother silences you with a whispered shout, cutting off whatever snarky remark Henry was going to counter with a water curdling stare. "You both will behave yourselves for the rest of the day and especially tonight. And keep this ridiculous banter out of the ears of our colleagues, understood?"

There was no arguing with your mother when she gets let this, treating you like you were a child again and making Henry act older than he is, it was preposterous and purely done in the hopes of keeping her spotless reputation among her colleagues. So instead of arguing and ending this still somewhat peaceful morning with rage filled screams and the possibility of you hurling your textbook at her, you mumble a quick, "Yes, Ma'am." With Henry and leave it be.

You fix your face into a neutral expression, using your textbook as a shield to cover the trembling in your arms, the growing rage and fear traveling through your veins, hoping the hardcover of the book in front of you blocks any other incoming comments and sly remarks from anyone in your family.

The weight of a heavy stare settles on your shoulder like a weighted blanket, causing you to scan over the rim of your textbook for the intrusive gaze, finding a pair of concerned chocolate brown eyes staring at you from across the room. Spider's brows are pinched together as he watches you from the corner of his eyes, occasionally monitoring your family's exchange through his casual conversation with Norm and Max, his worry emanating off of him in waves.

This isn't the same glance Spider would give your family on a regular basis, not the curious looks of a boy watching the only family he has rejecting him from Sunday dinners and watching on as his siblings and parents carry out happy banter amongst themselves, acting oblivious to the person desiring to join in on the family activities.

No, this glare was different... angrier than normal. His darkened eyes darting chilling glances at your parents, clenching his jaw whenever the angry red flush creeps onto your father's face and your mother's cold eyes settles on you. He seemed angered by your cowering form and defeated expression, his gaze going from hard and furious to gentle and caring when he stares at you.

You give him a small smile that you're hoping will calm him for now, but your pitiful smile does nothing but make his already hard expression deepen, shoulders tensing as he now full on glares at the side of your father's head.

You snap your book shut, giving a mumbled excuse of needing a more quiet area to study, suppressing your complaints when your mother tells you to take Sammy with you because she'll be too busy this afternoon before the party to tend to him. You dampen a napkin from the leftover water you were offered, wiping down Sammy's mushy baby food covered face and hands, gathering his sippy cup and bidding your family goodbye.

Your eyes stay glued to the ground, muscle memory telling you exactly where you are by the color of the tiles, just as you're about to pass Spider you purposely drop Sammy's sippy cup, "Crap!" you make a show of looking defeated as you shift Sammy's chubby body to your other hip.

Just as you attempt to bend down and grab the leaking cup of juice, a blue painted hand grabs it first. The warmth of Spider's other hand envelopes your hips, guiding you to stay balanced as you straighten up, giving Spider a grateful smile as you except the cup. Spider's hand never leaves your hip as he tickles under Sammy's chin, "How you doing, buddy?"

Sammy gives Spider a wide gummy smile, smacking his hands against your chest as he jumps, full of excitement at the small amount of attention Spider's giving him. Truth be told, you've always suspected Sammy liked Spider, he always beams up at him whenever he passes, acting beyond excited at the slightest touch or smile. You couldn't blame Sammy for being intrigued or even delighted by Spider's presence, you've learned first hand these past few weeks how calming and peaceful Spider's presence can bring you, something any child could detect. Plus with how bright and colorful Spider is, it's no surprise Sammy was drawn to him. Like sister like brother.

"Oh, we're fine. Hanging in there, but it's a little hard at times." you tell him, catching Spider's concerned eyes for a moment before looking down at Sammy, fixing his tangled curls. "His teeth are poking at all his sensitive spots recently, been making it real hard for him to enjoy his day most of the time."

You peek up at Spider through your lashes, praying he understands what you truly meant. Spider's long, calloused fingers squeezes at your hip, "Don't worry, Parultsyìp, it'll get better soon." he says, ruffling Sammy's curls before leaning down to kiss his cheek. The smooth warmth of Spider's own cheek rubs against yours, his musky scent filling your lungs and turning your tensed muscles into mush. You sigh, feeling your body melt into the smallest touch before it's taken away.

You take your leave, heading out of the cafeteria and leaving your family behind and unfortunately leaving Spider in your wake.

The rest of your afternoon is filled with taking care of Sammy and occasionally telling Henry to beat it whenever he started stalking around, asking to use you tablet or asking you to make food. The hours pass quickly as you stare at the seemingly blank pages of your textbook, looking at the words like they weren't even there as your mind replays your tiny interaction with Spider. His big hands possessively holding onto your body, his soft cheek against yours and his sweet words that he gave Sammy – and inevitably gave you too.

By the time you actually put your endlessly racing mind to rest and start reading, your mother barges into your room. "Get ready and wear that dress you wore for your fifteenth." she barks out, scooping up Sammy and turning off the TV in one swift move. She pauses at the door, "And Y/N?"

You look away from your closet, fiddling with the ruffles ends of your white sundress, "Hm?"

"Stay away from that boy."

Her words send a bolt of anxiety down your spine, clenching your chest and turning your stomach. "What do you mean?" you fake innocent, praying your voice is as unbothered as your expression.

Your mother's lips twitch into a sneer, "You know what I mean, stay away from Miles. I don't need his... looseness catching on."

Sammy whimpers in her arms, big tears developing in his eyes as he starts to sniffle a cry, a growing urge to rip him out of her arms causing your nails to dig into your palms so hard you're convince you'll make yourself bleed. With one last stern glare your mother closes the door, carrying a crying Sammy down the hall and into Henry's den.

Your mother's words light a burning hate in the pit of your stomach, fighting everything in you to not start screaming into your pillows. You rip off your clothes, quickly throwing on the little sundress before fixing your hair. You weren't going to put in any real effort to look amazing like your parents want, not when you'd be leaving the party shortly after arriving just to appease your parents need to show how perfect their eldest daughter can be. It's the same routine you go through with every 'special event'.

Arrive looking neat and presentable, giving people a bright smile and a happy greeting, shake some hands and fill people in on your studies then quietly slip away, go back to your room and spend the rest of the evening listening to the murmered voices and laughs of your parents colleagues. If you're real lucky you'll hear two or three people fucking in the storage closet next to your bedroom.

The bright red fruit punch swirling in your cup is no where near as pungent as the alcohol on the table next to you; there but off limits to you even though you are an adult, can't risk letting their perfect older daughter getting tipsy at a colleagues birthday party. Plus, you'd feel bad making Sammy deal with your alcohol breath.

The cafeteria has been decorated in array of brightly colored glowing leaves and vines, the buzzing lights above turned off so the different colors of Pandora's flora can light the hall up with their natural glow, allowing you to hide basically unseen in the dark corner next to the liquor. Your parents mix and mingle with their friends, cheering Norm on when he downs his seventh shot of the unknown and heavily alcoholic beverage, the last shot needed for the solidification that he'll be in the storage closet with Dr. Rosa once again.

You sip at your beverage, watching different people dance and talk amongst themselves, the classic music playing through the worn out speakers is just loud enough to drown out the growing murmers around you. You watch the party above the rim of your cup, hoping to catch a glance of the only person you truly want to be around right now.

Of course he's not here. Why the hell would Spider hang around a party full of old scientists trying to relive their youth by drinking too much and dancing with no rhythm to songs made before they were even thought of? Plus, with the extra hostility your parents have been throwing his way lately it would make sense that he'd avoid this party like a plague, even if he wanted be here for Norm.

The pounding beat of the music and the mixing smells of different alcohols start to give you a headache, worsening your already souring mood. Your foot starts to tap unconsciously, releasing your pent up stress as you stare expectly at the back of your mother's head, waiting to be released from your duties and allowed freedom.

Your parents are oblivious to your staring, too focused on swaying their hips to the music, giving each other teasing smiles and suggestive looks that makes you want to hurl. Downing your punch, you book it out of the cafeteria, taking advantage of the distraction and running down the hall to the dorm hall. You stop by Henry's room to check on Sammy and find the both of them cuddle up on Henry's bed, cartoons still playing and a layer of yellow chip dust covering their fingers and mouths.

You creep away, letting them sleep and heading to your room with growing anticipation. Your nerves are shot and your body's heavy, your ever step dragging you down even further. You fight the lead weights in your limbs, practically throwing yourself into your room, leaning against the door as you just stand there, letting the familiar scent and feeling of your safe space embrace your tired body.

"'Sup, Syulang."

You yelp, jumping from the sudden presence of a deep voice somewhere in the darkness of your room, uncomfortably bumping into your door, no doubt bruising your shoulder.

"Easy," The familiar voice soothes you, a big, warm hand cupping your cheek with one hand while the other turns on the diffuser on your bedside table. The dark space is flooded with purple light, illuminating your favorite blue painted freak that's standing in front of you. "It's just me, baby."

Your arms immediately find their place around his neck, pulling his bigger body against yours, burying your face into his bare chest. His arms gladly welcome you, squeezing you so tightly your back cracks. "Bad day?" he asks, though he already knows the answer.

You nod, hugging him tighter, "It's never ending." you mumble into his skin, running your hands up and down his toned back to soothe yourself, basking in the content hum it earns you.

Spider sighs into your hairline, featherlight kisses being laid on your forehead and cheeks, making you smile when he kisses the tip of your nose. His rough fingertips all but grope your body, pawing at your sundress to hike it further up your thighs so his hands can make contact with the bare skin of your hips. Your back is pressed into the door, his muscular chest pressing against your breasts and squishing them together, pushing your dress down enough that the curve of your breasts come into view, enticing Spider to lay a deep kiss on your lips.

Spider raises a brow, thumbing over your hip bone with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Bad day equals going pantieless so you can flash people in revenge?"

You pinch his nipple piercings, making him yelp and jump away from your assault, "No, you asshole! I just didn't feel like putting in any real effort tonight." you tell him, pushing him away enough to step out from you trapped position against the door. Trying to find refuge in your bed once again, hide from the booming world under your soft covers and pretend you don't exist, to drift out of consciousness in the warm darkness and hope you can stay like that forever.

Spider's strong grip on your hand stops you, pulling you back into his chest even through your complaints. "Stop griping and let me help you relax." he tries to calm your growing brat like behavior.

You swat at his chest again, faking annoying at his calming touches and gentle kisses, trying to hold onto your anger in hopes it'll make you feel any better, that your anger can boil over to real courage and in the morning you can actually start that screaming match with your parents you've been avoiding for the last couple of months.

Spider grabs your face in his hands, forcing you to look into his big, hypnotizing eyes for the first time tonight. "Hey, stop fighting me, sevin. I'm not going to let you go to bed angry," he reassures you, his warm lips grazing yours with each word. He grips the bottom of your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. "And I'm certainly not letting you go to bed alone."

You roll your eyes, tightening your thighs around his slim hips, tangling your fingers into his untamed locs, pulling him into a searing kiss. Spider smirks into your desperate kiss, big hand groping your ass as he lays you on the bed, placing his heavy weight against your body, pulling your pelvis to meet his tented loincloth.

This is what your crave at every moment of your damning day, desperate for his touch and his addicting body pressing against yours, his skilled hands turning you into puddy as he worships your body, kissing you so passionately you're afraid you'll never find something to fill the void he'll put into your life when he leaves.

The mere thought of his absence makes you want to cry, making you claw at his back to pull him back into you when he tries to pull away, greedily kissing him even as he chuckles through the kisses. "Easy, babygirl, I'm not going anywhere. I'm not gonna leave you wet and needy." he teases you for the spike in your 'horniness', nibbling at the swell of your breast before snapping the thin straps of your disheveled sundress.

You frantically tug and yank the dress off, a flustered heat spreading across your face at the snort Spider lets out, "Damn, you really are wet and needy." he says, eyeing the embarrassing amount of slick leaking from your desperate pussy, covering your inner thighs, making your legs shine in the low lighting of your bedroom.

He catches your hand before you can smack his shoulder again, bringing your palm to his full, enticing lips, laying sweet kisses on every inch of your hand, nipping your fingertips and sucking on the delicate skin of your wrist. His hand splays out against your bare chest, laying you down on your back, "I'll take care of you, Oeyä Syulang. Just relax for me."

His smooth, deep voice turns your tense body into mush, falling back into your mountain of pillows, peering down at him as he slowly makes his descent down. His long eyelashes tickle your skin as he lays biting kisses on your chest, preferring to knead at your tender breasts as he leaves dark bruises on your stomach.

The mischievous glint in Spider's eyes make it's way to his lips, giving you a all too familiar smirk as he pulls your legs apart, long fingers digging into the meat of your thighs and pushing at them, forcing your legs back to your chest to spread you wide open for him.

Spider groans at the slick leaking out of your quivering hole, "Fucking beautiful pussy," he breathes, leaving sloppy, wet kisses on your inner thighs as his eyes stay glued onto your cunt. "Can't wait to taste you again."

Finally Spider laps at your slick folds, silky hot tongue licking over your clit with eager strokes, messily slurping at your aching cunt like it's his last meal. A pleased sigh leaves your kids swollen lips, fingers tightening in Spider's locs as you drag him further into your dripping pussy, trembling thighs squeezing his head when he moans into you.

Spider's tongue is heaven sent, long and skilled as it dips into your hole, massaging your gummy walls until you're crying out, spewing out incoherent moans and pleas. You always envied the bitch that taught him how to tongue fuck so well, regretting the amount of times you declined when he invited you to join him on his adventures when you were younger. If you knew it would've gotten you to become his practice toy you would've agreed a whole lot sooner.

But now you're here, hiding your barely muffled moans with your hand that Spider quickly pulls away, practically sobbing as Spider circles your clit, doing odd, uneven patterns that you quickly learn are letters to his name, claiming your pussy for himself and no one else. Not that anyone else could ever have such a strong hold on you like Spider, you'd never recover from him.

"Fuck, Spy! Fuck– ah! I'mma cum, please, I'mma cum!" you ramble on, squeezing your thighs around his head so hard you would be afraid you'd hurt him if it wasn't for the very pleased groan it earns you, hand fisting his locs in a painful grip as your back arches off of the bed the same time your hole clenches down on his tongue.

Your body goes heavy and limb against your bed, muscles achy from how tensely you've been wound the last couple of days, finally getting some relief to your overly tired brain as you lay mindlessly on your bed. Spider wipes his wet chin with his hand, licking your juices off his palm before climbing back up your body and nuzzling his nose against your cheek, something he was very fond of doing. It mimicked that of what the Na'vi do to mark who they belong to, rubbing their scent into each other's skin to ward off any others from trying to stake a claim on already claimed territory.

You lazily pet his cheek, resting your forehead against his as he affectionately nuzzles you, the sentiment so endearing you find yourself leaning into his rubs, following his movements as your own nose rubs along his cheek. The entirety of Spider's body hovers above you, supporting his weight on his elbows as he only lets a small amount of his body settle onto yours, even then you can still feel the stiff press of his hard cock straining through his loincloth on your thigh.

Your hands wander down his smooth chest, teasing his nipple piercings just enough to get a laugh out of him before venturing further down, your smaller hand cupping the ever present bulge enticing you with every passing second.

Spider flinches at your touch, hips automatically rocking forward to grind into your hand. "Tonight's about you, Syulang, I don't need it." he tries to convince you, directing his efforts in distracting you by taking your perky nipple into his hot mouth, rolling it around his tongue until your eyes begin to flutter close.

But it's not distracting enough, not for what you're craving. You want to embrace your sin and forget the world around you like the mere presence of Spider has distracted you so far. Squeezing down on the bulge, Spider whimpers into your chest, doing small, aborted rocking motions into your waiting palm, grinding his piercing against the coarse fabric of his loincloth.

"No, but I want it. I want you, Spy, so please, if you're here with me then give me everything." you softly plead, pushing on his chest until he starts to move, pretty face all scrunched together in confusion as you guide him to lay down. That confusion quickly disappearing and being replaced with a dazzling and excited smile as you straddle his hips, sitting your leaking cunt ontop of his covered erection.

Your fingers slowly pull on the messy knots holding his loincloth in place, teasing his sensitive skin by dragging your nails down his panting chest and stomach, tickling his pronounced V line with the very tips of your fingers. You lift yourself just enough to slip the offending clothing off and throw it somewhere on the floor with your dress. You bite at your bottom lips when you see your favorite things; his pretty piercing.

Your thumb catches a droplet of precum, spreading it around his leaking tip, enjoying the little jump he does when your slather his sensitive piercing with his precum. "Can you stop ogling and let me fuck you already, baby?" Spider taunts from below you, gripping your hips so he can drag your dripping pussy across his shaft, trying to pull you close enough to slip into your warmth.

Spider rolls his eyes when you smack his hands away, standing on your knees as you line him up with your entrance, cooing at him when you 'accidentally' bump his throbbing piercing against your clit before slowly sinking down on his impressive length.

You'll never fully get used to his size, never fully be able to adjust to the way your cunt stretches around his thick cock, the feeling of your insides moving around to accommodate for his size. Spider groans under you, lifting his hips to meet your slow descent down, squeezing your thighs so hard you're sure you'll have bruises to cover for tomorrow.

Your clit rests on Spider's pelvis, a delicious pressure against the bundle of nerves causing you to whine as you experimentally roll your hips as you fully sit on his cock. Both of you are panting, clawing at each other to pull yourselves closer. You purposefully wiggle your hips, yearning for the desperate moan Spider gives you. "Hm, told you, you were the subby type."

Spider's pleasure filled face collapses into a scowl, his fingernails biting into your plush hips as he rolls his cock up into your aching walls, surprising you so much you jolt up with a gasp. Spider yanks you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you to keep you steady as he starts his brutal thrusts into your greedy cunt, pounding into your sweet spot with ever deep, quick stroke.

You squeeze and hug Spider's sweat slicked body as you bounce ontop of him, moaning and whimpering into his ear, whining at the sting of his teeth biting into your shoulder to hide his own pleasured noises. His cockhead repetitively rams into your cervix, piercing massaging your sweet spot as his throbbing shaft pulses with your gummy walls, your clit grinding and sliding against his slick covered pelvis.

You're surprised by how quickly your body begins to react, building into another intense orgasm faster than ever before. You squirm and grind with every memorable thrust Spider gives you, half afraid you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow but truly not giving a flying fuck, not when he feels this good rearranging your guts the way he is.

"S-Spider," you whimper, your thighs shaking around his hips at a particularly hard thrust. Your words dying on your tongue as you sob into his skin, clenching down on him, the numbing heat in your lower stomach travelling to your limbs and clouding your mind.

"What is it, Oeyä Syulang," Spider pulls your face away from your hiding spot buried in his neck, bringing you into a hot, needy kiss, nipping your bottom lip until you whimper. "Tell me what you want."

You moan into his mouth, "Wanna cum, please let me cum!" you beg, squeezing down on him again.

Spider's hands fall to your ass, squeezing the soft, pliable flesh as he uses the leverage to rock you up and down on his length, moaning with you at the new angle his piercing is dragging at. "Take it, baby. Take what you want and make yourself cum."

You push yourself up on shakey arms, using Spider's strong chest to stabilize yourself as you grind down, pushing his pulsing piercing into your sweet spot and dragging your clit down on the smooth skin below you, creating an addicting, mind numbing pleasure that shakes through your body, your loud cries being drowned out by the obscene sounds of wet skin slapping together as you squirt around Spider's cock, your rhythmic throbbing triggering Spider to quickly sit up, in an attempt to pull you off his aching cock.

Spider tenses when you push him back down, moaning as he taps your thighs frantically, trying to push you off before he cums, your inviting walls almost proving too much for him as he whimpers for relief.

You shake your head at him, clenching down around him as you lift then drop yourself down on his pulsing shaft. "Nu-uh, baby boy, I want you to cum in me." you thumb his nipple piercings, pushing at his raw nerves. "Rutxe, Spider, cum in me, I need it." you purr into his ear.

Your broken usage of the Na'vi word begged into his ears is like heaven to your special freak, breaking his last ounce of resistance, moaning for you as his hot, thick seed paints your walls white, filling you up so much it spills out and collects into the growing puddle of your slick and sweat. Spider seems to cum for forever, whining as you rock your hips to grind your overstimulated clit on him, prolonging both of your orgasms.

Both your bodies go limb against each other, too tired to even pull out Spider's softening cock as you lay on each other, Spider just barely rolling you over so you can be cradled into his side. Your racing mind finally feels at ease, every troubling thought completely fucked out of you.

Spider finds your hand laying on his chest, lacing your fingers together as his thumb traces soothing patterns into the back of your hand. His gentle touch and caring actions are like a gut punch, stirring your heart so hard with anxiety and the growing love you have for this boy you're convinced this is what a heart attack feels like.

"Hey, Spy?" you call out to him, not looking up from your spot cuddled into his side.

He hums, shifting down so you're face to face, rubbing his nose along your cheek with his eyes closed, obviously enoughing himself. "What's up, sevin? Already ready for round two?" he teases knowing how insatiable you've been lately, probably expecting you to start begging for more as his lips curling up into a smile.

You ignore his crude teasing, nudging your face into his so you can hide under his chin. "You're my safe person; the only person I truly trust." you admit, terrified you've ruined the one good thing in your life by your unneeded display of sappy emotions and love he doesn't reciprocate.

There's a long moment of silence, neither of you knowing what to say as the silence drags on. Your stomach churs with fear, your hands splaying out on his chest to push him away but he stops you, "No," he says, pulling you back into his ever welcoming embrace.

His soft lips meets yours in a long, gentle kiss, pulling you back for more even when you start to pull away, his every touch begging for just a little more, just one moment longer. When you do finally pull away to take a much needed breath of air, Spider cups your cheek, "I–"

Whatever words you'd beg to hear from Spider are cut off as your door slams open, Henry's silhouette standing in the doorway. "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓼: @tallulah477 @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @blue-slxt @sulieykte @puddle-nerd @softsnowydreamer @fadedpetal @xylianasblog @fuckyoumakeart @luvv4j4ybe11

#romancingpandora2024 #avatar spider #spider avatar #spider socorro #spider socorro smut #miles spider socorro #miles spider socorro smut #spider socorro x human reader #spider socorro x human reader smut #avatar #avatar smut #atwow #atwow smut #avatar the way of water #𝓣𝓲𝓻𝓮𝔂𝓼 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼

94 notes · View notes

daniyummy · 2 months

Text

I'm sorry for this being late! I was sick all week and just had zero motivation, but here's the fanfic from my voting, and they have spoken, they want a Colby fanfic! Genuinely excited for this!

I want an angsty story, so, here I am!

Part 1 | Part 2

Use of Y/N and cussing

Happy reading!

—————

Sure, Colby had hooked up with plenty of girls, but never a long term relationship. And, yeah, he's had a few girls that stayed for maybe two months but he got bored of just sex and them begging to go public after barely two months. How was he supposed to react when he got a woman?

"Girls and women are the same thing, brother. Just another girl after your fame." His friends would tell him, and as much as he knew that his precious woman would never treat him like the girls in the past did, he was still scared. How could he not be? He's never had a real woman. He didn't know how to act. It was just different. Naturally, he started acting like a douche. staying out late with no clear answer on when he'll be back, and most nights be won't even come back until the next morning.

You, obviously, were getting tired of this behaviour.

"Colby, what the fuck? Where were you all last night?" You look at him in frustration, so close to screaming at him. "Calm the fuck down, jesus christ. I was with Sam and a few friends." He replied, not sounding the least bit interested in having this talk again. "Do not tell me to calm down. You could've at least texted! I was worried!" You're voice on the brink of raising. You were fucking pissed. Nearly five months of this shit.

"Does it really matter that much? I'm safe." Colby replys, he groans, his head pounding from the hangover. "That doesn't mean I don't deserve a fucking text. You're treating me like I'm just an annoyance to you at this point." You huff and cross your arms. He snorts. "Not wrong there." He mumbles and your eyes widen, you laugh. "You know what? Fuck you, Colby Brock. I'm done with this shit. We've been dating for nearly five months, and you still treat me like a hookup! We're done. Get out of fucking house, now." You demand. Colby sits up and looks at you. "Over a text, Y/N? Grow up." He chuckles, yet in a condescending manner. What a prick. Did he think he was too good to be broken up with?

"No, Colby, not over a text. Over your lack of commitment. I get it, you've haven't had healthy relationships in the past but you can't just assume the worst." You look at him in anger. "Don't raise your voice at me, Y/N." Colby ordered, you laughed. "Shut the fuck up, Brock. Do not tell me what to do. And get out of my apartment." You yell, he rolls his eyes and stands up, grabbing his phone and walking out of your room to grab his backpack, not realizing the gravity of his actions. "Leave the key." You cross your arms. "What?" His eyes widen.

"You heard me, leave my key." Those words pull him back to reality as he reaches in his pocket for your spare apartment key you gave him. He sets it on your counter and leaves your apartment, his shoulders slump as he heard the door lock and he walks downstairs, taking his phone out and calling his friend, Sam. "What's up?" Sam asks, Colby sighs. "Can you pick me up?" Colby sighs. "Thought you were with Y/N until we leave tomorrow?" Sam questions confused. "Yeah, well, she broke up with me.." He mutters, shame and sadness in his voice. "Oh, shit..why?" Sam's concern evident in his tone. "I don't want to talk about it right now, too hungover. Just please come get me, man.." He rubs his eyes. "Yeah, of course, send your location."

After a long 15 minutes, Sam's car slows down in front of Colby and Colby gets in, Sam looks at him with a raised eyebrow. "I was a dick. I rarely told her when I'd get home, where I was and who I was with. I messed up, man.." Colby voice breaks and he covers his faces, trying not to cry. Sam looks at him in pure shock, he's never seen him nearly cry over a girl, hell Colby barely cries in front of same. "Shit, brother..you must've really liked her.." Colby looks at Sam. "I loved her.." He mumbles, love is not a word he throws around a lot.

They arrive home and Colby immediately goes to his room, he lays in his bed and holds back tears. How could be be such an idiot? He lost an amazing girl. He grabbed his phone and went to check social media, his eyes starting to water as he noticed that you blocked him in everything, besides Instagram. You didn't use it much, so you most likely forgot. He was quick to make a post, he posted a picture of you two, you cuddle into his chest as he smiled and took pictures, he typed a caption explaining how he was a douche and how much he was sorry, asking you to talk to him and ending it with a "I love you, Y/N. That's not a word I say to everyone, you're the first girl that treated me good and I took advantage of that, and I'm sorry. Truly."

He posted it and it got over a a million likes and hundreds of thousands of comments tagging your account and asking him if he's okay.

He just hopes you see it.

—————

The end! Yes, there will be a part two and I'm happy with how this turned out, let me know if you have any suggestions for part two and feel free to send requests as well, tell me something I could do better for future fanfics! Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated!

Thanks for reading!

-★⋆Dani⋆★-

#colby brock #colby x reader #colby brock angst #sam and colby #sam golbach #daniyummy

75 notes · View notes

glassrowboat · 3 months

Text

Silken Shadows (Pt.1). Pantalone.

Summary: You had many customers, many clients. Regulars even. They dragged you along to dinners, to drinks at bars as they chatted about something you couldn't care less about, and to parties of all sorts. All something that came with the job. What you weren't expecting, however, as you stood on the corner of a side walk cursing the chill in the air as you waited for the latest job to come pick you up was a fatui harbinger. Well, you were told it would be a big money job.

Word count: 4300+

Authors note: I'm not sure how long this is going to be, but probably less than fifteen chapters? But someone had to give this old man some love, so I took it upon myself.

Also, the reader is a hired date for anyone who needs specifications.

Links: TBA

Shards of glass sat around him like glistening stars as a pale light streamed in through the large windows of Pantalone's office. Nonexistent constellations were to be found in what was scattered around him in his own personal galaxy. Bits and pieces are as large as one's finger and others as tiny as diamond inlaid in a ring. The only difference being: it wasn't gold encasing a jewel that shined under every twist of the wrist as it reflected a candle's flame, but a wooden floor. One he had taken great pride in picking out once upon after first receiving this office.

Time had scratched its lacquered surface.

How typical.

Another thing he can't control. Just like the natural instinct to grit his teeth so tight, Pantalone can hear them grinding against each other in protest, crying out for some form of mercy.

It made his jaw ache. Yet his lips still twisted into a smile.

They had to.

Even if Pantalone couldn't help but want to physically recoil at his own image, his reflection in the glass at his feet. An aged label with yellowed spots attached to what was left of the bottle, an 817 vintage from Fontaine, the only thing blocking where his narrowed eyes would be in this warped copy.

All the while, one thought kept replaying in his head, repeating like a broken record slotted on a gramophone: that damnable woman.

Signora canceled on him.

Right before a banquet that was supposed to be quite the occasion at that.

It would have given him just the perfect chance to introduce the frosty diplomat, his fellow Harbinger, to a colleague of his. A man just as like minded as Pantalone when it comes to the exchange on mora. A fellow businessman, to put it in simple terms. Someone who also speaks in the turnover of gold from one hand to another.

A man who could prove beneficial to Pantalone had the right opportunity to familiarize himself but man but all the ‘Fair Lady’ had to say, in as arrogant sounding voice as she could muster, for that Pantalone was sure, was that she's being shipped away to Inazuma soon. For the gnosis in accordance with the last meeting's conclusion, of course.

That, however, didn't change the fact that she wasn't leaving right away.

There was time she could use, to leverage if she so wished, but now he was left with a tree that wished to bear no fruit. There would be no sweet taste of a win today, of another deal secured at this rate. What a wasted opportunity.

Not to mention, he was still expected to show up with someone on his arm in accordance with the invite marked with a check right on the box for a plus one.

All that right after La Signora didn't even bother to sit down, to go through the proper greetings and laybe even have tea with him to share this bit of information. Rather, she stormed in as Pantalone was drafting out a contract, unfortunately startling him in the process as the door slammed against the wall behind it. It was enough to have the ink scrawled out under his hand smudge as his hand curled around a black fountain pen at the idea that her uncaring actions would leave a dent in the drywall.

Surprise. It was never an emotion he cared for, but it was all he was being given today. Or at least that's how it seemed.

The floral scent of the ink he specially ordered to refill this pen the last time it emptied out from pages upon pages of tireless work that had led to an ache in his hand was the only thing to sooth Pantalone's otherwise swirling mind as he figured out where to go from here.

That here has led him to Columbina.

Her saccharine smile when he slipped into the music room was familiar, something he was as used to as a well-worn book as she held up a singular finger. Asking for one moment more.

The song on her lips quelled only when she was ready.

Besides, it would be unbefitting to ask her to stop with the nonsense already as her voice rose to the heights of the pure white room. One never cuts off the star of a stage, on or off of it. Columbina had a way of bringing the notes to life, of making any eye believe you could see the sheet music she had long since memorized to the point someone might just believe they could see those ever perfect lines of five weaving around columns all up until Columbina took her final bow.

Pink and black hair covering her face still as his hands clapped together, the metal bands wrapped around his fingers, causing a small ring each time they collided. “Wonderful as always, Damselette.”

“I am always exultant to have a proper audience.”

Her head rose from its low hang with a grace only she could have. Every action she took was akin to a bird flapping its wings to soar among the clouds. Fitting for a dove.

“As much as I would like to sit down and show you proper respect and courtesy, Columbina, I am afraid I am too short of time for such a luxury.”

The event is, after all, tonight at 8 o'clock sharp, and while Pantalone has always heard it's fashionable to arrive late, it was never a practice he appreciated others participating in. He wouldn't deign to be the outlier to such a basic rule when there was no need for such.

He didn't need to arrive late to get anyone's eyes to fall on him in rapt attention. The citizens of Snezhnaya knew what his time was worth. As for those who did participate in such boorish behaviors? Simply put, they were not worth the precious minutes that could be delegated elsewhere.

“First and foremost, are you otherwise preoccupied this evening?” Pantalone asked.

Columbina turned her back to him with ease, fingers fiddling with the sheet music before her as she scribbled something down he could not see. Not that it mattered. If it wasn't the very notes she was just singing, it would be an indent on the piece written in a language far older than he.

“Now, what would you want of me that requires I not be ‘preoccupied'?”

“That Marquess in the West, you and I both know the one, has come to the main city for a short reprieve and is holding an event.” As Pantalone spoke, he stepped further into the room, taking care not to scuff the white floors with his own black shoes. “One that does not require a show of a song, but I'm sure they would not deny it if you offered.”

A gentle series of clicks continued until he was standing beside her.

“So, you want me to act as your substitute plus one since the one you originally planned to invite canceled on you at the last minute. Is that it, Regrator?”

Her tone had Pantalone wanting to click his tongue, but he resisted the urge.

“A regretful circumstance I shall have to amend in the future. If you agree to my proposition, that is.”

“The Fair Lady truly pulled that lavish rug under you. Something I do not see often.”

Pantalone kept from looking down at her, instead keeping his eyes instead fixed on the musician's stand, his gloved finger ran over. It would be lace covered eyes and ribbons galore as usual. Nothing he hasn't seen before at every harbinger meeting or the times they cross paths through the ornate halls of the palace, most of which have him catching the sight of her scuttling into this very room.

The faintest layer of dust now coated his finger that had Pantalone itching to grab the handkerchief tucked away in his pocket to wipe it off.

The Damselette always did tend to scare the maids off.

“As stated before, I am currently lacking time. Your answer would be most appreciated.”

“Oh, right, that.” Columbina mused. “Steak dinners, champagne, maybe even chatter amongst people who are delightful company. Just like my plans for tonight with Arlecchino.”

Of course she didn't lead with that.

That means two possible options off his already lackluster list of those to invite along.

The last words Pantalone was given before he walked out with a bow of his head to the higher ranking harbinger was “I hope you find someone to fill the empty seat beside you tonight.” Only for the song to continue on like nothing happened, like nothing interrupted, like he didn't even come in at all.

He made sure to leave the door cracked open on his way out.

Sandrone was all the same, giving him a no. The only difference was she spit the words out like venom the moment his fist knocked on her workshop's door and she flung it open with a flourish, covered in oil and the finest grinds of aluminum that flew in the air. It had him cleaning his glasses off as he walked away.

Lenses punched between the fine fabric of his handkerchief as he went over what to do from here.

If it wouldn't reflect poorly on his image, Pantalone would just show up alone. Wave it off and say his date was busy. Yet here he is, arm twisted. Social expectations are truly the bind that holds us all as he couldn't simply message the Marquess on the fly with something along the lines of ‘I couldn't dain to bring a date after my plus one canceled on me.’ Signed the Ninth.

If it wouldn't come across as poor care for attention, bringing his most trusted secretary along would be a viable option. That is if that very employee wasn't a married man who was only just rambling about plans to take his partner out for dinner earlier this very day. It was their five year anniversary being married, as he recalled. He had even given the man a gift in congratulations.

Dottore would at least prove to be an entertaining option. One segment or another would likely get stuck along his side, maybe even the one with the pink bow tie, and it looks like he's ready to bite the finger off anyone who approaches.

No, best not.

Little options left. If any.

At this rate, his arm would get stiff as it's tugged and twisted into position.

Well, there's always the place a certain man, a debtor, mentioned last time. His whining was just the perfect pitch that made it hard to ignore as Pantalone's guards tore apart his shack of a house apart in an attempt at finding the funds he was due. Only a measly fifty mora that would prove no use in taking. One can not pay if they can not work as starvation tears them apart from the inside out. The excuse? He went to one of those houses in the area.

Exchange time for a woman's company. Nothing he hasn't heard before. Nothing he isn't familiar with. The Northland Bank served customers of all walks of life.

The name, however, was one that rang a bell in Pantalone's head. One that sold a woman's time over her body.

This is what he has been backed into? Truly?

Still, he called the guard that was stationed by the doors he just walked though, fingers snapping to get this individual's attention as Pantalone told them to find a messenger. The need to tell them to be quick about it would be nothing short of an unnecessary addition. They knew that well enough by now.

Steps filled the hall just as the creaking of loose floorboards did. They had long since needed to be replaced but actually getting around to hiring someone to do that had been waved off time and time again that everyone had since learned to simply live with being woken up in the middle of the night by someone trying to get a cup of water.

Loud and clear with each echo.

Making the hand that wrapped around your arm and pulled you up off the stool, just another thing you expected as a shrill voice cried out to get your attention. Scratched and broken from what was no doubt the cigarettes The Madame might as well switch out for her meals filling your ears while she jabbered about whatever had her coming to you this time.

That being: a job.

It was no wonder then why a wet rag was being shoved into your face, trying to wash- or better yet- scrub off the powder on your face. Messy blobs of green and pink having been painted on your eyelids the same way a crayon would a child's coloring book, only becoming more of a mess to handle at this treatment as your nose scrunched up as the fabric rubbed against you.

“Wash this shit off your face and give it a real try, kid. Don't know why you keep letting the bucket girl apply makeup on you.” That old hag barked out. In as good of a mood as any as she pulled her hand back to finally give your skin some reprieve. “And try to keep yourself lookin’ real good. This client has some big bucks to spend, and I don't need you messing it up like last time.”

“You always know just what to say.” You retorted as you snatched the rag away from her to wipe the eyeshadow off your face properly. Gently.

Even going so far as to lean down to get a proper view from the vanity and its cloudy mirror to make sure there wasn't a speck of makeup left.

“This ain't your usual crowd, kid, but you're going to high tail it out of here in your best dress and meet this guy two blocks from here so some carriage can pick you up.”

“Ahh, one of those guys. I'm on it. And do me a favor and don't bully the ‘bucket girl' while I'm out.”

It wasn't a surprise when the Madame threw a quick “no promises” over her shoulder as she left the room, leaving you to get ready. Brush already in hand as the door slammed shut. Most likely her doing, but you chose to think of it as a simple draft of wind as the bristles brushed through a soft pad of pink.

The same pink of the gloves you currently dawned. Fingers twitching with each passing minute to keep blood pumping through the digits you were breathing on, trying your best to keep yourself as warm as possible while standing at the usual spot for clients that needed to pick a girl up a few blocks away from the Marmeladova house.

Sure, they had their reasons, but it always came across as the clients having no sense of decorum for a freezing lady. A frozen tundra of a nation, yet they still expected you to stand on the street like a hooker trying to call in her five hundred for the night.

How charming.

Not.

It was when you were pacing back and forth, kicking up bits of powdered snow with every step, did the rolling of the carriages passing by on the street lead to one stopping right before you. Wheels turned stock still as the lines behind painted a clear path right to you. It's not an accidental pullover by some temperamental horses then. Though if you only looked, such a thought wouldn't have even crossed your mind in the first place.

A carriage with golden accents, horses with shining leather straps, a coachman in clothing that looked actually weather appropriate, and a Fatui symbol stamped right before you. Like the sign to a haunted house as the other girls drag you inside, claiming it will be fun, only for you to walk out annoyed and grouchy at the lackluster experience.

Something told you this wouldn't end that way.

A footman, or at least you assumed that's what he was when he was wearing the Fatuus emblem and one of those masks you see the soldiers wearing so openly while walking around without a single care in the world besides holding their heads high pulled the ornate door before you open.

A hand held out to help you up along the steps that had a nice coat of snow dusting them only knocked away by the heel of your boot while ducking inside the red velvet walls. Instantly, you could tell it was warmer in here from the moment you sat down. The thing probably insulated for what reason would you put yourself through the agony of the cold when you can simply buy your way out of it?

At least, that felt like a fair comparison as your eyes met those of a man you've only ever seen in the newspapers. Most of which were fished out of the trash from nicer neighborhoods to use as kindling, but that face was unmistakable.

“Lord Harbinger.” You found yourself saying as you greeted the figure before you. Your own words sounded like they were coming from another's mouth as they were drowned out by the curses flying across your mind. Faster than any bird in the sky or whizzing bullet as he greeted you back.

The shock of it all had you a reeling mess, but not enough so to miss the ice tune of Pantalone's voice as he said “A pleasure to meet you, miss.”

In the very least, this would give you a decent idea of where you stood in this dynamic.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

Your hand was held out between you both on instinct, hanging there for a moment under the small lantern that lit the carriage with the curtains closed shut. Like a barrier to the outside world.

The shake was strong, sturdy, and his leather gloves did little to help you figure out anything about this man the public didn't already know.

An example being how he'd surely have a writer's bump. A man whose bread and butter is contracts surely knows how to hold a quill. How curious. Not as much, however, as the Lord Harbinger wiping his hand off on his jacket the moment yours left his. A folder occupying the other he was holding out to you.

“Read this over and try your best to memorize the names inside.”

With little to no choice otherwise, you took it from him. The folder failed to bend back under your touch as you opened it, not even when your gloved fingers rubbed the material between them as the names were run over again and again in your mind. Good quality, as he expected, as you took in the long list.

Far too long actually.

“I expect you to remember as much as you can, but I'll be there to assist you all the while.”

Your eyes flicked up to look at him, meeting his gaze over the folder. “Assist me all the while?”

“I am to be attending an event tonight. Do I need to piece out more for you, or can you truly not ascertain things for yourself?”

Something about his smile rubbed you wrong. You were once taught that if someone was truly smiling, out of joy, or some bull along the lines of being a happy person naturally, their eyes would have wrinkles creasing at the sides. His lacked that. Though it was hard to tell exactly if that was the case when they were closed.

But could a smile so freely given from a Harbinger be…? It's best not to finish that thought. He's still your client.

“Don't doubt me just yet. I haven't even had the chance to prove myself.” You said, matching his smile in turn.

“Then please, don't disappoint. First, however,” you could barely catch his eyelashes moving when the wheels started to turn again at the simple rap of his knuckles against the carriage roof.

Whatever that meant would prove little to mull over as you leaned back into the cushions.

You later learned that was him giving you a look, or as close to one as Pantalone could manage behind those thick spectacles of his you were tempted to break as he walked into a dress store, picked something off the rack, and stated it would be what you were going to wear tonight. No input from you, no double checking to see if it fits. Not to mention, the fabric had been irritating you from the moment it adorned your skin.

How you wanted to claim it rested upon your body like silk, but it was more like that one scratchy blanket you always get stuck with as everyone else steals the nice ones.

At the very least, it was pretty. Had a decent range of movement, too, as the Lord Harbinger dragged you along by the arm he interlocked with his as you were met with new face after face.

Some of the names you could recall reading only an hour prior, others not so much.

Giant grins.

Pretty women with ornate hair styles.

Champagne glasses.

The moment you picked one up, Pantalone plucked it from your hands and hissed as low as possible for only you to hear “I am not paying you to drink.”

This was nothing unusual, the event, that is. Pantalone is a whole other story, but you have been to many parties of all sorts during your time. This was just another rich boy party with underhanded remarks and fancy cheeses.

One that dragged on far too long for anyone's liking.

At some point during the night, you just barely caught the richest boy himself telling someone who asked about you that you were just a friend. One that once upon a time knew his parents. How you're only back in town for a short visit, that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to bring you along.

And it kept like that til the point you were tempted to peel the bandages off the back of your heels after they had been slipping on you the past hour. Peeling from your skin like a piece of string on a fine shirt just begging to be pulled. The thought of them still plagued your mind as Pantalone bowed to the same man you were first introduced to that night again, an individual who took no shame in the jewels hanging from his tailcoat and the golden ring with some odd emblem on his pinky. Wishes of a splendid night on both their tongues as the two of you departed.

It was only when you were both back in that carriage, you suddenly have a lot more appreciation for as it gave you a chance to rest your aching feet, did any words pass between you two again.

Pantalone, a man who was short and concise with you, but had plenty to say to those folks in the hall as they stuffed their faces with meat as they all sat around tables covered in cloth the same thickness as the blankets you use every night. Who made it clear before you even stepped past the threshold of the mansion (though it looked more like a cheap attempt at copying the opera house's architectural style) that you would speak only when spoken to. Interrupting the few remarks you did say when it was just the two of you during those sliver of moments someone wasn't coming up to sing his praises.

It's not like you weren't used to being treated like arm candy. Maybe that's why you truly couldn't care less as he sat in the seat across from you without daring to break the silence, to say anything, until you did.

“I was right about you. You are a rather smarmy individual.”

His hand that had been messing with the fabric of the curtain blocking you both away from any prying eyes trying to peek inside the windows came to a stop with a soft sigh from his lips. Pantalone's hands still pulling it taught, the same way you did on a wrinkled shirt to see what it would look like perfectly pressed and ironed when he spoke.

“How does an escort like you even know that word?”

“How does a Harbinger like you end up with no options for a date besides one you have to hire?”

The second the question left you Pantalone's head tilted towards you in such a slow, deliberate manner you knew you should have kept your mouth shut. Unfortunately, knowing when to do that isn't a trait that comes as easily to you as it does others.

“What's your name again?”

You told him, shared it without second thought before you could take a moment to step back and recall he had been the one introducing you to everyone all night. He had known your name but asked anyway.

Well, you'll have to remember that trick for later use.

“It is an honor to properly be introduced to you, Lord Harbinger.”

With a smile, you held your hand out to him, repeating the same action as before. Two can play at this game, you thought as you waited for him to comply, to play along, and take it. And like a fool, even if it was just in good humor, he did.

If he was going to wipe his hand off again this time, you'll give him a damn good reason.

Your grip turned tight, unyielding, to ensure Pantalone couldn't simply pull away. Making sure, just as he might with each mora coin, he pinches between those fingers, that there's no possible chance to let it slip away as your lips pressed to one one of his silver rings.

It was cold against your skin, but no more biting than the words you were expecting as you silently dared him to say something.

Between the rocking of the carriage and the low light of the lantern between you two you couldn't help but notice that was the first time you've seen his eyes all night.

#Pantalone x reader #pantalone #genshin x reader #x reader #hoyoverse #genshin impact #fem reader #genshin impact x reader #regrator x reader #banner by cafekitsune

81 notes · View notes