Intrigue (Paris X Reader The Dummy's dummy Au)

Of Dancing To Death

Something strange was occurring to the headscape of Yumi Wright, as her usual REM turned into something of a full-on night terror.

Unfiltered screaming could be heard.

Fortunately, Y/n L/n heard the entire thing. (It might've been unfortunate for her, as she lost a large portion of sleep from it.

Prowling throughout the house, too careful not to turn on the lights, our doppelganger leaps from lawn to lawn, shimmies-with great difficulty-up a tree, and quite gracefully, I might add-falls through Yumi's bedroom window, no more than a shivering pile of anxiety on the floor.

"What's going on?" Y/n clad in her warm jammies, now faces Yumi and Paris, who had previously been engaged in conversation. "DId something happen?"

"Excuse my impatience, Ms. L/n, But isn't it obvious?" Paris had his hand on Yumi's shoulder and was directing her towards the door.

They would've left if Y/n hadn't been glued to it, arms stretched miles apart. "Now hold on a minute!" What was the screaming about? Where are you off t-"

"Shh." Paris slowly and carefully drew his fingers to his lips, the action so hypnotic that she tried not to stare, a flush adourning her cheeks.

"I'll explain everything on the way." Yumi finally spoke, graciously snapping Y/N out of her trance and into reality.                                                                                                                                                      

"But we need to go. Now."

After telling Y/n about her dream, Yumi pressed onward, the pair hot on her tail.

"Look." Y/n was still recovering from earlier, but it didn't stop her from saying. "Don't...try anything okay?"

"Pardon?" Paris feinted shock.

 "Whatever could I do? I haven't got a predatory bone in-"

" You haven't got any bone in your body." chides Y/n. " And that's what scares me. Sure you'll follow your orders, but to what extent?"                                                                                                                       

Paris stopped mid-stride, and turned to glare at her. 

"What exactly are you insinuating, Y/n? Choose your next words carefully."                                          

Y/N's eyes widened in fear, and just as quickly narrowed in anger when she realized he was making a threat. 

Scratch that. 

It  was making a threat. 

"My point is, rules or not, it seems everything your creator makes, no matter what his original intentions were, all end up evil." She recalled the clown doll from her dream and winced. "I just want to make sure your inner demons don't surface against my frie-client."