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#and soon you'll spill your guts
clownaddict · 1 year
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Me, watching factory workers get turned into paste by various forms for lathes, presses and other spinning machinery: Hehe there is something deeply wrong with me
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yandere-kittee · 1 year
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Yandere! Experiment x Scientist!Reader.
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Note: I haven't posted in a long time, so have this as compensation. (I haven't finished writing my smut yet(ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू) )
❦Contains: Yandere behavior, platonic yandere, murder, manipulation, Gn! Reader, You are just called 'Mom'.
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You were horrified by the scene in front of you, even more when the reason for this scene was reaching out to you with such an Innocent smile.
"What's wrong Mom? Shouldn't you be happy that they won't seperate us anymore? " It asked you, staring up at you with blood splattered all over their face, their bloodied hands holding onto your white coat.
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you raised a shaky hand, patting it's head, "Th-That's right, you did such a good job sweetie. " you said with a shaky voice, it was hard not to when you've just been scared out of your wits mind.
It's smile widens and buries it's head against your stomach, most definitely smearing blood onto your clothes, your glad for it because you didn't want them to see tears spill and run down your cheeks.
While they hug you, you had to watch with horrified eyes as you saw all of your colleagues dead mutilated bodies on the floor, blood and guts splattered everywhere, their deaths we're cruel and inhumane as the cause for their deaths hugs you.
This monster.
You honestly should've seen it coming, being nice to one of the experiments that the facility your working for kept, maybe because they resembled that of a child, so you wanted to be more nice to it.
So you treated it like any child you've encountered, you we're gentle and patient unlike the others, you treated it as if it was human, you played with it.
And sometimes you'll sneak it snacks that children around your place often liked.
At first, it was wary of you, because naturally, they haven't had the best treatment from scientists in this facility, they weren't very nice with the experiments, it only seemed natural to treat them as such because they were monsters, made to be weapons of mass destruction.
But within months of treating them like you would a child, they had warmed up to you, seeing you as a Parental Figure, to which the others seemed to notice because they we're more cooperative when you're with them.
And soon enough, they we're now under your care, you became a research scientist with a part time job as a babysitter.
They soon became clingy and didn't want you to leave them, "Don't leave me! " They exclaim while clinging onto your arm in desperation, "I won't be for long, I will just be taking a break and I'll come back. " You said.
"Why not just take it here? You said you wouldn't leave me. " They said, rubbing their face against your arm, Right, you did say that.
"Well, I can't exactly be able to. My lunch box is inside the cafeteria. " You said.
You often give them things you find outside the facility, to give them something that may remind them of the world outside, pretty rocks, flowers, and etc.
Their room became a safe space for the two of you.
Until it wasn't.
"Mom! " They beam, standing up from their position on the floor once you arrive with fresh warm food in your hands, they walk up to you and sniff the food, "What's this one called? " they ask curiously.
"It's carbonara. I found a recipe for it and thought you would like it. " You settle the dish on the table and go to grab plates and utensils, "I always like the things you make me. " They smiles, sitting down on the chair.
"That's great to hear. " You say, opening the drawer of utensils, your eyes landing on the sharp knife hidden away.
...
♛┈⛧┈┈•༶
I hope you guys enjoyed this! I quite enjoyed writing this one, anyways, sorry for the late post!
[Requests are open]
👏( 'ω' )👏( 'ω' )
༶•┈┈⛧┈♛
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sidekick-hero · 3 months
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(steddie | 2.4k | teen | tags: future fic, steddie in their 40s, second chances, mutual pining, happy ending | @steddielovemonth Love is the hope for a future together by@acasualcrossfade | AO3)
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"I don't know, Robbie. I mean, it's been years! Even if there ever was a 'spark' between us, it's probably long gone."
He doesn't look over at Robin as he says this, pretending to be engrossed in grading papers. They both know that he hasn't made a single mark on the paper in front of him since Robin burst into his house with her spare key and announced, "Eddie's coming to the wedding."
"Inside voice," he had chided her, even though April was at her friend's house doing a school project. Old habits die hard.
Plopping down next to him at the kitchen table, Robin had happily ignored him as she continued, "Lucas just called me, it's going to be a surprise for Dustin. Eddie's finishing the tour two days early, so he's coming straight from the airport. But he will be there, Steve!"
Trying his best not to show how his heart had started beating faster as soon as Robin had mentioned Eddie's name, Steve had shrugged nonchalantly. "That's nice, Robbie. Dustin will be over the moon."
"That's nice, Robbie." She repeated in a surprisingly good imitation of his tone. They definitely spent too much time together. "You can act indifferent all you want, Steve. I was there when you refused to leave the house for a whole week when Eddie went to LA, remember? I held your hair when you puked your guts out after drowning your sorrows when Eddie brought what's-his-face to Max and Lucas' wedding. You two belong together, Steve! You just had bad timing. You've never both been single at the same time - until now. That must mean something. Maybe he's not just coming for Dustin, that's all I'm saying."
Which had actually led them to discuss whether Steve should put them all out of their misery by finally growing a pair (Robin's words) or decide that whatever had been between them that summer, when Eddie had recovered from almost being eaten alive by demobats, was long gone (Steve's words).
"I beg to differ, Dingus. I saw the way he looked at you at our little 'Fuck Off Upside Down' anniversary party. He spilled his beer when you walked in the room, Steve. No one else did."
"He's clumsy. You know that. I'm surprised he never fell off the stage," Steve jokes. He's not sure who he's trying to convince, Robin or himself.
Robin's expression changes to something more serious as she puts her hand on top of his, still holding his red grading pen in a white-knuckled grip. "Steve, listen. I'm not saying you have to do anything. You and Eddie have been friends for almost twenty years. We've all been. You're not going to lose him no matter what you decide. But," and here she takes a deep breath, "I just want you to be happy, Steve. You deserve to be happy. And I know that you're not unhappy, I know that. You've got April and you've got me and you've got the kids, even though they're scattered all over the country. But I also know that you've never stopped imagining a future with him, have you?"
"He kissed me," Steve blurts out, and to Robin's credit, she doesn't react except for her hand on his to twitch in surprise. She makes a questioning sound in her throat, clearly waiting for more.
"The night before he left. We had this big going-away bash, remember?" She nods. "We all got pretty drunk after the kids left and you and Vicky had gone to sleep in the guest room and I had offered to sleep on the couch so Eddie could have my bed. His back was still bothering him and he had a long drive ahead of him the next day. But he insisted on sharing and I was too drunk and tired to argue. The next morning he got up very early, probably thinking I was still asleep when he got dressed and left. Only he didn't leave. At least not right away. He came over to the bed and kissed me. On the mouth. And he said, 'You'll always be my almost, Stevie.'"
Robin looks at him with wide eyes, and Steve thinks that maybe he should have told her sooner, that maybe he violated some code between them because they tell each other everything. But something about this morning had felt, well, almost sacred in a way. As if putting it into words would make it less so.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, Robbie. I just..."
"You had to keep it to yourself so it would always be the one dream you could turn to?" Robin suggests in a soft voice, and Steve wouldn't have said it like that, but she's right. Every date that didn't feel right, every relationship that went down the drain, hell, even when his marriage imploded on him, he thought of that one kiss and dreamed of a life where Eddie would have stayed. Or where Steve had followed him.
"Oh Dingus." Suddenly, Robin's arms wrapped around him in a hug, and it wasn't until he saw the wetness on her shirt that he realized he was crying. "I can't promise you it'll work, but I really think you should talk to him. Your life doesn't end at 40, Steve. You can still have the future you've always dreamed of."
Steve nods against her shoulder, tightening his grip on the best thing that has ever happened to him besides April.
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Dustin and El's wedding is a small affair, just family and close friends, which is basically the same in their group.
Steve tries his best not to show his inner turmoil and mostly succeeds. There are handshakes that turn into tight hugs, hellos that turn into stories about kids and grandkids, neighbors, vacations, jobs, life. It's great to see everyone. It also helps distract him from the butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in his stomach for over a week now.
It works until everyone is about to take their seats and Eddie still hasn't shown up. He's supposed to be one of Dustin's groomsmen, along with Lucas and Mike and Will, while Steve is actually Dustin's best man. He only cried a little when Dustin asked him to.
Just as the officiant is ready to start without him, the heavy double doors open and Eddie walks in like Aragorn into Helm's Deep (Dustin insisted that Steve watch the movies if he didn't want to read the books, and Steve may have thought of Eddie more than once while watching Aragorn, sue him).
He rushes to his spot next to the other groomsmen, ruffles Dustin's hair as he passes him, and mumbles, "Sorry, shrimp, the airport lost my luggage." Then his eyes fall on Steve and he freezes for a moment before giving him a bright, dimpled smile. "Hey, Stevie," he whispers before stepping to the end of the line of groomsmen.
Steve is glad that Hopper is recording the whole ceremony, because he doesn't hear a thing that's being said.
Later, everyone gathers in the dining room and Hopper and Claudia each give a heartfelt speech before it's Steve's turn. He has everyone toast to Dustin and El's future, because while the past may have brought them together, it's the future that belongs to them and their love. He forces himself not to look at Eddie as he says this, knowing that his face would give away his thoughts.
And then Eddie stands up to say a few words as well, something no one expected him to do.
"I've known Dustin for 20 years now, and the only time I ever doubted that he was a genius was when he let El go without a fight. But you know what? I was wrong. Dustin and El may have taken the scenic route to get here," Eddie tells the guests, "but sometimes that's the best way to get somewhere. If you're willing to take the long and winding road, the road less traveled, as Frost would say, you know that whatever's at the other end is worth it."
Steve desperately wants to believe that Eddie is not just talking about Dustin and El, but he doesn't even look at Steve when he says that. He just sits down again next to Robin at the table right next to the one where Steve is sitting with Dustin and El and their parents, because Steve is part of the family, too, as Claudia had pointed out.
The rest of the evening is kind of a blur until everyone gets up to go to the ballroom where the dance floor has been set up. Dustin and El open with their first dance, "You and Me" by Lifehouse, and Steve has never been prouder of his little brother as he watches him lead El across the dance floor with the biggest, toothiest smile on his face.
"They've come a long way, huh?" says a voice next to him and Steve doesn't have to turn around to know it's Eddie.
"Yeah. I'm glad they made it." Steve agrees, his eyes never leaving the dancing couple. More and more people are joining them now, and Steve can feel the fond smile on his face grow.
Eddie's hand rests on his arm as he steps around Steve to face him. He extends his other hand to Steve, palm up, and asks, "May I have the pleasure of this dance with you?"
As if Steve could ever say no to Eddie.
Just as they step onto the dance floor, "You and Me" fades out and the next song begins. It's "Unchained Melody" and Steve suspects that Robin had a hand in it. It's the song Steve listened to a lot after Eddie left and she once complained that he ruined the song for her. Apparently not enough to put it on the playlist when he and Eddie hit the dance floor.
"I always kind of liked that song," Eddie tells him, and Steve snorts. "No, really! It's not really metal, but I don't know. I just feel it, you know? It's real." Eddie explains, veering close to rambling territory.
"Is that so?" Steve has to ask as he slowly sways, his hand in Eddie's and his arm wrapped around Eddie's waist.
Eddie hums quietly in agreement. "Back in '86, when I was trying to settle down in LA, I used to listen to it for hours." Eddie admits quietly and Steve's heart is suddenly in his throat. "I felt every single word and every single word made me think about what I was leaving behind."
"Eddie," Steve begins, only to be gently silenced by Eddie's finger against his lips.
"Please, Stevie, I have to say this now or I never will. So please, just listen, yeah?"
Steve crosses his eyes to look pointedly at Eddie's finger against his lips before looking back up at Eddie, who snorts at the gesture. "Brat," he teases, taking his finger away.
"Okay, I'm listening," Steve tells him, and mimics zipping his lips.
Eddie's eyes sparkle with amusement and affection, and something deeper. Something that makes the seeds of hope in Steve's chest tentatively open and reach for their sun.
"Stevie, sweetheart, you certainly know... I mean, you must know that I..." Eddie rambles and Steve has never seen him so lost for words. He doesn't say anything, but he brings their joined hands to his mouth and kisses Eddie's in silent reassurance.
Eddie's eyes find his and the expression in them is so unbearably soft that Steve almost has to look away. No one has ever looked at him like that before. "You were always the one who got away, Steve. My almost. Even when I was with other people, you were there. On every stage, in every hotel room, on every stretch of highway, you were there. And I almost told myself it just wasn't meant to be. I had you as a friend and that was a gift I never thought I would have, I shouldn't be greedy and ask for more."
He takes a deep breath, like he's steeling himself, gathering every ounce of that incredible courage Steve has seen time and time again, even as Eddie keeps insisting he's a coward. Steve knows better, and Eddie's next words prove him right once again.
"But the funny thing is, it never stopped me from hoping for a future with you."
They stop dancing, if you can call what they were doing dancing, and look at each other, eyes searching for answers. For reasons to hope.
Steve is the first to break the silence, a soft grin on his face. "May I speak now?"
That makes Eddie laugh softly and he nods.
"Is this what you want? A future with me? Because that means a future with a middle school teacher with a little pet tornado who's currently staying with her mom. You have to mean it for her as much as you mean it for me. This means being all in, Eddie."
Steve hates that he has to say this, that he can't just fall into Eddie's arms and kiss him senseless. But Eddie needs to know what a future with Steve means. If he wasn't sure he wanted that kind of future, then they couldn't have one together. At least not the way they both wanted it.
Eddie cupped Steve's cheek in his hand, his smile growing with every blink of his chocolate eyes. "Steve, I know who you are. I know what it would mean to be with you, and I want it so much that I can barely stand another day without it. I love your little pet Tornado, she's adorable and funny and she has great taste in music. No idea where she got that from, though," Eddie teases before sobering up. "I want to be a family. This tour was our last for at least two years. The guys need a break and so do I. And after that, we don't know yet, but whatever it is, it will be something we agree on together. You and me and April."
Maybe Steve should ask more questions, be more cautious. But he's waited twenty years for this, and he can't wait another second to finally kiss the man he's always been in love with.
He's ready for his future to begin.
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vixensp1ce · 7 months
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fem!reader, under the cut
you've never seen dan heng this intense before - his eyes glowing with hunger in the dim, his mouth greedy for his next bite of your skin. his hands are everywhere, tearing at your clothing, holding you close, tipping your head back so he can decorate it with his marks.
you knew animals had rut seasons, but never did you imagine dragons did, too. all words had fallen away to grunts and groans, quiet dan heng even more silent now as he worked on you.
with your head tipped back, clinging onto his shoulders, the room fills with the sound of your pleasure.
"oh, heng, right there, yes-" he scissors his fingers, knuckles curling as you let him know where it feels best. his pants are so tight, he wants nothing but to pounce and make you cum on his dick over and over again, but he maintains enough sanity to prepare you for what he has planned.
he can feel your moans and pleas in his jaw as he bites and marks you up, your neck already littered with blooming kisses. but your breasts, oh, imagine having his offspring feed right here, heavy and swollen with life. the vision feels like heaven to him, and he sucks relentlessly on one nipple, his fingers pinching the other.
"he~ng," you moan, coming messily around his fingers. "heng, heng, oh, so... ah~"
"yeah," he mutters, the first words he's said since he locked the door and manhandled you into his lap. your clothes are on the floor, your bra hanging around your waist because he couldn't be bothered to take it off. "my turn."
freeing his aching member, you can't help but bite back a whimper. he's too big, even bigger than usual, a pulsing vein running from base to tip you know you'll feel in your guts.
"it's okay." his eyes soften as he notices your nervousness. "i'll be gentle."
he helps you undress carefully, doing the same for himself, but as soon as he replaces you on his lap, he can feel his control slipping away again. you're so adorable, gaze flickering over him as if you don't know where to look.
"gentle," he mutters, half to himself, lowering you by your hips onto him. you jerk forward, wrapping your arms tighter around his neck to anchor yourself as his head pushes past your entrance.
"don't think i- ah, heng, so big-" you stammer, dropping your head onto his shoulder to look. there's still so much of him left, glistening with your arousal dripping down onto him. you raise yourself, trying to pull out, and cry out involuntarily as he hardens even further and catches onto your walls.
"sorry," he murmurs, humanity already slipping away. "dragon."
dan heng slides you down, inch by inch, and you're already whimpering and shaking, close to release. the vein throbs against something raw deep inside you, and it takes everything in his being not to ravage you right there and then, ribbed walls fluttering so frantically, trying to accommodate him.
he brings his nose to your pulse, trying to distract himself. a mistake. your pulse jumps in time with your pussy, and he growls and thrusts up, hard.
you cry out, coming immediately, and he does too, supporting you against him as he loses himself in how warm and wet you are.
"dan heng, please, please," you wail in pleasure, nails scoring marks down his shoulders as he hoists you up, still bouncing you on his dick, the tip nudging open your cervix, spilling his cum inside.
as he takes you to bed, all you can think of is, this is going to be a long night.
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yanderes-galore · 1 month
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could I request platonic yandere stu macher headcanons with a younger sibling? -🎂
I can do some small HCs, sure!
Yandere! Platonic! Stu Macher with Little Sibling! Darling
Pairing: Platonic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Sadism, Manipulation, Violence, Blood, Murder mentioned, Stalking, Jealousy, Forced companionship.
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This is actually a scary idea.
Think about it, you always saw Stu as your playful and joking brother.
You never expected him or his friend, Billy, to be sadistic killers.
To think your brother committed such crimes behind your back is a disturbing thoughts...
Which is why Stu doesn't plan on letting you know the truth.
I imagine Stu would have some overly obsessive and protective qualities towards his sibling.
To the point he may even get overly jealous with you around other people besides him.
Maybe someone gets on your nerves at school or work?
Stu somehow manages to know about it, even if you didn't tell him.
Next thing you know, they're dead in quite the gruesome way.
That or maybe you have your first boyfriend/girlfriend?
Stu shows distaste towards them, soon even doing away with them when he's had enough.
He takes his time to taunt them about you, claiming how no one can take his sibling away from him.
It's nothing romantic, don't read it wrong, Stu just feels you two have an unbreakable bond together.
He's overly obsessive about you as your older brother.
He definitely comforts you when people close to you start dying.
You hug him, rambling about how you're afraid you'll lose him too.
Stu responds by hugging back... whispering that he won't let that happen...
All with a grin on his face that you can't see.
He's possessive of his little sibling.
A lot of the blood he spills is for you.
Stu never plans on telling you that he and Billy are the Ghostface killers.
He does it in secret, all as a way to keep you to himself.
The only way you'd know is if you caught him.
Perhaps you walk in on something you aren't supposed to... Stu hunched over someone who "wronged" you in some way with a bloody knife in their gut.
He's covered in blood... crazed eyes flicking to you and your horrified expression from behind his mask.
He grins under the mask as you run off and he gives chase.
He won't hurt you... he's your beloved brother, isn't he?
So when he corners you, his touch is gentle.
Blood smears on your skin and fear eats at you as you stare at the killer in front of you.
Your heart nearly stops when he removed the mask... revealing your brother.
His smile never leaves his face as he pulls you in for a hug.
He claims he's been doing this all for you.
He also warns that good siblings will stay quiet about what they saw.
As blood seeps into your clothes... you nod aggressively.
You'll stay quiet about this... all for your brother...
This makes Stu smile softly.
Everything he does is to keep you safe and happy beside him, after all.
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drtyfiction · 3 months
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IMAGINE [2/2]
Oliver Quick x Y/N (she/her) Saltburn spoiler alert!!
[Part 01]
- You know, Oliver, I thought you were cleverer than that. Y/N invited me because she wanted to. They want me back, after all. She wants me back in Saltburn.
- And why would she want that?
Oliver's gaze shifts from frustration to a hint of anger. Restrained, inexpressive, repressed, but still anger. His rage can't really be perceived by his facial expressions, but it subtly leaks from deep within his eyes all the way to where Farleigh's sight can reach. Oliver stares at him with a slightly frightening fervor.
Despite still not knowing it, Farleigh should, indeed, be afraid.
- I don't know, I think she misses me. No, actually, I'm sure she misses me terribly. I will eventually call her mine, you see, Oliver. She puts on a certain act and tells me she's not really interested, but later, when I leave, she calls me back, as if nothing had ever happened. I'm sure she desires me as much as I've been craving her. They want me. Oh no, even better. They need me, Oliver. She has always needed me. - Farleigh gradually approached Oliver, facing him closely, until each could smell the alcohol coming off the other's breath. Farleigh also sensed that Oliver was wearing an expensive brand of perfume, probably one that belonged to Felix. - I'm part of this house, I always have been, just like her. You're here on vacation, just for a short visit. I'm permanent in Y/N's life and I'm a resident of Saltburn. This is just a short fling you're enjoying, but it will soon end. You'll dwell on it for the rest of your life, and you'll hold on to this moment for years to come. You'll tell your children about what you lived here. But you'll never, ever have any of it back, including her. I am the one who will always go back into her arms.
On that very moment, Oliver feels a bitter taste settle on his lips, surging like an exhilarating reflux from his stomach. He wishes he could have a drink to mask the stinging taste that instantly assaults his senses. However, he can't, as his cup remains empty. He looks again at the plastic bottom, then at Farleigh, and he can no longer hide the disgust that emerges on his face. He is no longer feeling anger towards him and all his self-centeredness, but rather disgust. A disgust that crawls up his gut and which he can no longer suppress. His face twitches and his upper lip rises, and Farleigh appears surprised to see, albeit briefly, a trace of real feeling spilling out of Oliver.
How dare Farleigh assume that you want him? Or even worse, how dare he think that you need him? Oliver knows that nothing Farleigh has just said is true, but he can't stop himself from being disgusted by all that he's heard. You've always been, in every way, above all the drama. Oliver is absolutely convinced that you wouldn't have invited Farleigh to the party and he was even more certain that you had never slept with him. He has spent so much time studying your personality and behavior that he knows with great confidence that you are an emotionally independent and collected person who would not submit to Farleigh's whims, no matter how persuasive he tries to be.
Now they're so close to each other that their faces are nearly touching. Oliver tries to turn around to peer at the house, but Farleigh grabs his face with both hands, forcing him to look deep into his brown eyes.
- Catch a train to someplace far away from here. This is not my dream, Oliver. It's my home. So no matter what happens, I always come back.
Farleigh releases him, and Oliver realizes that this was the last straw. He needs to take definitive action. As Farleigh walks away, Oliver mutters between his teeth:
- We’ll see.
There is nothing, or no one, that stands in the way between Oliver and his subject of desire. Everybody should know that. What he hid from everyone is that Oliver's greatest desire is you. He was advancing gradually, building up space and gaining on the territory so that, in the end, he would have you. However, because of what Farleigh has just said, Oliver realizes that he will need to revise his entire plan and take more intense, aggressive action. If he doesn't intervene, things will soon get out of hand, and he cannot possibly imagine losing you to anyone, especially when that someone is Farleigh.
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wuahae · 2 years
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✶ seventeen when you take your promise ring off during a fight
ft. hip hop unit
performance unit | vocal unit
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seungcheol: his words spill over. seungcheol likes to pride himself on being rational, on having a firm hold on his temper even when everything around him is molten and up in flames. but one thing leads to another, words he doesn't mean slip out, a beat of silence passes, and then your finger is bare. (eyes wide, his heart take over his tongue in a panicked flurry. "fine, if you want to break up then let's break up.") he regrets it as soon as he says it, mouth gaping as his eyes go misty, but you interrupt before he can even get a chance to retract his words. ("do you want to break up?" you ask softly, the metal band rolling gently between your fingers. it doesn't take him even a second to refute. "no, I—" "ok." you walk over to him, drop the ring and gently close it into his palm. "ok.") you tell him you just need a little time to calm down, that you'll be back, but all seungcheol sees is the burnt ashes and barren soil of what was once a forest, former anger melting away into shame. he hasn't even apologized properly, how can you say you'll be back when you've left the ring behind and you've walked away from him and—his breath hitches. the warmth of the metal melds into his skin. (you'd left it so that you could come back for it, so that you would come back to him. and that despite the flames that once engulfed the land around him, there was a seed planted that could sprout once again.)
wonwoo: he tells you he loves you. the argument itself is a quiet affair, heated words masked in clipped tones and drifting glances. the second the ring leaves your finger, the air between the two of you chills, wonwoo looking at the abandoned ring, then to you, then back to the ring. there's a storm swirling within his eyes, tongue bitten in fear of saying something he would regret, so wonwoo says the only thing he knows for certain. ("i love you," and it sounds so simple when he says it you almost want to cry. love. like that was all that mattered.) it's gentle, the 'after.' wonwoo doesn't say much else, just that it's late, that you should rest, that you both can talk about this together tomorrow. you almost want to fight back with how easily wonwoo takes this, especially when you're still fighting the twist in your gut and the lightning ready to strike, but the thought dies on your lips before you can start. (wonwoo pulls you close before he leaves the room, tender fingertips holding your hand with a brief kiss to the top of your head. his thumb rubs the back of your hand before he lets go. "i love you," he says again. "good night.") the sun peeks through the clouds the next morning, soft words and apologies exchanged scent-drenched in petrichor, your ring safely placed back to where it always belonged.
mingyu: his mind goes blank. mingyu finds the ring on his desk the day after, tepid apologies still lingering in his mind from the night before. he thinks he's dreaming at first, blinking twice at it before reaching to touch his own finger. skin meets metal. it's not his. (you had left last night before you'd truly stopped being mad, mingyu could tell. clenched jaw, knitted brows, the fact that you didn't sleep over, and most importantly, the way you didn't say 'i love you' before you shut the door.) mingyu had thought you just needed time to cool down before coming back the next morning to soothe things over, but now it's a little past twelve and mingyu still has extra apology pancakes sitting on the counter and your ring is lying on the desk which means—(you're not coming back.) he feels the tears starting to well up in his eyes, a choked gasp sounding from his throat in a mangled sputter. you're gone and it's all his fault. (you find him half an hour later still standing at the desk, red-eyed and distraught. you call his name softly as you approach, his head snapping to your voice. "i forgot my ring here..." he sniffles. "...did you see it?") you let him cry into your chest afterwards, apologies soothing as you run your fingers through his hair, the ring slipped back on. it had just felt too empty without it.
vernon: he tries to conceal his shock. it's unexpected, when it happens. it's certainly not something that's happened before, but then again, you've never really had a fight like this before. to vernon it's explosive, it's sudden, but to you, this was inevitable. the ring pulled off your finger is the culmination of the little things you've been forced to tamp down and push aside because you wanted to be fine with it—because he was fine with it, because you felt like you needed to be fine with it. and amidst your distress, vernon isn't sure what he's supposed to do. (vernon doesn't know a lot of things—how to read the emotions hidden between your words, how to comfort your tears, how to keep you where you can still be in his arms. he supposes the only reason he's lasted this long while knowing nothing is because he's had you with him this entire time, but even that seems on the verge of collapsing.) vernon almost wants to feed into the panic, to ask if you mean it, to ask if this is the end, but the harsh sting of the action leaves him with a wound he puts off to nursing another time, one where he's not watching you stand at the edge of a cliff with the ground crumbling beneath your feet. so he extends to you the end of an olive branch instead, tells you he'll sleep on the couch for as long as you need and that when you're ready, he'll be there to listen to what you truthfully want to say. (you grab onto your end of the olive branch the day after the next, timid steps away from the edge. vernon welcomes you back with an open heart and a tight embrace.)
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thefiery-phoenix · 7 months
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YANDERE HARRY POTTER HEADCANONS
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Most definitely a stalker. He'll even use his invisibility cloak to stalk you from time to time, so if you ever wondered what the gentle breeze was around you even when you weren't near any windows and didn't see any ghosts? Well, that's Harry for you. But he won't be doing it so frequently since well... with all the people in the wizarding world trying to capture him and kill him and all that
You'd either be in his class or you'd be on one of the Quidditch Teams, doesn't matter which house or he probably met you through mutual friends between you both like Hermione or Ron or Ginny or even Neville for that matter. Or maybe you might've been there for him when Ron was ignoring him during the Triwizard Tournament and telling him to do his best in a friendly way and not behaving like an over obsessive fan girl like Romilda Vane
Eventually, the 2 of you would meet (Or me might even use the Marauder's map to see what you're up to and then 'coincidentally' bump into you) and become friends and who'd pass the opportunity to become friends with THE Harry Potter?
Will fall for you even MORE if you're not like an obsessive fan or something and you believe him when no one else does. Like the Putting of names in the Goblet of fire in the 4th year and the Dementor attack on him during the summer. He admires you and loves for sticking up for him especially against Malfoy. But he kinda feels ashamed of himself since you're gonna be dealing with Malfoy's wrath as well and that's why he'll do his best to make you avoid Malfoy as much as possible
Best if you don't leave anything of yours behind since he's gonna use the summoning charm to get little souvenirs for himself be it some candy wrapper or ring or whatever it might be. He'll want it and love it if it's belonged to you
He will tell you EVERYTHING that went on in his life to you and besides, that's the first step towards a relationship right? No secrets... oh wait... you guys aren't dating yet. Oops... but he doesn't mind it at all, you'll be dating him soon enough anyways. He'll even tell you about all the adventures Ron, he and Hermione had and his friends might think it's weird and strange. The secretive Harry potter spilling his guts to someone he barely even knows? Yep, definitely not strange. He won't even bother denying that he knows Parseltongue
He is one HELLA PARANOID person and you can't exactly blame him here since he's already lost most of his loved ones. So, if he doesn't see you for a while he'll be getting anxious and he'll snap at any and everyone till he gets the news that you're safe and everything's fine with you. What if you were kidnapped? What if some scumbag Death Eater captured you in your sleep? What if Voldemort was trying to kill you? You could be in severe danger! So, this boi here tends to cause scenes after he sees you be it in the Great Hall during breakfast or at class or even the damn Quidditch Pitch. And if Malfoy sees it, even BETTER since he knows Malfoy has a tiny crush on you and although more better to rub it in his face while he looks at him with a smug AF expression on his face
He'll be a blushing nervous mess if you come to his Quidditch matches but he'll be determined to win and catch the Snitch as fast as possible since he really wants to impress you. And maybe do some really cool tricks with his broom along the way if he can
You'll catch Harry following you in his invisibility cloak one day and after you catch him, you'll confront him about it and he'll tell you that you need protection and he's just making sure you're safe and he loves you and needs you. So, you'll start running but it's gonna be in vain since he'll capture and detain you somewhere. Not in the school since it might be risky but somewhere in the Forbidden Forest most probably
He'll send the most nastiest and scariest glares ever to people who ask him about your disappearance and tell them to drop it. His friends won't have solid and concrete proof that he did something to you and they don't want to accuse him of something they aren't sure of. So, he'll be off the hook
Back to him keeping you locked up in some god forsaken place. If you're being adamant and refusing to love him you better pray he isn't considering wiping your memory and casting a Oblivion charm on you to make you forget things because that's EXACTLY what he's thinking about right now. He might ask Hermione about it and as usual, she'll give him the perfect and most detailed answer and if that doesn't work.... well, the Unforgivable curses are always there
No doubt by now he must have become one heck of a twisted whackadoodle and he needs to protect you and it's for your own good and if he has to hurt you to make you think you'll be safe with him then so be it. He might use the Cruciatus Curse on you for like 10 seconds and every time you scream he feels like crying and holding you and begging for your forgiveness but he HAS to make sure you behave well for him. He'll to the begging and crying part later. And of course, the killing curse is always there for people who get in his way and try taking you away from him
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squirmifyoulike · 2 months
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Imagining a scenario with a pred that has a tongue that shoots out to catch their prey, like a chameleon tongue.
As you run for your life, heart pounding in your head, you hear the deep chuckles of the pred behind you. Their heavy footsteps thunder behind you, gaining, then slowing, then darting around somewhere nearby. They're toying with you - it's obvious.
But maybe, just maybe, if you keep going, you can win this game-
Something wet and sticky abruptly hits your back, directly between your shoulder blades, and jerks you back, stopping you from running. A shocked gasp escapes you as you're abruptly pulled back, and you turn around in confusion... But what you see is a horrid sight. The pred's thick tongue sits glued to your back, and at the other end of it, you see their horrible grin.
With a panic, you try to pull away... But it's impossible as the pred's tongue drags you back with ease. Uselessly, you scramble for purchase, something to grab onto... But there's nothing around to save you. Finally, with arms outstretched, the pred grabs your shoulders, and their tongue detaches from your back.
Immediately, you begin to tremble in fear. As you look up at them, you're greeted by the sight of their toothy grin. But perhaps, more frighteningly, you're being held firm against their cushy gut, fattened up by the countless victims of the pred's hunger. And you? You're about to be the latest victim, yet.
Even now, when the pred has already successfully caught you, they're toying with you, licking their lips, subtly pressing you further into their already round belly. You can hear loud gurgles and growls from deep within. It's like their stomach is crying out, begging, to be filled.
"Listen close, hun," The pred rumbles on. Their voice is deep and thick with desire... But that only makes you shiver more, because the very thing they desire terrifies you to your core. It won't be pleasant... Not for you, anyways.
"Hear all that? It's all for cute little morsels like you... We're going to spend a long time together, you and I."
Tears well up in your eyes, and you shut them tightly. Vigorously, you shake your head no. You don't want this. You want to escape. Live. But at this point, you're fair beyond the point of saving. As the pred lifts you up and opens their mouth up, all you can do is squirm and writhe in their grip. When you open your eyes, you can see down their mouth and into their throat - the muscles are constantly undulating and moving, which scares you.
Your feet are first to go. As soon as you're low enough to touch the beast's mouth and throat, your feet are disappearing past their throat. Throat muscles squeeze tightly and seemingly clamp down on you, and then, in a harsh, painful squeeze of muscle, your body is being sucked down quickly. The pred begins purring in content while you try to fight back against their throat, their body... You reach for freedom, a last ditch effort for something, ANYTHING, to notice your predicament, but soon enough, the rest of you has been sucked in by the pred.
The pred lifts their head up, smirking. You form a sizable bulge in their throat, and they bring a finger up, tracing it as it descends. Soon enough, the bulge in their throat is disappearing, and instead, is spilling out into their gut. Their already fat gut swells even more with your form inside it, and, almost immediately, stomach walls begin to churn and grind against you, smearing sticky fluid against you.
"I should mention," The pred says suddenly. "I have a rather... Slow metabolism. You and I will be spending a long time together... Say, a couple of weeks."
That information is the last thing you wanted to hear. Now that you're actually inside their gut, you aren't even spared the dignity of having this be over with quickly - instead, you'll be forced to endure the humiliation of a slow digestion for days, maybe even weeks on end... And that fact isn't helped by the fact that your pred is seemingly insufferable. You can feel their hands running over their stomach, pushing down and prodding at you.
Filled with a mixture of anger, humiliation, fear, and even dread, you fight back. You push out, punch, kick, and scream. Of course, doing so is hard. There are heavy layers of fat and muscle weighing down on you, and it's not helped by the fact that the stomach walls are constantly rolling and undulating around you. The pred merely chuckles when they see strained bulges shifting and moving along their gut. They've done this all before... And you won't be escaping. It's cute... But it won't save you from your fate.
"My advice is that you enjoy yourself," The pred rumbles. Of course, there's no possibility of you enjoying this. Digestion is painful, and it's slow... But the pred sort of likes torturing their prey like this. Soon enough, low gurgles and groans begin to sound, which gives you pause... And then, a cold sense of dread settles in.
It's starting... And you have no hope of escaping or stopping it.
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kleewie · 1 year
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i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed
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summary: drunk nights like these always end with your mind in a drowsy numbness. but why does your heart pound like a drum in your chest—fast and hot in anticipation of something more than just friends? (in other words, a modern au about drunk nights, hand holding, and unsaid feelings).
→ pairings: childe, zhongli, & alhaitham
→ warnings: fluff, light cursing, not proofread, mentions of drinking and alcohol, gender neutral reader
→ author’s note: i had a dream about my old crushes. as much as i want to say “yikes!! stop that cringe,” i got to admit it made my heart go doki-doki! plus binge listening to taylor’s reputation + midnights albums made the idea pop into my head. slight present tense issues are present (probably) ‘cause it hasn’t been proof read ;-; anyhow, i hope you enjoy it!
credits to @a-cure-for-writers-block on tumblr for the prompts!
beware, slight lengthy post ahead!
feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful! i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing (*´∀`*)
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childe: the sponsor-and-instigator
seemingly, the reason why you’re almost half-dead on the floor.
childe decides it’s a great idea to sponsor a fifth round of drinks when (a majority of) the group threaten to leave.
you and the bunch don’t though,
the shiny allure of brand new drinks put up a convincing fight.
so when you’re cursing his name, slamming imaginary daggers at his back,
the actual demon stands over your tired body, as if summoned. obviously delighted by your drunken state, he sends you a cheeky grin.
you, annoyed at his antics, return his smile with one of your own.
one screaming dare me, i'll leave you to vomit your guts out.
honestly, you never know what he's thinking.
your relationship with the ginger is, in short, awkward. both of you are in the same friend group.
yet, you seem to be closer to actual strangers than with him.
a chance to bond never presented itself. hence, you're stuck in a state of wariness and longing— slightly afraid to offend the man you're trying to be friends with.
so when the opportunity arises (a night out to drink for fun's sake), you immediately agree.
now, you're stuck in this predicament.
a hand behind his back, his arm around your shoulder, your whole body carrying the weight of his, stumbling around.
figures. the reason why he'd approach your tipsy condition is that you're the only one willing to carry (drag his ass) to the sofa.
bad call.
previously, you lounged half-dead on the second floor. which means, you'll have to haul him safely down the stairs.
him climbing the stairs, instead of crawling himself into the couch, baffles you. i mean, the last time you see him is downstairs.
anyway, certain someone (a drunk kaeya, “oops!”) forgets to wipe the pool of water he spilled on the lower steps.
causing you to slip first. as you're the one pulling his body, he soon follows.
the first thing you hear is a loud smack.
and the first thing you think is: you killed him.
“oh god!” you blurt.
you're almost disappointed to hear his sudden laughter. almost.
“i fell for you,” he mumbles.
crouching over him, you furrow your brows. “don't tell me…” you hesitate. “…do you have a concussion?”
childe promptly sits up, gripping your wrist. his sober blue eyes meet yours in a silent plea, as if begging you to grasp the message he's trying to convey.
to realize he's not fooling around.
to understand he’s serious.
maybe that's why it’s so difficult, so embarrassing, so upsetting for you to begin a friendship with the man.
you never want to be friends.
you desire something else, something different, something more.
his fingers, gripping your wrist, slide up in a gentle caress, “why would i try so hard to make you stay?” you feel his thumb brush your shoulder. “why would i try so hard to catch your eye?” his hand skims your cheek. “all the jokes, the teasing, the lingering gazes— all of it.”
childe slides his hand, softly resting his thumb on your lips.
and you swallow a lump in your throat.
“don't look at me like that and then feign innocence,” he whispers. “you keep saying we're friends, but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”
more under the cut!
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zhongli: the low-tolerance drunk
at any given occasion (involving drinking), there are ten kinds of drunks.
apparently, zhongli’s the type to look like he can hold his liquor.
but looks can be deceiving, as he’s the first one to drop his glass and sprint to the bathroom.
why he’d rush off after one more cup? who knows.
you feel guilty though. i mean, you’re the one pestering him to chug a glass down.
your pouty lips, twinkling eyes, and soft convincing voice entice him to drink against his one-bottle agenda.
you're that persuasive.
but when he leaves, you feel the loneliness hit. ironic as you cause him to depart in the first place.
hu tao glances at your sullen form, slightly snickering.
it's obvious. extremely obvious how captivated you are by the dark haired man.
a small crush develops into something more intense. you could bask in all his greatness, yet, still be wanting more.
you sigh and wish he'd come back from his break sooner.
since it's mandatory to order additional drinks for sulking individuals. being the best companion (wingwoman) she is, hu tao drags you towards the bartender.
as she orders more glasses, a couple of intoxicated men approach you.
looking at how unsteady they are on their feet and how they stink like alcohol, you assume one had too many to drink.
“hey, cutie.” one slurs. “begging for some lovin'?”
you say, “no, thanks.” and step away. adding, “i'm with a friend.” when you see them follow you.
your eyes search for hu tao, but the amount of people piling around the bar obscure your vision of her.
the other man smirks, “playing hard to get?”
you roll your eyes.
stupid how these men don't take no as an answer. how they presume standing here is an invitation for something else.
before he's able to grab your wrist, a palm swats his hand away.
“excuse me,” zhongli drawls. “you're getting a little too comfortable.”
he wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, against your collar bone. igniting a red blush on your cheeks.
of course he's here to save you.
though, you still want to beat the douchebags up for continuing to hit on you after refusing them.
the man hisses in response, “ouch! shit hurt!”
scowling, zhongli shoots a hostile glare. “my apologies. foolish men daring to touch them puts me in a sour mood.” he gently pulls you, before adding. “be careful. try not to upset me.”
if you know what's good for you, he thinks.
and the irritated man whisks you off somewhere else. gone from the crowded room and away from the vulgar folks you go.
you sense his displeasure, as it radiates his whole body. but you're half-worried, half-giddy.
yes, he's mad. but he’s mad because of you.
“...you're upset.” you hint.
zhongli hums in agreement.
tugging his hand loosely in yours, you ask, “...so what's wrong?”
his thumb brushes your palm in soothing circles before pulling your hand to his lips for a soft kiss.
“darling,” he mumurs. “you don’t know half of the things you do to me.”
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alhaitham: the designated-chauffeur
amongst a group of drunkards, there always has to be one sober person who picks up everyone else’s shit.
and unwillingly, alhaitham becomes the appointed chauffeur.
a funny circumstance really.
because: one, he never came to the party in the first place; and two, he meets up with your plastered crowd by pure chance.
and he's certainly surprised to see you.
since you told him the night before that you weren't going, at all.
your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.
i mean, why wouldn't your heart beat like it's running seventy miles an hour? your long-time crush from college (you both take the same classes) suddenly appears out of nowhere to save the group from certain despair (passing out on the sidewalk).
and upon considering he now knows you lied, your heart beats even faster.
“alhaitham, i can explain!” you sputter. “i thought i wasn't going either but—”
tighnari decides it's a great idea to intrude on your speech by gagging his life out on the pavement.
but you totally understand.
cyno succeeded at creating the nastiest concoction of juices and alcohol you've ever tasted— you heave just thinking about it.
“—but first... i think we (you, cyno, and the almost-hurling man),” you continue “need a ride home.”
as he cares about your welfare, and is the most responsible person in the group, he agrees.
but before you can get into the back of his four-seater car, he pulls front-seat car door open. “after you,” he says.
you gulp.
he's mad, alright.
after he drops off the two other intoxicated people in the car, he drives towards your apartment.
your eyes glance at his figure, trying to perceive his mood.
is he still mad? did he feel left out?
is it because you lied?
you couldn't tell.
the deafening silence is killing you. so you put on a brave face and apologize.
“i'm sorry, okay?” you mumble. “i wasn't planning to go but tighnari—don't look at me like that— you, of all people, know he can't hold his liquor.”
“oh? that's it?” he prods, steering the wheel to the right of an intersection.
you huff. “yes, that's it.”
a pause.
“you're a terrible liar.”
you grumble in frustration.
yes, he can see right through your lies. the point is, you've never been a good deceiver. so you curse the alcohol for making your inability to lie more obvious than usual.
thus, you explain the reason why you came to the party: a secret surprise planning session for alhaitham's birthday.
not so surprising now, is it? you remark. his fault for persuading you to spill the beans.
now, you feel guilty. and because you’re guilty, you get grumpy.
and because you’re grumpy, your eyes tear up in frustration.
alhaitham hears your sniffling and sends quick side-glances at you. “are you crying?” he asks.
“no,” you lie.
you blame your weakened emotional state on your weak alcohol tolerance. if you would’ve known he’d show up, you’d be as sober as a judge.
god, you’re absolutely going to embarrassed in the morning.
yet, something pulls on the breaks in your mind.
alhaitham parks the car in front of your garage, and you see the colors of your apartment through glossy eyes.
“please don't lie,” he reaches for your face and places his thumbs below your eyes. sighing, he wipes the fallen tears from your cheeks. “forgive me. i'm not mad, and i didn't mean to ruin the surprise.”
you choke a sob in response.
but, you're too busy tearing up to see how tenderly he looks at you.
with eyes full of longing, eagerness, and want.
“i hate seeing you so upset,” alhaitham cooes. “take a deep breath, sweetheart. you'll be okay.”
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thank you so much for reading! ♡
feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful!
i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧
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clockworkbee · 3 months
Text
1989 tv as Jude x Cardan’s version
♪ Slut! ♪
Cardan Got lovestruck, went straight to my head,
Jude, Cardan thought, hating even the shape of her name. Jude. —how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories: the prince of elfhame is mildly inconvenienced
Jude Got lovesick, all over my bed / Love to think you'll never forget.
Back in bed, I push aside the curtain and let the sunlight spill in, brighter than any lamp. I take the folded-up paper from behind my pillow. Smoothing it out, I see Cardan’s furious, arrogant handwriting scrawled over the page, taking up all available space. In some places, he pressed the nib so angrily that the paper tore. Her brows knit together. Jude, it reads, each hateful rendering of my name like a punch to the gut. —the cruel prince, chapter 14
Cardan Lovelorn and nobody knows, Jude Love thorns all over this rose.
I flattered myself that at moments you had feelings for me other than contempt, but even were that true, they would be but watered wine beside the feast of your other, greater desires. —the queen of nothing exclusive editions: Cardan’s letters to Jude
You love him, too, I think. You’ve loved him since before you were a prisoner of the Undersea. You loved him when you agreed to marry him. Once this is over, I will find the bravery to tell him. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22
Jude But if I'm all dressed up, Cardan They might as well be looking at us.
This mortal was a girl, dressed in gloves and a long gown that appeared like the sky at night. She was of medium height, with hair the ted-brown of a willow tree. She had soft features and the solid grace of someone used living in her body. An acrobat, perhaps. Or a soldier. The tail faerie boy who held her in his arms had a mess of black hair. His cheeks were painted in silver, his eyes edged in black kohl, and he looked drunk, his crown askew. The girl was glaring at him, and Kaye wondered how they wound up dancing together. Then she noticed the way he was looking at her. But that made things even more puzzling. —a visit to the impossible lands, the cruel prince bonus story
Jude And if they call me a slut, You know it might be worth it for once
“Is this really what you wanted? Him?” —the wicked king, chapter 7
But we all know what you lost.” “Locke?” I laugh. “Good riddance.” Her brows knit together. “Surely it’s not the High King himself you were gazing at.” —the wicked king, chapter 8
I’m there to whisper my counsel in his ear, as any seneschal might. The difference is that he must listen to me. And if he whispers back a few horrific insults, well, at least he’s forced to whisper. —the wicked king, chapter 1
Cardan And if I'm gonna be drunk, Might as well be drunk in love.
“Yes, my sweet villain, my darling god. I will be as sober as a stone carving, just as soon as I can.” And with that, he kisses me on the mouth. I feel a cacophony of things at once. I am furious with him, furious and resigned that he is a failure as High King, corrupt and fanciful and as weak as Orlagh could have hoped. Then there is the public nature of the kiss, parading this before the Court is shocking, too. He’s never been willing to seem to want me in public. Perhaps he can take it back, but in this moment, it is known. But there is also a weakness in me, because I dreamed of him kissing me for all my time in the Undersea, and now with his mouth on mine, I want to sink my nails into his back. His tongue brushes my lower lip, the taste heady and familiar. Wraithberry. He’s not drunk; he’s been poisoned. —the wicked king, chapter 27
Jude Send the code, he's waiting there, The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air
I realize what’s happening a moment too late. A note told the Court of an assassination attempt, and the Bomb went looking for an assassin. She found someone hiding in the shadows with a weapon. Someone who had every reason to want to kill the king: me. // I feel a guard’s hand close on my arm. Then Cardan’s voice comes. “Do not touch her.” A terrible silence follows. I wait for him to pronounce judgment on me. Whatever he commands will be done. His power is absolute. I don’t even have the strength to fight back “Whatever can you mean?” Randalin says. “She’s—” “She is my wife,” Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile.” The shocked roar of the crowd rolls around me, but none of them are more shocked than I am. —the queen of nothing, chapter 16
Cardan The wrong place at the right time
I keep thinking of the steady way he looked at me when we were both naked, before he pulled on his shirt and fastened those elegant cuffs. We should have called truce, he’d said, brushing back his ink-black hair impatiently. We should have called truce long before this. But neither of us called it, not then, not after. Jude, he’d said, running a hand up my calf, are you afraid of me? I clear my throat, forcing the memories away. “I command you not to allow yourself to be alone from tonight’s sundown to tomorrow’s sunup.” He draws back, as though bitten. He no longer expects me to deliver orders in this high-handed way, as though I don’t trust him. The High King of Elfhame makes a shallow bow. “Your wish—no, strike that. Your command is my command,” he says. I cannot look at him as he goes out. I am a coward. —the wicked king, chapter 21
“I hate you. You sent me into exile. Everything you say to me, everything you promise, it’s all a trick. And I, stupid enough to believe you once.” The sheathed knife slides easily to my hand. “Of course it was a trick—” he begins, then sees the weapon and bites off whatever he was about to say. —the queen of nothing, chapter 7
“It’s you I love,” he says. “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.” He walks to the door to the royal chambers, as though to end the conversation. “You probably guessed as much,” he says. “But just in case you didn’t.” He opens the door to prevent me from responding. Abruptly, we are no longer alone. Fand and the rest of our guard stand ready in the hall, with the Living Council waiting impatiently beside them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 22
Jude And I break down, then he's pullin' me in, Cardan In a world of boys, he's a gentleman.
I am on the High King’s enormous bed, bleeding on his majestically appointed coverlets. Everything hurts. There’s a hot, raw pain in my belly, and my head is pounding. Cardan stands over me. His jacket is thrown on a nearby chair, the velvet soaked through with some dark substance. His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. Getting the blood off them. —the queen of nothing, chapter 17
He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent. I don’t care. I run into his arms. —the queen of nothing, chapter 26
Cardan’s fingers dig into my back. He’s trembling, and whether it is from ebbing magic or horror, I am not sure. But he holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
Jude This is luxury / You're not saying you're in love with me / But you're going to.
I let go of him and remain standing. I promised myself I would do this, if I ever had the chance again. I promised I would do this the first moment I could. “I love you,” I say, the words coming out in an unintelligible rush. Cardan looks taken aback. Or possibly I spoke so fast he’s not even sure what I said. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
Cardan and Jude: Half awake, Taking your chance, It's a big mistake, I said it might blow up in your pretty face, I'm not saying do it anyway, But you're going to.
“Hear my judgment,” Cardan says, authority ringing in his voice. “I hereafter exile Jude Duarte to the mortal world until such time as she is pardoned by the crown. Until then, let her not step one foot in Faerie or forfeit her life.” I gasp. “But you can’t do that!” He looks at me for a long moment, but his gaze is mild, as though he’s expecting me to be fine with exile. As though I am nothing more than one of his petitioners. As though I am nothing at all. “Of course I can,” he replies. “But I’m the Queen of Faerie,” I shout, and for a moment, there is silence. Then everyone around me begins to laugh. I can feel my cheeks heat. Tears of frustration and fury prick my eyes as, a beat too late, Cardan laughs with them. At that moment, knights clap their hands on my wrists. Sir Rannoch pulls me down from the horse. For a mad moment I consider fighting him as though two dozen knights aren’t around us. “Deny it then,” I yell. “Deny me!” He cannot, of course, so he does not. Our eyes meet, and the odd smile on his face is clearly meant for me. —the wicked king, chapter 30
“I need something from you,” I tell Severin. He makes his bow. “Of course, my queen. Whatever is mine is yours.” // You already know how to end the curse. “I do love you,” I whisper. “I will always love you.” I tuck the golden bridle into my belt. Two paths are before me, but only one leads to victory. But I don’t want to win like this. Perhaps I will never live without fear, perhaps power will slip from my grasp, perhaps the pain of losing him will hurt more than I can bear. And yet, if I love him, there’s only one choice. —the queen of nothing, chapters 25 // 26
Jurdan And if I'm gonna be drunk / Might as well be drunk in love.
“I knew little else, but I always knew you.” And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. —the queen of nothing, chapter 27
more 1989/tfota posts on #1989 tv as jude and cardan’s version tag
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ithinkinggenshin · 1 year
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Yae Miko with a GN!reader and Yae is scared that she might be accidentally hurting or manipulating S/O, so she's confused as to why S/O keeps coming back to her, scared that she might be accidentally gaslighting S/O when in reality she's doing nothing wrong
"Loving you, killing you, isn't it thrilling? You've said enough from those guts you've been spilling through Crying and begging, a lovely sound I tear at your soul, but you still stick around What I've found is a treasure indeed A friend who can bend to my every need I'll use and abuse you and never feel bad, until suddenly, funnily, you take my hand Tangle you tight in the yarns that I've spun And I'll do it again, to get what I want Pretend that I'm harmless, I'm actually alarmed this is something charming to anyone... (wow) The fact can actually make Death wanna Die? I'm the one that you love, and I'm making you cry And it's "just me", after all"
"You know, I want you to care that I want you to stay So I swear I won't blame you if you turn away At the end of the day, I will smile and give in to this burning and vile Original sin 'Cause hell is the realization you're selfish And drawn to the loving, the soft and the helpless I can see through that facade that you wear When you're honest, and promise you'll fight the despair And I'll say it again, that I know I'm the worst So then how can you spend so much love on the person that hurts you Like I do? 'Cause inside, I can't hide that I cannot desert you And if I'm "the world" to you, surely you never stood even a chance at all, didn't you? It's me, after all"
This request was based on the song "Ijimeko Bully" by Mori Calliope so please try to focus most on the themes of the song also here is the overall lyric analysis made by the song writer/singer:
"The basic theme and motif is, it is a self-hating song. …The self-hatred is accompanied by confusion as to why someone still continues to love them. Think of like, for example, a kind of Beauty and Beast situation. There’s a terrible beast who doesn’t understand why when they continue to hurt the person they care about, the person that they care about keeps coming back to them. …This is coming from the perspective of the beast.
Something I want to make really clear is, in this sense, because this is coming from the beast’s mind, there are mentions of things like hurting, abuse, et cetera. This is because, since we’re in the mind of the beast, these are just things that this villainous being believes that they are doing, right? So perhaps they aren’t actually hurting someone. But they hate themselves so much that any time they give the bluntest little quip against someone that they care about. while to that other person it might feel like, “ouch that was kind of a harsh word,” to the beast, perhaps, it feels like they’ve done something horrible and struck and actually hurt that person much more deep than what may be the truth.
So for example, while I don’t actually go out of my way to go on rants and tirades and angry shouting at anyone because I really don’t like confrontation, sometimes I’ll give a sharp little remark or say, “Oh, that wasn’t funny.” But it’s like, it feels to me as soon as I’ve said it I regret it, and I say, “oh man, oh shit oh fuck, oh no,” and I feel like I’ve really hurt that person. There are times when I’ve apologized afterward to people that I care about, and they say, “What are you talking about, it’s fine, y'know it was a little annoying, but it’s not that big of a deal, dude.” And maybe the root of that is because the beast actually just hates themself. So there’s the self-hatred part. ‘Calli’s the beast?’ Maybe!"
Bully?
Fandom: Genshin Impact
Characters: Yae Miko
Pairings: Yae Miko x GN! Reader
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 655
Synopsis: Oh little red, what an innocent face. Let me eat you up. You’ll sit well in my stomach. …Won’t you?
Extra Notes: I really like this ask. I like the lyrics of the song too. Very thoughtful. Thanks for requesting!
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Yea is known for making people sweat and squirm. On occasion she’s made some of them cry. At first she thought you were simply a masochist, continually coming back to her with that big, dopey smile and offerings only to be turned into a flustered mess when she teased you. But you kept coming back. Then she thought you were trying to bribe her, everyone who comes to the shrine has some sort of desire, whether or not they want to admit it. But you voluntarily said that the only thing you wanted was to see her. Finally, she thought you were a blind, lovestruck fool. No one really loves her. No one even truly knows her. You just want to have a pretty and powerful woman like her wrapped around your finger, but if you think Yae is going to fall for that, you’re sorely mistaken. But you surprise her once again. You claim to not care if she loves you. You admit to having a crush on her. Yae cuts you off with a quip about how she’d never date a human. You look down shamefully but continue on and say that you’d still like to be her friend. You enjoy seeing her in action and the conversations you have with her are entertaining. And that one day, You can know the real her.
Yae is stunned by your confession. Taken back by your sincerity. She sorely regrets making that snide remark earlier.
The sunset light hits your face beautifully, and you smile at her. It’s time for you to go back to your boring, little human life. Yae almost doesn’t hear your question of if she wants you to come back the next day, as you always do. She waves you off and says that you can do whatever you want. She’s hit with another wave of guilt as your face falls.
The response was something typical of her to say, but it still hurt for you to hear.
Yae isn’t sure how to react to this rare feeling of discomfort. Since when is she uncomfortable with being herself? Normally she basks in a person’s crestfallen face or at least is disappointed in it. But just now, with you, she felt… ashamed of herself.
You disappear down the mountain and Yae retires to her chambers. She doesn’t sleep. One night of missed sleep is nothing to her. Instead she lays in her comfy futon and thinks about all the times she must have hurt you. She says so many things in a day, so used to saying whatever will get the best reaction out of people.
She used to think it was you that she had to be wary of. Oh how the tables have turned. The reality is that it’s you who should be avoiding her.
Miko feels as though she’s been stabbed as the thought of you avoiding her crosses her mind. What a terrible life that would be, she thinks to herself.
But…
She can’t argue that it would be better for you. Even she has to admit to the damages she must have done to you. The ways she’s baited you, letting her teasing go too far. She’s taken every gift you gave, every compliment, everything. Such an adorable, little piece of sunshine. Little red riding hood just trying to pick flowers for grandma and the big bad wolf— Yae came along and ruined everything. Stole your innocence and hope. All while smiling about it.
Yae is torn between wanting you to come back and hoping you stay away. She’s a bad influence. A bad person. She’ll only continue to hurt you. It’s who she is after all. You’ll never truly know her. You’ll never make it past her walls. You’ll start climbing and she’ll tease you and laugh when you fall and land on your ass. It’s just too entertaining. It's too mean. She should tell you to stay away.
Even if it makes her heart sting.
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moon-fics · 1 year
Text
Wedding Bells- Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw
A/n: I love Top Gun and the second movie! They make brain go brrrrrr!
Summary: What a lovely wedding and a perfect groom!
Warning: Swears?,Angst, sad :(
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It's a beautiful day. Scratch that, it's a perfect day. The wedding you organized is perfect, nothing out of place. Why? Because this is the moment you've been waiting for, many years of knowing the man you love has to lead up to this day. You want everything to be spectacular for him, so he won't stress the way you did while planning. He deserves a day where his mind isn't everywhere.
"Cloud!" A familiar voice calls. You spin on your heel, your dress swaying from your movement. You spent hours on your appearance and you've been doing everything to make sure nothing ruins it. So when Rooster's frantic figure almost slams into you, you step back to avoid getting hit. His breathing is heavy and you're about to question why he isn't in his dressing room getting ready. "I need your help!"
"Did something happen?" You question, giving your groom a warm smile. You're pretty sure he's going to tell you that someone spilled a drink on the white tablecloths or the caterers aren't here yet. You've spent years planning this wedding, so you've made backup plans. However, what he tells you destroys your heart.
Once he finished ranting and begging for your help, you put a hand on his shoulder and give him a reassuring smile. Without another word you head towards the women's dressing room, clenching your fists. You're about to give up everything.
When reaching the dressing room you've already duct taped your heart together. You knock on the door, body shaking. You're not ready for this, and you never will be. But, you can't continue the wedding without this person. The bride.
"Honey, you've gotta get out of the dressing room." You call out, getting silence in return. You know she's in there because one of her shoes is right beside you. "Come on, Rooster is really worried!" You knock again, but nothing. You lean against the door, to steady yourself. Every part of you is screaming to be selfish, call off the wedding, and kick her from Rooster's life. But how devastated he'd be.
"I can't do it! I'm not ready!" You hear her voice muffled by the door. You hate how she's hesitating to marry one of the best men on earth, but it's natural to be scared on this day. 
"I've seen the way you look at him and how he looks at you. You've been ready since the beginning." You assure her. You're not lying, you have seen their expressions. It's something you'll never get from him, not in a million years. "You love him, you've made sure everyone here knows you love him. You'll still love him after the wedding." There's a pause where a bit of shuffling can be heard from behind the door.
"Do you really think he'll be happy with me our whole lives?" Destroy her confidence. Make her run out of the reception and never contact him again. Make him hate her guts so things will go back to how they were. 
"Yes, I think he'll love you until the end of time." You can feel tears rolling down your cheek, your makeup will leave evidence of this. Luckily, you can pass it off as happy tears. The door opens and the bride is standing right in front of you, a weak grin on her face. You bend over to pick up her missing shoe, handing it to her. "Get ready, today will be amazing."
That's all you can stand, one more second and you'll break down in front of her. You walk away, heading back to the main room with all the chairs. You had to fight for this specific room for the reception and almost bribed another couple.
You glance around the room, making eye contact with Rooster. His eyes go wide and he makes his way toward you. His eyes are scanning yours for any news he can get before you speak. You're partially glad you don't have to tell him he's single again.
"She'll be ready soon! I got her to think clearly!" You comfort him. He sighs in relief, shoulders slumping a bit. He pulls you into a tight hug, head resting on your shoulder.
"You are a lifesaver, ya know that? You're the best!" He chuckles, pulling away. You nod, unable to speak. He doesn't bother to notice, moving away from you right after.
-
Watching her walk down the aisle is the worst pain you've ever endured. Not even the feeling of your jet spinning out can top this because you're not in danger. Your life is perfectly safe at this moment, so your brain isn't running a mile a minute. No, your brain is taking this moment in as slowly as possible, getting every second engrained.
This wedding is perfect because it's the wedding you wanted. Rooster wanted you to design it and you've known the bride long enough for her to trust you. So, every detail is from your dream wedding. Every detail except the bride, because you planned it to be you. It's not, though. It never will be.
Once the wedding itself is over, you head to the exit. You're not sticking around for the party, you already know how it'll go. You head to your car, biting your lip to hold back the sobs trying to unleash themselves. You place a hand on your car, hunching over the trunk. You let it all out, the agonizing pain you've put up with. This is your safe space right now, the spot you've planted yourself in order to get out all the tears for tonight.
"Cloud, what's going on?" That voice. That stupid fucking voice that you fell in love with years ago. You gasp, wiping your tears knowing your makeup is completely messed up. "Did something happen in there? Did someone hurt you?" Always the knight in shining armor he is. 
"No, Roo. Just an emotional night." You sigh, unlocking your car for a quick getaway. You're not about to confess your feelings for a married man, you're better than that. 
"Come back into the building, I'll stick by you if that makes you feel better." He suggests. You want to take his offer, to take his hand and enter the building. Spend the night pretending like you're the woman he wants. But how would the bride feel? You know Rooster would spend the whole night next to you just to make sure you're ok. 
"Bradly, I'm not feeling too well. I really want to stay but I don't think I can." You lie, finally facing him. 
"Oh, jeez I'm sorry. Well, thank you for staying during the important parts. I really appreciate you doing all this work for us." You plaster a smile on to hide the new tears threatening to leave. You hate how shattered you feel right now. 
"Of course! I'd do anything for my best friend!"
That's the gist of the conversation, he heads back to the wedding after that. You're left to get into your car and slam a fist on the wheel, barely missing the horn. The drive home is silent and lonely.
You know you won't be contacting him anytime soon. In fact, you might never contact him again. In some way, tonight was the last hoorah of your friendship. Concrete evidence that he'll never be yours and who are you to sit and be envious of something so lovely?
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divine-misfortune · 10 months
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That prompt list....."you better watch your fucking mouth" you already know who I want.
The sound of skin meeting skin was sharp and almost enough to cut through the throb of anger behind Rain's eyes.
Almost.
He looked down at the little ghoul on the floor of the dressing room, and by Lucifer did he look little. The force of his palm meeting Dew's cheek had been enough to put him on his ass. His hair was let loose from the halfhearted attempt to pull it up and awkwardly fell over his face. He was sure Dew was grateful for something to hide behind.
It had gone silent since Dew had stupidly opened his mouth.
"Do you ever shut up?"
It was surely a joke, and maybe on another day Rain could have taken it as one but the fire ghoul had just spent the day worming his way under his skin. Intentional or not, the pressure had been building. Maybe it was the tone that did him in, the snort and slight curl of his lip.
Not that it mattered.
The other ghoul's felt it coming before Dew even realized he'd pushed a bit too far. It had taken him entirely off guard.
"Do you?!" Rain snapped and watched Dew shrink into the cheap carpet. He stepped forward and Dew seemed to scramble back but found himself cornered between the water ghoul and the couch. "Look at me."
Crouching in front of him, Dew went rigid. His eyes remained glued to the floor. This close, he could see his pupils blown out and hear his uneven breathing, he could even smell the faint scent of burnt sugar. Rain knew if he were to press his palm between Dew's shaking thighs, he'd feel him getting hard. His only saving grace was their uniform's pants being loose. Surely everyone could smell it though, the little freak was getting off on this.
Rain seized his jaw and forced his face upwards. The place his palm had connected was already an angry shade of red. Dew winced.
"Were you desperate for my attention or just too stupid to remember your manners?" He asked in a voice that surely sent shivers down the poor fire ghoul's spine.
"I-"
"Once is me being kind, you should be grateful." He all but hissed, nails digging into his cheeks. "Consider yourself lucky we're due on stage soon."
"T...Thank you." Dew's words warbled, his throat threatening to go tight as tears pricked in his eyes. Rain felt the sickly pleasant twist in his gut when they dared to spill down his cheeks.
"You better learn to watch your fucking mouth," he dragged the nail of his thumb just below the curve of Dew's bottom lip. "Open."
The word took too long to register in Dew's brain. Still dizzy from the impact and only growing fuzzier around the edges from the way the water ghoul talked down to him. Rain rolled his eyes when he didn't comply fast enough. He forced his thumb past his lips, hooked it behind his teeth, and pried his jaw open.
Dew whined in protest but it went entirely ignored.
He leaned over the little ghoul. Simply jerking his head into place like his comfort meant little to him, because it did. If he wanted Rain's compassion, or even his pity, he'd have remembered who he was speaking to.
"I don't want another fucking word from you tonight."
Rain spit into the other ghoul's open mouth and the tears only seemed to keep flowing.
"Hold it." He ordered and clamped Dew's mouth shut again, "if you swallow it before I tell you to, you'll wish I'd only slapped you. Understood?"
Dew's eyes remained wide like a deer in headlights but he nodded slowly. Cautiously, like one wrong move might earn him something worse, because it would.
"Good." The sharp edge in his voice dulled down to something akin to pleasant as he picked himself up. He gave the hem of his vest a tug to straighten it out like nothing had happened. "Now pull yourself together, you look fucking pathetic."
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bippot · 5 months
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Summary: How many times does Vigilante need to get injured before Harcourt finally gives in and hires a medic to help out with the squad's injuries? Far too many times, that's how many.
When it's uncovered that a fancy hotel is linked to, not only what's left of the legion of butterflies, but also a string of weird deaths and missing persons reports, the only two for the job are lovesick Adrian and the newbie.
Additional Tags: Canon-Typical Violence, Gun Violence, Blood and Injury, Undercover as a Couple, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Summer Vacation, Butterflies, Alien Invasion, Stitches, Weird Biology, Creep in a Bathroom, Aphrodisiacs, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Drugging, Peeping, general weirdness, Human Experimentation
Peacemaker, Adrian Chase Masterlist - here
Previous Chapter: Milkweed
The hotel stayed at the same level of weird for a week.
Women were heavily suggested to get a massage every other day, which was a nice luxurious thing to be offered, but the hotel staff were quite obvious that it was a non-negotiable because the one time Y/N chose to accompany Adrian to the gym instead of having her stomach pudge palmed around and played with until the masseuse thought their session was over, the men in the gym gave her very disapproving looks.
On Wednesdays and Fridays they were allowed to venture into Dubai with an escort. It took some sharp turns and confusing indirect paths to shake them off but the couple did eventually and managed to meet up with the rest of their team in the back room of a sushi restaurant. The 11th Street Kids were told about just about everything - even the things that weren't mission related - because as soon as Chris said one thing that sounded like a question to Adrian, he was spilling his guts.
Emilia kept a completely blank expression throughout it all, though Y/N could tell she was as weirded out as the rest of them. Especially when she lunged to hug her sister goodbye and whispered, "Be smart, squish."
Daily affirmation time was consistently so troubling for Adrian. He needed comforting before and after or else he would freak out. No matter how many times Y/N assured him that he didn't need to feel bad for giving her smooches whilst she was in that state, he wouldn't hear it. After every session, Y/N would spend the next two or so hours stroking his hair and murmuring words of comfort until he calmed down. He would still feel guilty, but hey, it was their job.
As far as they knew, Milkweed didn't have any negative effects, which was good news. Adrian reported no changes to his body or digestive system or general functions. Y/N, however, had noticed a change. "Do my boobs look bigger to you?" she asked him out of the blue one evening while they were getting ready for bed. At this point, they'd stopped retreating into the bathroom to change so she was fully on show to him.
He'd managed to get somewhat used to the sight. If she said anything remotely flirty or gave him a kiss whilst only in her bra and panties, his dick would be up in an instant. But the attire without that, he could keep a handle on himself. That was progress.
"Is this a trick question? If I answer, you'll yell at me for looking at your boobs?"
"Ade, I'm not blind. I can see it when you look at my boobs." His cheeks turned a lovely pink shade. "And because you seem to like doing so, can you give them a stare and tell me if they look any different?"
This was new territory for Adrian. He liked looking at her breasts, yeah, but he mostly tried to be secretive about the whole thing. Now that he was being directly asked to do it, well, he wasn't going to squander this opportunity!
"They do look bigger..." he replied quietly, trying not to let himself sound too excited by it.
Her hands came up to cup her boobs. "Hmm...they feel bigger too. I don't know what to make of this information," she pondered out loud, making the flush in his cheeks spread downwards towards his chest. "Can I ask something else of you?"
"If I say yes, will you stop staring at me with those big annoying eyes of yours and let me sleep?"
"Oh, I'm not going to say it now."
Y/N had to hide her smile as she crawled into bed and pretended to give him the silent treatment, which turned him into a mess of 'I was kidding!', 'Tell me, please!' and 'I'm sorry I called you annoying' and other pleads for her attention. He whined and curled himself around her, poking his nose into the crook of her neck and kissing her shoulder affectionately whenever he felt brave enough to try to steal one.
"I was going to ask if you'd do me a favour by keeping an eye on these bad boys to keep me updated - I don't know - if the left side suddenly becomes a cup bigger for example and I don't realise. But no, you clearly don't want this job -"
"I want this job!" He interrupted quickly, almost sounding offended that she said otherwise. "If there is anything I can do, it's look at your boobs and tell you if they're bigger! I can do that! Easily!"
She giggled, turning herself around so she faced him and placed her palm against his cheek. "I know, baby, I'm just teasing you." She pulled back so he'd be able to see every part of her face as she reassured, "I trust you to keep an eye out for me."
"I will. You can trust me with this," Adrian replied, his entire being showing how serious he was about this. It was fucked up that this place was physically changing her body.
To express her gratitude, Y/N wrapped the duvet over them fully before wrapping her arms around Adrian's waist and hugging him closer so she could pepper his cheeks with so many smooches that she felt his face change into a smile before she saw it. She ended with one on his forehead. If he wasn't already obsessed with her, this bout of affection would've done it.
They still had a job to do. There was an unspoken agreement of 'when we're done with the job, we'll properly give us a try' that existed between them. Right now it was hard to ignore how much he wanted her. He wanted her more than he had ever desired anyone before in his life. But that was okay. He would wait. He would love her and cherish her until the end of time. As long as she stayed in his life, he would hold onto this happiness.
Slowly, his thumb began rubbing circles into the soft skin of her face and neck. He loved touching her. It felt like such a foreign sensation that he always had to force himself to stop before he did something more severe. He'd never admit how much he actually enjoyed caressing her face and feeling her breath on his fingertips, but the way it felt was incredible. He couldn't think straight. He felt like his thoughts were getting more wild every day. He was soon to be clouded by passion and lust.
A few minutes went by in silence as he stared lovingly into her eyes. His caress continued its rhythmic motion, creating little circular motions and sending tingles throughout her entire body. This kind of contact wasn't something he usually initiated, especially not without asking beforehand. But he wanted to. He needed to touch her. She felt warm underneath his fingers. His thumb slid along her skin and travelled over her jaw, to her chin and to the tip of her cupid's bow. Her mouth opened slightly and his finger ghosted softly across her bottom lip. Then it trailed back down to where it started and the process started all over again until they decided to pack it in for the night.
The very next day, they took a step forward that they'd never be able to take back. It wasn't the couple's fault. The hotel had decided to get more weird. Well, maybe weird wasn't the right word to use. Fucking debauched probably is.
Sparrow had dropped hints here and there that a lot of the all of the other couples had really let loose during the daily affirmation session, which was very obvious when they emerged from their designated room with their hair all mussed and their clothes buttoned up incorrectly, and that the Bardots were an outlier. They were very serious outliers but he didn't need to know that.
When Y/N didn't feel any of the effects that usually presented themselves whenever they were in the affirmation room, she was a little confused. Had they forgotten to drug her? Had they figured them out and now they were forever locked in this hippie jail? Or was it simply that her tolerance had improved so quickly that it no longer affected her? Whatever the case, Adrian wouldn't have to take on this situation all on his lonesome today.
"Hey champ," she cooed in her normal voice, not the sluggish roofied version he was used to. "Say the words to me, baby."
So, he did. He was rewarded with a peck on the lips, which was normal, but the expression on her face was totally different than usual. Her eyes didn't have their usual glazed appearance and appeared to be sharper, clearer. And then she grinned at him happily, showing off that she was completely herself and out of relief, he surged forward to give her a proper smooch and wrapped her in his arms.
Throughout the session, they were very giggly, very sweet, and overall extremely touchy and kissy. It was so different to the 'I have to be respectful towards my roofied friend that I'm not so secretly in love with but still kiss her in a manner that seems like we are a newly married couple' vibe that he usually had to go through every day. Had they been reverse psychologied into being more affectionate?
Whatever the case, they exited the room in higher spirits than they ever had before. And since they didn't need to spend the next part of their afternoon calming down, they could do some sneakery. Y/N's plan was to use Auggie's robotic bee to do some spying. Adrian's plan was to watch Y/N execute Y/N's plan.
But as they walked through their hotel room door, they noticed something was different. The room being tidied up and the bed being made was normal - that's what happens in hotels. The fact that the gift basket that had previously contained the camera that was spying on them had been swapped out for a new one was definitely something to think about. And once Y/N had scanned to ensure that they weren't being recorded and broadcast to the enemy, she got on with her plan.
Auggie's bee was controlled like a child's toy helicopter and had a little screen between the two joysticks that showed a live feed of what the robot was seeing. It took a few minutes for Y/N to get used to the controls and adjust all the dials and buttons before bee was finally ready to fly.
Sat side by side on the couch, they got to work. The top level of the new gift basket was a bunch of chocolate bars and Adrian snatched them up in one swoop. As he watched Y/N, he munched on the sweet treats. Usually, he'd limit himself to just a few squares but he was on holiday, why not?! Why not eat as much as he desired? Today had been a great day so far.
Go fuckin ham on that chocolate bar! Maybe have two of them!
Surely, there won't be any repercussions for that.
"You want a choccie?" he mumbled, taking a bite out of the brown square in his hand.
"No thanks, champ. Eat to your heart's content."
Y/N was too focused on getting the bee in the air to even think about snacking. She held the robot in the palm of her hand and pushed up the joystick until the small bee was hovering in front of her nose, her eyes going cross-eyed as they followed the movement. With a few careful pushes, the bee buzzed out of the window and began its journey.
At first, she flew the bee around the outdoor premises but didn't find much, so they ventured through the grand front doors and saw a few people milling around in the lobby but no one paid attention to the flying object. Soon enough, they were going deeper into the corridors of the hotel and eventually came to a staircase leading to an area where they hadn't ever seen before.
"This must be the staff wing," she thought aloud. She wasn't expecting any response from Adrian, but he did let out an affirmative hum and relaxed further into the couch.
The bee zipped past a guy dressed in an incredibly mucky and disgusting looking lab coat that was a direct contrast to the clean and polished state of the rest of the hotel. Lab coat was treading carefully, an enormous amount of test tubes on a rack rested across his forearms. The guy glanced up for a split second when the bee buzzed right above his head but he didn't seem to notice or acknowledge its presence.
They followed the man down the stairs and kept heading deeper into the hotel until lab coat got to a heavily fortified locked door. He knocked once on the wall directly to the right of the door, popped open a hidden compartment with an eyeball scanner and bent down so it could get a read on his iris. A series of clicks rang out from the mechanism behind him and the door clicked open to reveal a large examination table covered head to toe in sterile white sheets, a few huge cabinets, a bunch of medical looking equipment and machines with a bunch of tubes and wires.
Quietly, the guy placed the samples on the table and scanned the room for his boss, looking over his shoulder to make sure. Once the coast was absolutely clear, he slyly reached into one of the cabinets and pocketed a bottle filled with a pinkish liquid, getting the vial safely concealed by the time one of his coworkers came into the room.
"Davey, the boss says you can clock out for the day if you want, yeah?" the new guy announced while he looked over his clipboard and began checking off various notes.
"Oh, cool. Yeah, I'll do that," Davey replied far too awkwardly for him to have done something normal, grabbing his things and exiting the room quickly. His colleague shrugged it off.
A lot of people in this place were weird.
When Davey left, Y/N manoeuvred the bee to look through the cabinets and found that each one of them was lined up with hundreds - if not thousands - of labelled test tubes, some empty, some not. The cabinet on the left was a vast array of colours, from yellow to blue to red, some labelled in fancy letters but most in plain black block capitals, and seemed to be named after emotions.
Davey had stolen a pink one. A lust one.
Oh, that's why he was in a rush to get home. To jerk it. Respect.
On the right side, the vials corresponded to the guests of The Monarch Hotel. Only a couple of them contained a honey coloured creamy gloop of some kind. The bee stopped at the 'Bardot' vial and, to their delight, it was one of the empty ones. Whatever DNA they were collecting, they hadn't got their hands on it yet.
Queen Caroline's was a quarter full. That was concerning.
Beside her, Adrian got all fidgety all of a sudden. He'd been sitting very patiently, his arm slung around the back of the couch and fingers occasionally pinching fabric at her shoulder, but suddenly, his leg started bouncing up and down. The amount of time between pinches shortened considerably and she felt how tense he became against her side.
"You good, champ?" she asked without looking back at him, concentrating on keeping the bee in the air as she searched the shelves for what else might be useful.
"...Yeah?"
"You don't sound convinced."
Adrian felt hot all over, an overwhelming heat that burned his skin as it rushed from head to toe. It was bearable for now.
He grabbed the nearest cushion and hugged it closer to him, hugging it for dear life, trying desperately not to melt into a puddle on the floor. His heart raced and he couldn't calm it. His breathing turned uneven and shaky and he was pretty sure his chest was going to burst open any moment. He needed a distraction.
Something to stop himself from thinking of...her...
Because Y/N was right beside him, their thighs almost touching, and that was simply too far away. Too much space. Too much temptation. His brain was too imaginative; too hyperactive. There was nothing he wanted more than to smack the controller out of her hand and pounce.
What if he was all suave and sexy and that totally forced her to pay attention to him and not that racist bee? He'd do that move he'd seen in a bunch of rom-coms and turn her chin to plant one on her lips. She'd be surprised but quickly melt into it and he'd feel her hands on his hips pulling him closer until -
No. No. This was only making it worse and he knew it. But the urge was still there. Well, it was always there. The desire to capture Y/N's focus and make 100% sure she'd never be able to think about anything other than him was prominent and constant in every aspect of his mind. He'd been able to push it down with the reminder that they were working so it wasn't really appropriate.
Now, it was unbearable.
There was no way this could be pushed down. There was going to be an explosion, he knew that. And so she didn't have to witness that, he blurted out, "I'm gonna, fuck, I'm going to shower. Don't come in," and hurried to the bathroom so she wouldn't see the boner in his trousers.
Thank god she was busy because it was like a beacon. It was the most comically obvious erection he'd ever had.
Y/N's brows pinched together for a moment, obviously twigging that he was acting weirder than usual but let him get on with whatever he needed to get on with, and continued to scout around the examination room. There wasn't much that could be observed without actual being in the room and touching things and jiggling vials around to test the consistency of the unknown liquids, so she found the nearest exit point - which was a window that was cracked open just an inch - and as the bee left, another figure entered the room.
If she'd stayed for a second longer, she would've seen a face she knew far too well.
"Oooh f-ffuck!"
A loud and frustrated grunt came from the bathroom, barely hidden by the sounds of the shower turning on, and that pulled Y/N's focus away in an instant. She happened to glance where Adrian had been sitting and set her eyes on the chocolate he'd been eating. She got the bee back to their hotel room as quickly as she could.
"Hey, how are you feeling, champ?" She yelled through the door and put her ear up to the wood panelling trying to hear any noises coming from inside the room.
"Fucking peachy, thanks. Thank you! Please don't come in," he spat out, though there was a crack in his voice that told her everything she needed to know.
"I know what's going on, baby. It's okay. Just take your time, I won't peek. Let it all out, yeah?"
That dumb slut had eaten a bar and a half of aphrodisiac chocolate.
Normally, you're only supposed to eat one square. He had ingested around ten times that in one sitting. She was surprised that the head of his penis hadn't exploded from all the blood rushing there.
For the next quarter of an hour, Y/N tried to act normal and read a book whilst Adrian was very loudly jerking off in the shower. She assumed he'd have a dirty mouth judging by how carelessly he throws out vulgarity in regular situations, but he'd actually confined himself to mostly moan out swear words or the occasional "Oh god".
Yeah, it was still hot. Yet, she assumed it would've been hotter.
"Y/N?"
"Yeah?"
"It's not working." He sounded defeated, broken even and Y/N was torn between wanting to go inside and comfort him for his pain, and staying professional. "You won't laugh at me, will you?"
"Of course not, baby."
Another groan was let out.
"Please don't call me that right now. It makes it so much harder, y'know?"
The bathroom door cracked open a few inches, revealing a flushed Adrian with a towel wrapped around his waist - and a huge tent in the middle - peering out into the bedroom through the gap. He blinked several times and wiped his sweaty forehead with the palm of his hand before opening it further and stepping out, his pained frustration so obvious on his face he looked nearly ill.
The sight caused a tug at Y/N's heartstrings.
"Come sit down'," she whispered, standing up and reaching forward to gently brush the hair away from his eyes so she could properly look at him. He leaned into her touch like a needy cat and she brushed her thumb along his cheekbone tenderly. "Is my touch helping?"
"Nope. If anything, it's making it worse. But I like it when you touch me," he admitted before closing his eyes, leaning forward, and resting his forehead on her shoulder. Her hand brushed through the hair at the back of his head again, her fingers running through and attempting to soothe the tension she could feel. "Why is this happening to me, Y/N?"
Obviously, he didn't read the chocolate wrapper.
"You ate far too much 'Cookie Crumble Nookie' and, yeah, now this is happening," Y/N informed him, reaching for the packaging so he could read what he'd done to himself.
His shoulders tensed.
"...Shit."
"Mhm."
"I fucked up big time, didn't I? I can't believe I let myself get carried away with the chocolate. Fuck. Why did I do this to myself? Fuck! What should I do? I mean-"
"We'll figure this out."
She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He seemed so vulnerable, unable to keep his composure under pressure anymore and, as he slumped forward into her shoulder again. She pulled him in and embraced him gently, hoping to comfort him in some small way. She ran her fingers along the back of his neck, massaging it gently, and he relaxed slightly under her ministrations, melting against her and letting out a long exhale.
"Can I ask you some medical questions about your arousal?" she ventured after a couple of quiet minutes had passed and he seemed calmed down a bit.
"Uh… sure…"
Removing himself from her shoulder, he gulped the biggest gulp she'd ever seen and stared at her expectantly. She took in his flushed cheeks. His dilated pupils. His damp skin. His clenched jaw. His tense muscles.
It should've been a really sexy sight but it wasn't. He looked so uncomfortable and unsure of himself and Y/N felt bad seeing him like this. She hated how much this affected him.
"If you had to estimate, how long do your erections usually last if you don't stimulate yourself?"
There was a brief pause that caused a slight crease between Adrian's eyebrows as he tried to get an honest answer. She could tell he was thinking hard. "Normally... usually between 10 and 40 minutes. Sometimes longer," he admitted eventually without a hint of shyness. He was sitting there rock hard and whining for her touch as they spoke about the habits of his penis
Any sense of pride or bashfulness had been thrown straight out the window.
"Hmm... That sounds normal to me."
Mentally, Y/N was running through all the complications that he could be facing at this moment.
"I don't want to alarm you any more than you already are, but have you ever heard of priapism?" He shook his head. "It mostly occurs in patients who have sickle cell but can be developed by anyone with genitalia, although it is more common in men. Basically, it a prolonged - and often tend to be painful - erection where deoxygenated blood gets trapped and if it sits there for too long, it begin to damage the tissues in the penis - "
"I don't have any tissues in my dick so I'll be fine."
"Huh?"
"Yeah, I haven't shoved a Kleenex up there so no problemo for me."
She couldn't help but snort at that. "Okay, that's good to know..." she started, trying to not laugh at the stupid idiot. "I meant tissue like skin tissue."
"Ooooh...gotchu."
"Normally, if an erection lasts more than four hours, you should see a doctor."
"YOU THINK THIS IS GOING TO LAST FOUR HOURS?" He shrieked, sounding absolutely horrified.
Shit, he was barely holding on now. Four hours of this would kill him. It would definitely kill his dick, too. Maybe she could give him something to relieve the pain. A painkiller. A blowie. Something!
"I don't know how long this will last. The instructions on the wrapper say, 'Snap off a square to eat, wait 30 minutes, then get to lovin' for up to the next hour' and you ate ten of these."
1 hour x 10.
"TEN HOURS?!? I can't! That's too long! I can't wait this out!"
"With your healing factor, I assume it will be less. You've consumed enough viagra to keep a horse fucking for a fortnight and if you were a regular human, I don't know, you may have overdosed."
He let his head roll back so he was looking up at the ceiling. "If I died because I overdosed on sex chemicals, Peacemaker would never let me live it down," he huffed, rolling his eyes and glaring at one particular patch of plaster. "For the first time in my life, it's a blessing that I'm not normal."
Laughter flew from Y/N's lips because, yeah, he wasn't normal. Nothing about him was. And that's why she liked him.
"Normal is overrated," she mused out loud before looking over at him. He met her gaze and her breath caught in her throat at the desperation in his eyes. She placed her hand on his cheek and stroked it softly. "You're not normal. You probably never will be. And that's okay," she smiled warmly, leaning forward slightly so their faces were close together, "Don't worry about anything. Just relax, and let me take care of you. Okay?"
"...Okay," he whispered, nodding slowly.
In times of immense and painful need, professionalism was forgotten about for the night, and in doing so just this once, crumbled it into a thousand pieces never to be put back together again. Because even though they were pushed into intimacy by his recklessness, they wouldn't be able to rein themselves back once the deed had been done.
Next chapter: Raw
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lustiswhatweaimfor · 8 months
Text
Craving;
Intimacy, lust
Honesty , trust
Caress my skin with the tip of your tongue
Grip my throat and take the air from my lungs
Pet my hair as I lay on your chest
Hold me tight when I'm yearning for rest
Kiss my eyes when I shut them to sleep
Tickle my back and fuck me deep
Lay with me when I'm feeling high and low
Stab my back with a double edged sword
Love me so fucking raw that it stings
Tell me that you'll take care of everything
Empty my core and spill out my guts
Cut me and form me like a diamond in the rough
Mold me and shape me, then destroy me once I harden
Like a clay pot with broken pieces in the garden
Like a flower that bloomed and was picked far too soon
With her petals wilting in the late summers bloom
Like sky that's emptied without sun or moon
Like the stars that fall to their ever lasting doom
Love me and break me
But put me back together
If you're the puppeteer I'll be the dummy forever
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