#i'd much rather listen to them. i'm fine on my own i just need to write it i think. so tumblr tags ily i'll fix my spam account soon fr | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 10 months

Note

hi jade! i’m obsessed with ur writing. i also love angst so much idk i was thinking maybe for zombie steve, the stress of post college life and everything gets too much for them and it all kinda blows up into a fight and the reader is thinking like his life would be so much easier if we weren’t dating and then it’s them kind of making up??? totally understandable if u don’t wanna make these poor babies suffer any more but just wanted to throw it out there! haha

thank you for your request lovely <3 steve zombie au —a trivial fight snowballs, and you get some much needed reassurances. fem!reader, 3.5k

"I think you're tired," Steve says.

You pull your backpack higher up your shoulders by the straps. "I'm not tired, Steve."

"You haven't slept well in weeks," he says.

"It's not the point. You're not listening to what I'm saying, you're just looking for the problem."

"Because," he says gingerly, "I know that you wouldn't be saying this if you'd been sleeping. That's all I'm saying."

"You're not listening," you insist.

"I am, I am listening," he says, and he doesn't sound mad, but the ice is thinning. "I get that you think we shouldn't be moving along. I understand what you're saying to me, but I really think you're– it's fatigue. You're sick of moving around, I am too, but you know the risk if we stay somewhere."

"You're not listening to me, though, you're discounting my concern because I'm tired, but if I wasn't tired I'd be saying the same stuff. We can't keep moving around, your knee is still hurting even though you refuse to tell me, and you think I don't know but I do know–"

"So the problem is that I'm not telling you my knee hurts?"

"The problem is that you have no sense of self preservation and also that you're really not listening–"

"I'm listening!" Steve says, his voice peaking.

Robin turns to look from where she's walking just ahead with Sarah and the others. She meets Steve's eyes first and then yours, and she smiles at you tentatively, as if to say, Everything okay?

You shake your head at her. Don't worry about it.

"I'm obviously fucking listening," he mutters, looking to the sun as he combs his hair out of his eyes.

"You don't have to be a jerk about it."

"You're jabbing at me."

"I'm jabbing at you?"

"It's black and white with you today. I say black and you say white, and it's giving me a headache."

You huff a breath out. Arguing with Steve is easy, you did it enough when you first met, but it's different now. It hurts your feelings when he digs in.

"That's not true, I don't need to be contrary to disagree with you," you say.

"But you are! You're just disagreeing with me because you're in a bad mood! You know we need to leave, you know it's the right thing, and I just don't want to listen to it anymore."

"Why? Why is it so hard for you to listen to me? You love me," you say. It sounds odd, nearly questioning, and you both flinch.

"Of course I love you. But I'm tired. I don't want to fight."

"It wasn't a fight until you made it one," you say.

Fight or flight doubles and you rush forward and away from him before you can get anymore heated. He says your name but you ignore him, falling in to step with Robin and Sarah.

She frowns at you apologetically. "Sorry, can I…"

"Yeah," you say quickly. "Of course you can."

Robin smiles and drops back to walk with Steve. They don't speak, and you don't look back, but you're glad she's with him even if you're mad at him; you've argued, but you certainly don't want him on his own at the back of the camp's procession.

Sarah smiles at you. She has big green eyes and pretty red hair, straight as a sheet and shiny as silk despite the circumstances. It's greasy at the top, so at least she's not perfect.

"Hey," she says sympathetically, "are you okay?"

Her asking has a heat brewing behind your eyes, but you find it to be annoyance rather than upset.

You have to force the words out, "I'm fine."

She nods, rolling the cord of her tent around her hand. It drags on the floor. It's the mode of transport the majority of your campmates have chosen for their tents and bags, a hundred pack of bungee cords wrapped around tarps and sacks to take some of the strain off of everyone's shoulders. It looks strange, all those camping bags dragging over dirt and grass.

"Love is very difficult," she says. "I don't envy the fighting. But you and Steve don't fight much. I envy that, how happy you are."

You breathe out slowly. She's nice, and Robin likes her, and you'd rather not take your anger out on her.

"It's not difficult," you say eventually. You roll your neck and whine as it clicks. "It's easy. Just hard lately 'cos things are different."

"I guess it's exhausting having to care about someone else. I can hardly find the energy to care about myself." Sarah laughs gently. "Not that people aren't worth loving, but the energy to look after someone, it must be tiring. What I'm trying to say is, I can see why it would be harder lately 'cos we're not at Oaks anymore, you feel like you're always on high alert trying to stop something bad happening."

You hear what she's saying, but you focus in on the wrong part. It's hard, so hard, having to look after someone. And that's all Steve does.

You look over your shoulder. Steve and Robin are walking side by side, Robin's hand curled around his elbow, her cheek dipped momentarily to his arm. "It'll blow over," you think she says.

Steve nudges her. She nudges back.

"Maybe it would be easier if he didn't have to look after me," you say.

You say it because you want reassurance. Sarah races to give it to you, your shoulders relaxing in tandem as she says, "No way! He wouldn't want that, and you don't either. Try not to worry, Y/N. You just need a breather."

—

You are being so, so quiet. Steve knows you struggle talking to him when you're mad. You're not cruel enough for the silent treatment but there's nothing wrong with needing space. He hates how crabby he got with you, but he also genuinely still thinks that he was right.

Who knows. Steve sighs and scratches his stubbly chin. He has a zit coming, he can feel it, and it's driving him crazy.

You'd offer to squeeze it if you weren't fighting. He knows that's a stupid fucking thing to miss, and want, but he likes you taking care of him. He loves that you don't care about the gross stuff, you'll do whatever if it makes him more comfortable. So he sits by the struggling campfire wishing you'd squeeze his stupid zit and say more than, "Hungry?" as you pass him a can of pasta.

You eat in silence. Steve suffers it until he can't anymore.

"Do you want the rest?" he asks, offering you his half-eaten can of low-carb linguini. "It's boring," he warns.

"Swap?" you ask, offering your bowl. You have a mixture of sliced water chestnuts, artichoke hearts, and half of a frankenfurter.

You'd obviously taken the worse option. You could've given him the hodge podge, but you gave him the pasta. He feels bad for complaining and trades dinner with you.

"Do you…"

Steve waits for you to finish. When you don't, he swallows around a chalky water chestnut and asks, "What?"

"Never mind. Forget it."

Steve raises his eyebrows but looks back at his meal. He was hoping you'd say sorry, because he's still feeling too proud but he wants to make up. He thinks maybe he doesn't deserve to make up if he can't bring himself to apologise —you were right that he should listen, even if he's tired. He should have more patience, just patience has never been his strong suit, and he's fucking exhausted and he knows you are too. He's sick of worrying if he did the right thing, and he's still mad at you, but he's starting to wonder if it matters anyways. It was a stupid fight that got too big. If you hadn't walked away, you might've been able to smooth it over. If he wasn't too stubborn to take the five big steps to your side, he could've done the same.

"I'm still annoyed," he says finally, "but I'm sorry for being a dick. Can we… gloss it over for now?"

You usually give in pretty easily. You aren't eager to hold a grudge, a sucker for one of his tight hugs, but you seem pretty reluctant as you nod. He's not as forgiven as he'd like to be. It's fair. His apology wasn't the best.

"Sorry," you mutter.

"Am I a dick if I ask to talk about it when we've both had some sleep?"

You shake your head, shooting him a nice, albeit small, smile. "I think that's a good idea."

Robin appears as you're pitching your tent.

"Okay, don't make this a big deal, but I'm sharing with Sarah tonight."

You smile. Steve frowns.

"Uh?" he asks.

"We were talking about how you guys had your, uh, disagreement, and I mentioned that you're cranky because you never get to hook up because I'm always there, and she invited me. So that's what I'm doing. Maybe you guys will feel better after some time alone."

"You think we're cranky because we aren't hooking up?" Steve asks, genuinely baffled.

"Not really, but Sarah laughed. I," —Robin tucks her hair behind her ear, looking bashful in her huge hoodie— "really do think you could benefit from, like, privacy. Just have some time together. Don't argue again."

"Thanks, Rob," you say.

Robin presses her lips together in a funny smile and shoots you a double finger guns. "I'm a philanthropist."

"Maybe you'll be less cranky when we see you in the morning," Steve says.

"Please, Steven."

Robin says goodnight. You and Steve pitch the tent slowly. He thinks you might be scared of being alone with him while things are still awkward, reluctant to meet his eyes, and you haven't smiled since the little one you offered at the fire.

He sits at the entrance of the tent beside you and sighs. "I'm sorry."

"You already said sorry."

"I know. But I figured it couldn't hurt."

You pull tufts of grass up in your hands, slouched forward into your own lap. He puts his hand on your back and rubs at your poor posture. Sometimes he worries that months ago, when you fell through damp flooring in a dilapidated building hundreds of miles away from here, you'd permanently fucked your discs. Your recovery was rough, and he barely noticed how much grief your back was giving you because he'd been so scared of the lump on the back of your head. He wonders if it still hurts.

He gives it an extra soft rub to be safe.

"Do you think things would be really different if we never met?" you ask.

"Things would be awful–" He starts immediately. You cut him off.

"Would they?" you ask, propping your face in your hand, elbow digging into your knee.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he asks. He's trying to be one hundred percent joking, but it's a solid 80/20, the 20 a startling hurt. "Would things be awful if we never met? Let me think about that one. Yes. Things would be awful."

You smile weirdly.

He takes his hand back. "What, you think things would be better if we never met?"

"For you."

Steve gets this feeling like he's had hot water chucked over him, and his eyes start to hurt. They ache. He could cry for you, he really could. How can you even think that, for a moment, for long enough to ask him, and begin asking him an hour ago? You sat there for an hour thinking about it and this is still the conclusion you came to: you think things would be better for him without you.

Steve takes your face into his hands. He needs you to be looking at him, straight at him and into his eyes as he tells you.

"I would not be here without you."

"But if you were–"

"But I wouldn't be. And not because you saved me from geeks at the start," he says, frowning, furious, "or any time after that. I could be the best survivalist in the world and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"Robin–"

"Is my best friend. I'd die for her." His hands slide further back on your face. "But I wouldn't be here without you."

"I make things so hard for you," you say. Steve watches helplessly as your eyes fill with tears.

"You don't, and if you do, I make things hard for you too."

"I'm sorry for being miserable," you say, staring at his chin.

He ducks his head to force you to meet his eyes. "It's okay, it's okay," —he wipes under your eyes with his thumb to catch a tear that hasn't fallen yet— "it's okay. It doesn't matter. You don't have to be happy, you don't have to be nice to me every second of every day, you just have to know what you mean to me and get a handle on it."

"No, 'cos I know I make it hard, I know I've been hardwork right from the start and I don't get easier. I'm always getting hurt–"

"It breaks my fucking heart, but if you think that matters to me–"

"–I'm not strong, I complain and I– I make bad choices, I cry all the time–"

"Why do you think that?"

"I'm messed up," you say, pulling his hands from your face.

"There's nothing wrong with you." Steve squeezes your hands, shuffling closer to you on knees, desperate to set you straight. "Come on, Y/N. You need to be strong to get through this. You think you'd have gotten this far if you weren't strong?"

"I got here because of you–"

"I'm here because of you," he says firmly. Loud, angry, abrasive in the face of your heartsick tears. "Why can't you see that? Did I do something, to make you think you can't do this?"

"You didn't do anything, Stevie," you sniffle, wiping your cheek with the back or your wrist, "and it's not the point."

"What's the point?" he asks, much softer than before.

You shrug. You wipe your cheeks again, stemming the rapid flow of tears spilling at the corners of your eyes. Your lashes are darkened triangles against your skin. "I don't know. I just wish you had someone looking after you who could actually look after you, rather than make you miserable all the time."

"I'm not miserable." Steve takes in a big breath, hand tangling in the worn fabric of your shirt as he leans in too close. "Would you tell me why you're crying?" he asks quietly, tilting his head to one side. "Please. Just tell me what's wrong."

"I don't want to fight anymore," you say, and you sob.

"We're not fighting, baby," he says, hand slipping under your t-shirt. His palm roves the soft pouch of your stomach to your side, where he grasps at you, pulling you in toward him for a hug. His chin bumps into your shoulder, your wet cheek to his stubbly one. "This isn't a fight, this is me trying to make you feel better, honey. I don't want you to feel like this."

"I'm worried you'd be better off without me," you mumble, lowering your head and pressing your eyes to his shoulder, the wet of your tears leaching into his shirt. "I'm doing it right now, I'm being fucking useless."

"Why are you so afraid of being upset?" he asks, frowning.

"Because you never are," you say. You move into his touch, like you're trying to climb into his lap. Steve yanks you forward.

"That's not true, you've seen me at my worst. You've seen me angry, and mean. Crying my eyes out."

"You cry when things are bad. I cry all the time," you say, sounding very, very small.

"Honey, I cry more than you think. I cried two nights ago. I cried when you were sick." He doesn't enjoy admitting it, because he wants to be strong for you, but he thinks his confession is a different kind of strength, and one you're in dire need of. "I'm sorry I don't always let you know. It's not fair. I expect you to tell me everything and I keep shit from you."

"Why did you cry two nights ago?" you ask, peeling away enough to look up into his face.

He has to tell you, even if he doesn't want to. He should've told you when it happened. "I felt sick."

"Yeah? Like nauseous? Do you feel sick now?"

"Not really. I don't like seeing you cry, but I'm alright." Steve's hand slides down your side to the hem of your jeans, his thumb pushing into the waistband. "See?" he asks imploringly. "I felt like shit so I cried, and it doesn't mean you'd be better off without me. It just means I felt sick. You don't have to give meaning to everything, you really don't. I hate to say this, but you have to keep your head up. For me."

You nod, sniffling and wiping your snotty nose with your sleeves. He bats your hand away and does it bare handed. There are much worse things in the world than this. In fact, he's happy to do it.

"I'm sorry, for fighting with you and for crying all over you." You laugh, and Steve's heart soars.

"I love you, you idiot," he says. "I love you. Hold still a second."

Steve climbs up on knees to press kisses from temple to temple, from temple to chin, and from chin to your lips. Your skin is hot and damp under his lips but he traverses unperturbed, trying to plaster each inch of your frankly gorgeous face in love.

"I want you with me forever," he says, hoping you understand exactly the severity of what he means.

"I want you," you say. "As long as you'll have me. Forever and ever." You give a few quick nods, and the sadness drains from your expression, replaced with a relieved and ecstatic affection instead. "I really think I might be tired."

"You think?" he asks. You laugh together, and he grabs your hand, giving it a sharp squeeze as he tacks on, "But I really need to listen to you, even if I'm irritable."

"We take stuff out on each other sometimes," you say.

He squeezes your pinky finger. "We do. It's gonna happen. And I'm glad it's me and you, you know? I don't wanna fight, but I want it to be with you."

"I want it to be with you, too," you say.

He can finally relax for the night. You make your way into your tent and lie on your backs, ankles hooked, a shitty paperback resting on your chest. The camp quietens as people head to their own tents for the night, though a gaggle of people stay awake at the fire, telling stories and laughing. Despite everything, there are moments when all of this feels fun. When Steve can pretend he's two years ago on a loser-group camping trip. And maybe he didn't know you then, but he would've seen you across the way and asked you out. Or he would've bumped into you at the communal showers and told you how to work the ice machine. Maybe you would've met at the lake. Maybe you would've hated one another. However you met in this distant what-if, Steve knows it would've somehow ended like this; your hand lifted to his hair and stroking wayward patterns, your breath sharp with spearmint. You'd brushed your teeth together over an empty can. Steve misses sharing a bathroom mirror with you hip to hip, but he'll take the small stuff whatever way it's packaged.

"For the record? That was your stupidest question to date." Steve turns his head to you, tarp wrinkling under his ear. "Like, you're the queen of stupid questions, and that one still managed to surprise me. And you once asked me if I thought petroleum jelly had nutritional value."

You flick his eyebrow gently. "I know it was stupid," you say, voice rough from a good cry. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it."

He tugs you in for a forehead kiss, lavishing in the feeling of your skin under his lips. "You believe me, right?"

He pulls away.

"I believe you. I love you. I'm gonna keep my head up, Stevie, s'long as you start telling me when you need me."

He thinks that's a deal he can make. "Deal. Easy."

You grin at him. "Can I squeeze your pimple now?"

"Yes!" He whips into a sitting position. "I've wanted to ask you all day."

"It looks like an ingrown hair."

"I'll have to stop shaving. Maybe I'll grow a beard."

You don't bother sitting up, only beckon him toward you with a raised hand. "That won't be necessary, H. Just let me work my magic…" Your fingernail digs into his chin. "Ew, it's kinda gross."

"Please don't ridicule me."

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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depravitycentral · 9 months

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im sorry if this is a lame ask, but i just had the idea and thought i would share it to see if it would strike any inspo! of course on this blog you’ve talked about all the things our beloved troupe members are into, but have you ever considered what their absolute turn offs are? like things that pull them out of the mood almost immediately? or kinks that would seem to fit certain members, but end up not being their thing for one reason or another

Ooh yes anon this strikes inspo !!

This is a good point - it's all fine and dandy to imagine sex with your yandere as being so bad but so good, as if they know every secret, dirty kink and fantasy you have. (That's because they do know, whether through extensive stalking, pouring through your search histories, or raw, natural sexual chemistry with you. They all think they've got that last one, but normally any positive sexual encounters between the two of you will be a consequence of the former two rather than the latter.)

But of course, everyone has turn offs, and while your yandere would be willing to do pretty much anything to please you, even the most obsessed, unhinged yanderes have a few hard, fast exceptions.

I'm assuming you meant just hxh yanderes for this, so let's proceed moving forward with that in mind! If you meant for another fandom, please let me know and I'd be happy to discuss those yanderes too <3

Let's discuss !!

(Tw for petnames, watersports, recording, anal, pegging, crying, hitting, and other smutty things)

Chrollo Lucilfer is pretty hard to frazzle in bed, and is one of those who have done extensive, eager research into both your own personal sexual preferences, and made educated guesses on kinks that seem to correlate with ones he already knows you possess. That said, Chrollo himself isn't especially risky in bed - he'll indulge you, sure, but he doesn't have a strong desire to try anything especially crazy unless you're a big fan. And while he'll let you have your fun (particularly in the beginning of your sexual relationship, just because promising you that he'll choke you or dominate you or whatever else you may like just to get you into bed with him and somewhat willing, just because he needs to pleasure you and get you warming up to him) , most of the time sex with him is quite vanilla. He's open to listening to whatever you want, with one very, very large exception: there is no amount of pleading or bargaining that will let you peg him. He doesn't inherently believe that men should always be dominant over women, but he does believe that he should always be dominant over you. And if you were to peg him, this power structure would collapse, allowing you too much control over both his pleasure and him. He doesn't mind being in a more physically submissive position (he'll never deny you when you straddle him and tell him that you're in charge for the evening, the only response you get being a twinkle in his eye, a soft smirk and a hummed we will see, my love), but the idea of you fucking him just rubs him the wrong way. He's more vulnerable with you than he is anyone else, but Chrollo has his limits. (Besides, the idea of absolutely falling apart for you is both alluring and terrifying, because the moment you discover his prostate, he'll be a gasping mess, his cheeks tinged a light pink and his grip on the sheets below him very, very tight. It would be embarrassing, and he can't allow you to see him in such a weak position - it would derail all the hard work he's done to convince you that you need him.)

Feitan Portor really detests being called Daddy. He thinks it's weird, and even if you - sweet, perfect, irritatingly attractive you - were to say it, he still wouldn't like it. There's just something about it that rubs him the wrong way - it feels too paternal, and while he doesn't remember having a family in any biological capacity, it still just makes his skin crawl. He won't get soft immediately upon hearing you say it (he's always just slightly hard when you're in his vicinity, so rarely ever is he truly flaccid around you), but he'll need to pull out and take a breather, mentally trying to erase the sound of the petname rolling off your tongue. He can deal with other petnames - he'd be okay with sir, if only because he's always kind of had a thing for roleplaying, or at least having some sort of overarching power dynamic present during sex, and being called sir would place him in a position of absolute authority, meaning he could do whatever he wants to you and you'd just obediently obey. (You already kind of do, too scared to say no to him, but it doesn't feel as authentic - he feels less comfortable, more vulnerable and exposed and raw, and he doesn't like that.) You could even call him master if you really wanted to - similarly, it feeds his desire for playing a powerful, dominant role, but he doesn't have any sort of particularly liking towards maid costumes or anything of the sort, so it wouldn't do too much for him. He's good with nearly anything else you could throw at him, but never Daddy. Frankly, he really just prefers his own, actual name - it just sounds so damn good when you gasp it, the sound going straight to both his cock and heart.

Phinks Magcub's brows always get pinched and his lips quirk down when he thinks about the idea of you bleeding during sex. It makes his hands itch, this protectiveness welling up inside him that makes him antsy and nervous and jittery, the energy all pent up and needing to be released because god, he doesn't like seeing you hurt. Even if it makes you feel good, your moans increasing because of the pain twinged pleasure, he's unwilling to indulge you - he couldn't bring himself to purposefully make you bleed, and while he does occasionally (often) leave you bruised and incredibly sore after having his way with you, that's a whole different thing from seeing that crimson color against your pretty skin. It just makes him uncomfortable - if you asked nicely enough he'd consider maybe lightly slapping you or getting rough with you (though he's already pretty rough when he gets lost in the moment - finger shaped bruises litter your body and hickeys dance along your collarbone and neck), but he'll draw the line at drawing blood. (Similarly, he doesn't really want to bleed himself either, but he'd be more willing to be in the position of pain than putting you into that position of pain. Besides, it might help him last longer, the pleasure warded off by negative stimulation - and god knows Phinks needs all the help he can get in delaying his orgasms.)

Uvogin is pretty adventurous in bed, all things considered, but even he has a few hard turn offs, one of which being degrading you. He doesn't mind calling you needy or possessive terms of endearment, but anything with even a slight negative connotation is always preceded by a 'my', so that when he's calling you a slut it always becomes my slut. Even then, he doesn't like doing this - his natural default when he's naked with you is to be praising you, because those are honestly the thoughts running through his mind when he's got his hands on you and he's feeling your soft skin against his. He genuinely only has good, lustful, reverent things to say about your body and the fact that he's getting to touch, kiss, squeeze, and fuck you, and he's not shy about telling the truth. And so, if you were to request for him to degrade you a bit in bed or be a little meaner, he'll oblige, but it'll feel just slightly forced, his words not holding their usual deep, growling timber that always sends shivers down your spine. He ends up compromising by mixing praise and degradation, but absolutely destroying you with his thrusts and well placed circles on your clit, channeling all the harsh, humiliating energy of verbal degradation instead into how he assaults your body with an overwhelming amount of pleasure. He just doesn't like the idea of lying to you, even if it turns you on in this context, because it just feels wrong to tell you that you're only a hole for me to fuck, and holes don't talk. You're not - you're so much more than that, and he doesn't want you to think otherwise. Hell no, not with all the work he's put into making you get comfortable with him and want him. One roll around on the liviing room floor (he'd gotten impatient and didn't feel like making the thirty step journey to the bedroom) isn't worth reversing months worth of warming you up to him. Not even if you leave his back scratched up or end up so stuffed full of his cum that you're literally leaking.

Nobunaga Hazama is, frankly, just thankful and elated that you're touching him. He's delusional, compeltely out of touch with reality, and fucking weird, but he's also a major sap and literally gets heart eyes everytime he sees you. And so, in the bedroom he wants everything to be as close and sensual as possible, and for every bit of pleasure and love shared between the two of you to be expressed in full. This, of course, includes any and all noises he draws out of you - that is, Nobunaga has to have you gasping and keening and moaning. He's loud himself, and he expects sex to be full of wanton cries and a cacophany of sound; one that you are expected to eagerly contribute to. And if you don't deliver? Well, Nobunaga will just try harder, licking at your faster or thrusting harder or pinching tighter - anything and everything to get you to make a damn sound, to give stop him from having to confront the reality that you aren't enjoying this nearly as much as he is. He gets turned off when you're quiet, which is a real bummer if you aren't naturally loud - you have to be, because he won't quite until you are, even if that takes hours and hours and hours.

Alternatively, Franklin Bordeau can tell when you're faking it, and he doesn't like that. At all. He doesn't want your forced moans or fabricated shaking or anything that isn't real - he wants you, your genuine reactions to his touch, and your genuine personality in bed. He doesn't want you to sound like some pornstar - with your moans constant and high and shrill and more pained than pleasured - for two main reasons, the first of which being that it's just annoying. He's never understood the allure of a woman screaming during sex, and even in the context of actual, real pleasure, it still makes him uncomfortable. It's too close to the sounds he hears when he's working a heist - he doesn't want you to sound like them, because he has no intentions of hurting you and just the mere thought of you bloodied is enough to get him soft immediately and clutching onto you like you'll disappear any moment. The second reason why he doesn't want you to be forcing anything is because although he's decently confident in his sexual abilities, he knows he isn't making you feel that good. He's sure him fingering you isn't capable of getting you gasping and whining his name constantly - sure, it feels good, and you'll probably moan and sigh, but still. When he's fucking you, he's hopeful that you'll cry out his name, but he knows you shouldn't be screaming and rythmically, shrilly moaning. He values honesty, and hearing your real, raw reactions to his touch and his presence feels a thousand times more pleasurable than anything you could ever forcibly manufacture - especially your orgasms. He can always tell when you're faking, so don't try it. Don't.

Honestly, it's pretty difficult to get Shalnark turned off. He's kinky, adventurous, and misinterprets a lot of your responses during sex - he likes to think you're just as wild as he is, and even when you clearly don't like something, he still thinks seeing you struggle is just as arousing. (Besides, most of the time he will get you to orgasm - and seeing the internal dilemma of hating what he's doing alongside the pleasure you can't hold back is absolutely delicious.) That said, there are very specific situations that Shalnark doesn't find any attraction in - specifically, he absolutely is not willing to be cucked. Having another person in the room while he fucks you hard enough to make you cry isn't a problem at all - on the contrary, he's very, very interested in that idea, because having another man watch him claim you makes both his possessiveness and nostrils flare, his palms getting sweaty and his pants feeling tight. Cucking, on the other hand, implies that there's someone else touching you - another person sullying you, getting their disgusting hands on your perfect skin that's all his his his, and that's just simply unacceptable. He didn't go through all that trouble of kidnapping you and keeping you in a secure location just to have you touched, fucked, loved by another man. It doesn't matter if it's a stranger or someone Shalnark trusts with his life - you will not be getting intimate with another soul for the rest of your life, simply because he firmly sees you as his property, and him yours. So don't even bother bringing the idea up - he'll fuck you in front of the stranger, no problem, but they're prohibited to strictly watching. (Or, maybe, they'd be good at helping get those camera angles that are really tough to capture - right up in your face, or right zoomed into where his length - flushed red and swollen - is sinking into you over and over, the home video the perfect thing to watch tonight as he cuddles you to sleep.)

Alternatively, Machi Komacine can't stomach the thought of doing anything public. It's not that she fears getting caught, but rather that it makes her uncomfortable that anyone could see the two of you. Someone could just pass by and happen to get an eyeful of you - your pretty skin and curves, your lovely body that her eyes always seem to get stuck on, watching, wanting, yearning. She's not spontaneous in any way when it comes to sex, and she just doesn't see the allure of the risk or danger involved. She's too possessive; it takes her so long to even allow herself to see you naked, and to have a stranger do that and even see your face while she's pleasuring you, while you're coming? The thought makes her nen flare up, the urge to wrap you in her arms and keep the world from even catching a glimpse of you only growing stronger. Even aside from her possessiveness, the idea of doing something where others could see you makes her nervous, too, because Machi isn't entirely confident in her abilities to actually please you in the bedroom. Sure, she understands female anatomy and has a good sense of what you like from all that stalking, but actually doing it? That's a different thing entirely - and the pressure of pleasing you coupled with the pressure of other people potentially watching her struggle makes her feel uncomfortable, a foreign, heavy sense of self doubt settling heavily in her gut. It's just not for her - sex belongs in the bedroom, or perhaps the couch or kitchen table. Not outside of your 'shared' apartment, and certainly not where someone else could get an eyeful of what's hers.

Pakunoda will still jump on the opportunity to pleasure you and be pleasured, but in general she'll be hesitant if the both of you are still fully clothed. She doesn't see the appeal of clothed sex - she wants you completely bared to her, utterly raw, your body on display for her to worship and touch and mark. She thinks keeping the clothing on is not only impractical, but diminishes the intimacy between the two of you. You'll get all sorts of sticky, hard to clean things staining the clothes, and because she can be a little snobby about materialistic delights like luxury clothing, she's not exactly keen on getting your slick all over her nice clothes. (Although, she wouldn't be entirely opposed to having your slick all over her skin, like you're leaving a mark of possession on her. Just not the clothes.) Clothes stop her from being able to fully explore your body, and, as much as she'd never admit it, when you have your clothing on it makes it much harder to use her nen on you. That is, while it makes her feel a little dirty and slimy, she will be using her ability to dig into your memories for any information on your kinks and fantasies, just because she wants to make sex as perfect and pleasurable for you as she possibly can. So shed the layers with her - it makes things so much better. Plus, the sight of you bare and squirming underneath her, looking all pretty and submissive and cute is certainly a drool worthy sight.

All things considered, Shizuku Murasaki is actually kind of picky about sex. She likes things to be her way or the highway, and as her darling you'll be forced to go along with all of her preferences and wants. And while she loves all things oral, there are a few things she's absolutely unwilling to do. Namely, while she worships you and cherishes you as much as a mass-murderer can, she will not indulge you in anything involving your asshole. It's a cleanliness thing for her; she knows you're clean (she'd just bathed with you this morning and personally hand washed you, paying very, very careful attention to your cunt), but she has a mental block against having her mouth anywhere near that part of you. She's always felt this way with every partner she's had - she just doesn't understand the allure of anal, whether that be fingering, oral, or penetration. She'd much, much rather pay attention to other areas of your body - your pussy, your thighs, your breasts, your mouth. She'll always shy away when she's got her face between your legs, but unfortunately for you, this courtesy does not extend to you too. She doesn't expect you to do anything with her ass, but she certainly won't stop you if you're getting too close, or if you get the desire. She'll just blink at you and tell you to be careful, then pull your head in by your hair and get you closer and closer and closer, enjoying the experience despite herself. Shizuku is a little hypocritical in a lot of aspects in sex, but this is one particular area where she's absolutely unfair.

Hisoka Marrow is a freak in every sense of the word. Genuinely, there is very, very little you could do that would cause him to fall out of the mood, or to rid him of the insistant, raging boner nearly everything you do gives him. He'll try anything once, and he firmly believes in keeping your sex life interesting and varied. That said, he certainly has preferences, and one thing that sits quite low on his list of preferred bedroom activities is to be worshipped. It's not that he doesn't want your attention and praise (he does, urgently), but rather that there's something about the position of being the one drowned in compliments and confessions of love that makes him a little uncomfortable. Perhaps it's because he's not used to being in such a submissive, vulnerable position, or maybe it's because he doesn't feel like he's got enough control of the situation. It doesn't really matter, because Hisoka will always send teasing remarks your way when you get the courage to be the dominant one, and that will almost always derail you enough to get you steering away from any territory that gets dangerously close to becoming too vulnerable and real for him. He loves you in his own twisted, strange way, but he's not ready to open himself up fully to you, to let you take full charge and just take care of him. He may never be ready, really, so any dreams you have of fully dominating him and reducing him to a trembling, fucked out mess will have to remain just that - dreams.

In general, Illumi Zoldyck will try most things you suggest. It's not that he's especially adventurous in the bedroom, but rather that you're the first person he's ever had any sexual contact with, and everything with you feels good, so he wants to try it all. He has very few boundries when it comes to you, and so consequently, there aren't too many things that turn him off. However, he does have two surefire things that he'll immediately and vehemently outright refuse. Firstly, he will absolutely not wear any protection. He turns his nose at the thought of condoms, and will only laugh in your face if you suggest using them for obvious reasons. He will be entering you in the most natural way possible, and he will be finishing as deeply inside of you as he can manage. Secondly, he absolutely will not allow another person to be involved in your sex life. There will be no third person in your bed, no other person for you to be pleasuring and be pleasured by. There is only you and Illumi - it's your sex life, and it makes his possessiveness flare up to dangerous proportions to imagine another person seeing you in such a vulnerable, intimate position. So really, don't even bother bringing up the idea - he won't even consider it, already shooting it down before you're finished getting the sentence out. (And after he finishes lecturing you about how another man or woman has no place in your bed, he'll promptly fuck you right then and there - no matter where you are - just to prove his point. He's all you need, after all.)

Sex with Kurapika Kurta is soft and sensual. It can be a little rougher if he's had a particularly bad day, or if he's recently had a run in with the Troupe, but for the most part he makes love rather than fucks. And because of this, he really, really doesn't like seeing you cry during sex. It makes him uncomfortable, his instincts begging him to comfort you and eliminate whatever caused your tears. He associates crying with the early days of when he'd kidnapped you, back when you were still terrified of him and much too scared to even stand to look at him, much less allow him to touch you. And particularly in the context of sex, he does not want to be reminded of all the horrible things he's done to you - things are good now, happy, and you've finally come around to the idea that he loves you, that you'll spend the rest of your life with him. And so, the moment there are tears beading at your eyes, he's immediately going soft, his palms cupping your cheeks as he stares wildly at you, asking in a rushed, still breathless voice if you're alright, if you're hurt, if you're upset and who he needs to kill to right this wrong. He overreacts, and it always, always turns into either self hatred aimed at himself for ruining your happiness, or a bloodthirsty desire to kill whoever is upsetting you. The only exception to his hatred of you crying is when it's done because you're too overstimulated, the pleasure too much for you to even process. When you're so fucked out from the pleasure he gave you, then the tears are acceptable. He still doesn't like them all that much, but it's at least a sign that he's treating you well, that he's able to make you feel good and pleasured, and it makes pride swell in his chest. So in general, try not to cry in front of him - he goes flaccid in mere seconds, his protective nature ramping up and any semblance of sexiness gone immediately.

When Leorio Paradinight has you in bed, he's almost in a state of utter awe, almost unable to really process what's going on. He's just so incredibly aroused by you, even if you're just laying beside him with your clothes fully on, and because of this he's game to try pretty much anything you want in bed. He's genuinely just so fucking excited to be with you that he'll do basically anything you want, no matter how degrading or gross or off the wall. That said, however, he doesn't really understand the appeal of pet play. He doesn't harbor any fantasies of you donning a set of bunny ears or a tail or anything of the sort, simply because he doesn't really like fantasies that change you, even if it's something as trivial as your ears. He thinks of you as perfection, and that includes every proportion of your body, every freckle, mole, hair and blemish you could have, and he doesn't want to pretend that you aren't exactly who - and what - you are. Besides, he just doesn't see the appeal; he wants you to talk and moan for him when he's touching you, not have you purr or whine or any other animal noise. He thinks it's a little weird, if he's being honest, and while he'll begrudgingly agree if you beg him to try it out (he'll do anything to see you smile, after all), his orgasm won't come as pathetically easily as normal. This extends to pet play where he's the one dressing up as a pet, too - he's more likely to enjoy it this way, but there's something humiliating about the butt plug tail and the fox ears, and it's humiliating in all the wrong ways. He's just not too big of a fan - now if you wanted to get some sort of ownership roleplay going that didn't involve pets or animals, he'd be all over that - the moment you refer to yourself as mommy or his mistress, he's practically creaming his pants, getting on his knees for you and begging for you to touch him. (And maybe even step on him, depending on how needy he's feeling that day.)

Razor, despite sometimes losing control in bed and getting a little rougher than he means to, will never willingly hit you in bed. He doesn't like the idea of slapping you. He might gently pat your ass when you're bouncing on top of him, but it's only just enough to make you yelp, only enough to make a slight smack noise of skin against skin. Hitting you - even in the context of sexual pleasure - reminds him too much of his younger days, back when he was a criminal and was much less controlled, much more dangerous. And really, that's the last thing he wants you to see him as - he wants you to take comfort in him, to want him to hold you and touch you, and he's sure that even if you want him to get rough with you and manhandle you, to smack your cheek and tell you to behave for him, you will start associating him with pain and violence. And he just can't have that - not after all the work he's gone through to prove that despite kidnapping you, he's not the monster you think he is. (Besides, there's just something more meaningful about softer, sweeter sex - he's fucked more women than he'd care to admit, but you're the first one he's gone slow with, the first one he's really taken his time with. And while it might be stupid, that makes you different in his eyes - like he's saved something special for you, like the passionate, romantic side of him that comes out when he's got you naked and stretched out on his fingers is something only you'll ever get to see.)

Another man who tries to keep things a bit vanilla in the bedroom (not for the same reasons as Razor, but rather because he just genuinely prefers more intimate and tame sex) is Knuckle, who can't stand the thought of recording your intimate times. He does objectively think the idea is a bit hot, but he's too worried that somehow the recordings will get leaked, that somehow other people will get their hands on precious recordings of him making love to you, of him making you moan and sigh and fall apart on his tongue and fingers and cock. He views the time you both spend together in the sheets as being almost sacred, like something special that's reserved only for the two of you, and having a camera rolling would just make everything feel too impersonal. It would make him nervous, too, because he'd want to rewatch the tapes with you just so he can see your face the whole time (he tends to lose himself the closer he gets to his orgasm, and always buries his face in your neck to try and make himself last longer, so he misses seeing your facial expressions when he's finishing inside you), but he'd be worried about the way he looks, about whether he looks attractive to you, dominant to you, sexy to you. However, despite his reservations about recording himself fucking you, he will photograph you in the pretty, feminine lingerie he buys for you. He'll get a new color or cut, and have you try on the set, posing for the camera while he takes a few shots, his pants visibly straining around his swollen cock because god, you look good. He'll keep the photographs in his pants pocket and never, ever share them, always looking back at them when he's away on missions and missing you. He's a bit hypocritical, but the moment a camera gets trained on him, he's turning red and clamming up.

Morel is another one who's very flexible in the bedroom, and would be difficult to completely turn off. However, one thing that Morel just simply can't get behind is watersports. He'll try it, if you really beg him to, but he just doesn't like it. It feels unsanitary to him (and god, the mess), but even beyond that it just feels a little degrading, and not in a good way. If you really, really pushed him on it, he'd give in and do as you please, reluctantly forcing himself to release onto you, but the entire time he'd be feeling guilty, discomfort eating at him because isn't it horribly disrespectful to be literally pissing on you? He loves you, and it just sits wrong with him. He'll refuse after that first time, and while he's not particularly into it, if you really, really wanted to, he'd let you reverse the roles. He's not particularly eager to have you wet yourself or piss on him, but that's better because now at least you're the one in the position of power. Plus, you're begrudgingly a little cute when you get all embarrassed about it. But still, it's most definitely not something he desires, and while he'd entertain your fantasies once in a blue moon, it certainly won't be a regular occurrence in your sex life together.

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mysteryshoptls · 7 months

Text

SR Leona Kingscholar - Apprentice Chef Vignette

"Master Chef"

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Leona Version ～ Let’s Make Pannacotta 1～

Ghost Chef: Today, we'll have you make a pannacotta. It's a dessert that's made by hardening milk using gelatin.

Ghost Chef: Dessert required more delicate handling than any other aspect of cooking.

Ghost Chef: There are many ways to make mistakes when making it, including baking it too long, measuring out the ingredients wrong, or even mixing up the order of the ingredients added, so don't let your guard down.

Leona: Yaaaawn…

Ghost Chef: EXCUSE ME, LEONA-KUN!

Leona: Huh?

Ghost Chef: Don't yawn at me like that. Were you listening to my explanation?

Leona: Of course I was. I got pretty good hearing. Basically, all I have to do is follow the recipe and everything'll work out fine, right?

Ghost Chef: I-I mean… That may be… Ahem! Then, I shall go through the recipe.

Ghost Chef: Then first, can you go fetch the ingredients for the pannacotta? You'll need milk, fresh cream, sugar―

Leona: Wait. I'm already taking up your precious time having you teach me how to cook this, having you explain every step is much too gracious.

Leona: If you just hand me the recipe in the beginning here, I'm sure I won't have to bother you too heavily, Chef.

Ghost Chef: Eh, the recipe? Normally we don't give it out right away…

Ghost Chef: But if you're thinking of me that much, I suppose I can give you a spare recipe sheet. Thank you for your kind concern!

Leona: Yeah, sure, thank you, too. Okay, then…

Epel: Um, sorry to interrupt. I would like to grab some of my ingredients out of that fridge.

Leona: Ah, good timing, Epel. Grab my ingredients out of there, too.

Epel: Yes, sir.

Leona: I'll read off the ingredients. I need milk, fresh cream, sugar, powdered gelatin, vanilla beans, and fruit for the garnish.

Epel: First, I'll grab the milk and fresh cream… Are you okay with using apples for your fruit?

Leona: You gotta peel and slice apples, so it's a pain. I'd rather just have something that you can just eat right away…

Ghost Chef: STOP, STOP, WHY ARE YOU ORDERING AROUND EPEL SO CASUALLY!? THIS IS YOUR ASSIGNMENT!

Leona: There's less chance of a mistake if I leave it to the more experienced Epel, right? 'Sides, nowhere does it say that I have to prep my own ingredients.

Ghost Chef: You always have an excuse… This is your assignment, Leona-kun, so you need to work on it yourself and not have others do it!

Ghost Chef: We've had many a student who've tried to cut corners in this course, but this is the first time someone has tried to shove his work onto someone else.

Epel: Ahahah, Leona-san's always like this. I'll leave your milk and fresh cream here.

Ghost Chef: Alright, let's go, we'll start cooking now! AND OF COURSE THAT MEANS YOU, LEONA-KUN! YOU!

Leona: ―This says to throw the pods in with the milk after shelling out the vanilla beans…

Ghost Chef: That's right. Vanilla beans are wonderful on their own, but if you add their pods, the aroma grows richer.

Leona: Huh, then, I'll just leave these pods out, then. You can use them for another dish.

Ghost Chef: I know you just don't want to have to fish them out of the bowl later. I'm picking up on your mannerisms fairly quickly…

Ghost Chef: Turn the heat off right before the milk starts to boil. Keep an eye on the pot and time it well.

Leona: So, I just have to watch the pot. Easy day.

Ghost Chef: Don't get complacent and mess this part up.

Leona: Mess it up, huh. Must be super sensitive if the temperature of the milk can throw off the whole thing.

Ghost Chef: Just so. When it boils, fat and oil rise to the surface, and it releases a very distinctive smell.

Leona: Hmph. It's like I'm taking a potionology class.

Ghost Chef: By the way… You said that you were just taking this class for the credit, but do you have any interest in cooking at all?

Leona: Sorry, but no. I wouldn't have even taken this class if I hadn't heard that one of my precious juniors would be taking it.

Ghost Chef: What a simple response… Well, I know I would be nothing less than happy if you were to gain a little interest in cooking from this venture.

Leona: I'll do my best so as to not upset your expectations.

Ghost Chef: You say that, but your face is screaming that it'll never happen…

Leona: Well, I never wanted to ever cook anything, so.

Leona: The fact that I've never had an issue up to this point in my life means that cooking isn't a skill I really need at all.

Ghost Chef: Hmmm, so you're definitely the type of student that the Headmage was worried for.

Leona: Crowley, worried? …Riiight, that thing he said about living healthy and independently. It's all much ado about nothing.

Leona: Everyone has things they're good at, and bad at. For each person and each job to be efficiently managed, have someone who wants to do it, or can get it done.

Leona: It would be absolutely terrible if everyone got so good at cooking that you were out of a job.

Ghost Chef: Yes, yes… Regardless, I'll need you to do your given tasks properly during this course. To begin with…

Leona: Chef, thousand apologies for interrupting you, but looks like the milk has been warmed up to the right temp.

Leona: It'd be bad for me to mess up here. Can we get to finishing this now?

[Kitchen]

Master Chef ― Leona Version ～ Let’s Make Pannacotta 2～

Ghost Chef: Next, we want to dissolve the gelatin we left soaking in the water.

Leona: Feels like it'd dissolve if we just threw it in the pot like this… What's the point of heating it up separately?

Ghost Chef: The temperature at which the gelatin dissolve is also important to keep an eye on. For this, we'll use a method that's easier for beginners.

Leona: An easier method, hm…

Ghost Chef: Good, good, you're following the recipe well. I'll go and fetch the fruit you'll use to garnish the plate, then.

Leona: …

Ghost Chef: How is it, has the gelatin completely dissolved into liquid?

Leona: Yeah, see?

Ghost Chef: Alright then, add the melted gelatin into the pot. Once it's all mixed, you'll pour it into the mold and wait for it to solidify.

Leona: Finally, it's almost over. Can't believe it takes this much effort to just make one measly dessert…

Ghost Chef: Okay, while we wait for the pannacotta to solidify, let's make a sauce out of the blueberries.

Leona: A sauce? If we add in too many random things, you won't be able to taste the pannacotta.

Leona: Even the recipe only said, "add enough fruit for garnish."

Leona: I'm just gonna choose some toppings that'll bring out the flavor. So, I'll be skipping out on the sauce.

Ghost Chef: I see, I see… Wait, no! I almost went along with it, but you definitely cannot skip the sauce!

[Cafeteria – Judging Venue]

Floyd: Where's the pannacotta I ordered? Isn't this takin' too long?

Floyd: How long does it even take to fix up one dessert? This wouldn't happen at the Mostro Lounge.

Leona: I thought I heard something annoying out here… So, Floyd's my judge.

Floyd: Ohhh? If it isn't Sea Lion-senpai. That outfit… No way, you're actually taking the Master Chef course?

Leona: You have eyes, don't you? Don't ask stupid questions.

Floyd: Huuuh, so I'm about to eat something you made? Is it safe? Didja even make anything edible?

Leona: You're the one that's gotta decide whether it's edible or not. Here, the pannacotta you ordered.

Floyd: Hm? Isn't it a little deformed on the bottom there? …Meh, whatever. I'ma dig in.

[bite, chew, chew…]

Floyd: HUH? WHAT'S THIS SUPPOSED TO BE?

Floyd: THE TEXTURE'S TERRIBLE. THIS IS HILARIOUS! TOTALLY FELT WEIRD AS SOON AS THE SPOON SLID INTO IT, TOO.

Floyd: All's you gotta do to make a pannacotta is mix all the ingredients in and harden it. How can anyone screw it up this badly?

Leona: …

Ghost Chef: Ummm… Well, actually…

―While cooking

Leona: I was wondering what kinda frustrating fiddlin' I'd have to do here, since there's something about wattage and the number of seconds, or whatever, but…

Leona: There's this handy button labeled "Auto" here.

Leona: That probably means that if I press this, then it'll determine the perfect power and heat time.

[clack! beep! vrrraaaah...]

Leona: …'Kay, good enough.

Ghost Chef: ―So, when he used the automatic function, it looks like he overcooked the gelatin…

Floyd: SEA LION-SENPAI, YOU TELLIN' ME YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO USE A MICROWAVE OVEN!?

Floyd: You only use auto when you wanna heat up a dish, not get the gelatin dissolved into a perfect consistency.

Floyd: THAT JUST MAKES THIS SCREW UP EVEN BETTER～～!

Leona: Tch… Stop laughing like an idiot. You think it's that funny? Huh?

Floyd: Yuuup, it's way too funny. I thought all you people on land could use a microwave.

Leona: …Ruggie said something like that before, too. Something about "even kids know how to use them," and "it's just common sense."

Leona: Back home and here on campus, we have chefs that present hot meals every day.

Leona: That's the life I've always had. So, you can imagine that I've never had the chance to use a microwave, don't you think?

Floyd: Haha, what, are ya making excuses now? You should just admit when you can't do something like a good boy.

Ghost Chef: Well, Leona-kun was very skillful and quick on his feet.

Ghost Chef: I'm sure he'll take this failure in stride and be able to use the microwave properly next time. Right, Leona-kun?

Leona: Right… Just as you say, chef.

Leona: This is a prime opportunity for me, so I would absolutely appreciate a deeper focus on learning how to use a microwave for the rest of this course.

Requested by @dida-books.

#twisted wonderland #twst #leona kingscholar #floyd leech #epel felmier #twst leona #twst floyd #twst epel #twst translation #twst masterchef #mention: ruggie

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petalsscribbles · 23 days

Text

20. confession (final)

Yn can't fight the ugly emotions off. The doubts, jealousy, heartbreak at the thought of Heeseung leaving him for someone else. For someone better.

His clock ticks on the white wall as he waits in his room for Heeseung. He tries to act okay, to savour every last moment of Heeseung's affection he can before he ultimately gives it to another. But he feels like a ticking bomb. How long can he put his facade up? How long can he pretened before he breaks?

Well, turns out it only took next 20 minutes for him to explode.

Heeseung finally arrives and Yn lets him in. He raises the plastic bags in his hands. Fried chicken and beer. He kisses his cheek as he always does and asks about his day. Yn lies that it was fine, as if he wasn't stalked by the shadow of his own lack of confidence. In himself and in Heeseung's affection towards him.

"So, what do you wanna watch this time?" Heeseung asks.

"I picked last time. It's your turn." Yn answers.

"I know, but I'd rather watch something you want." He smiles and Yn breaks. He can't do this anymore. The gentleness, love, he can't handle it anymore knowing it's going to be teared away from his grasp.

"Heeseung, I think we should go back to being friends. Normal friends." Yn states decidedly. Heeseung's smile falls and his eyes widen in shock. He only needs to take two steps to reach Yn and grabs his arms as soon as he does.

"Wha-what are you talking about? Why do you want-" His eyes are desperately searching Yn's, trying to figure out where is all this coming from, if this is some kind of sick joke.

Yn shakes off Heeseung's hold and takes a step back.

"I'm not an idiot, Heeseung. I know you're planning to leave me soon."

"I'm not! Why would you even think that?" Heeseung defends.

"You've changed Heeseung. You got into therapy, stopped smoking and so much more. Possibly other things I don't even know of. You're obviously trying to impress someone and honestly it's fucked up that you keep messing around with me while you like someone else." Yn argues, trying hard to keep his voice steady and eyes tearless.

"Yn you got it all wrong!" Heeseung says, once again invading Yn's space. Yn takes a step back. This repeats twice until Yn's back hits his door and he has no choice but to listen to Heeseung's pleas.

Heeseung cups Yn's cheek with his left hand, making sure he can't look away while the other rests on his shoulder.

"You're the one I like." He whispers and Yn's jaw might as well hit the floor with how shocked he is. Heeseung uses his speechlessness to continue. "When you first hung out with Soobin, I was jealous out of my mind. I realized how perfect he is for you. You should be with someone like him, but the thing is, I'd rather die than let anyone else have you. So, instead of lashing out or giving you up, I decided to be the man you deserve."

Yn's mind is in shambles, unable to form a single coherent thought. The only thing is Heeseung's words echoing in his head.

You're the one I like.

Heeseung sighs and rests his forehead on Yn's.

"This isn't how I wanted this to go. I had a whole romantic confession prepared with gifts and written speech and stuff."

Yn can't fight off a laugh bubbling from his throat. He's not sure what's so funny - his own stupidity, Heeseung's sudden confession or just the whole situation in general. Either way, he's happy.

"Heeseung, I don't need you to be perfect. To be honest, all I ever wanted was a tall, reasonable guy that doesn't use Axe products and knows how to parallel park." Yn starts and it's Heeseung's turn to laugh. "You shouldn't go back to smoking and you definitely should keep going to therapy but other than that, just be the perverted hooligan i fell for."

"Alright." Heeseung agrees and kisses Yn. "So we're boyfriends now?"

"Yeah we are."

Yn's friends are going to lose their shit when he tells them about this, but for now he's just going to enjoy Heeseung's warmth.

a/n: Welp, that's a wrap on Bad Habits. I hope you had fun reading as much as I had making it. Thank you for all the comments, likes and reblogs and I'm sorry if you think it's too short. As you already know, I have another enhypen smau in mind (so far it looks like it's gonna be Jay) but I'm gonna take a little break first.

I hope this little silly fic made you laugh and that you might come back to it on a shitty day :3

Until next time <3

taglist CLOSED

taglist: @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @bubblztaro @monstaxpuppy @xavi-in-kpopland @starchasing-cryptid @hwalleluja @pinxeajin

prev masterlist next

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen x male reader #heeseung smau #heeseung x male reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung x yn #enhypen x reader #lee heeseung

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yanderes-galore · 2 months

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Can I request for Shang tsung with a daughter reader in mk1 before and after he learns better sorcery and can it be a one shot please

I haven't finished watching the cutscenes for Mortal Kombat 1, so I will make this a bit vague if that's fine? ^^ I had trouble with the plot so this is what I've got. Not fully proofread, may have mistakes.

Conjure Something Better

Yandere! Shang Tsung with Daughter! Darling Short

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Guilt tripping, Minor violence, Angst, Darling's mother is unknown, Imprisonment, Forced companionship.

"I don't understand why you cast me away... I took the offer to help us both." Shang Tsung huffs towards you, seeing your gaze refuse to meet his own. In his eyes... he's helping his daughter.

Yet she acts like it isn't enough.

"We had no money before, no power, nothing." Shang Tsung, your father, circles around you to try and face your gaze. "You have no mother... just me! I'm putting in the effort to take care of you!"

You try to continue ignoring him but he grips your chin.

"If I never took that deal to get better magic... I'd still be selling snake oil to peasants. How was I supposed to support you then?" Shang Tsung hisses before moving his grip to hug you.

"But was this the right way?" You whisper softly. "You've used so many people... you're around so many dangerous people, father!"

"Not a person I speak to will touch a hair on your head while I'm here, I'll break them if they do." Your father threats, pulling you closer. "As for using others... it's what must happen to survive, dear!"

Shang Tsung notices his daughter still isn't impressed. He should've known, always the kindest with people while her father uses them. Of course she wouldn't totally be on board.

Shang Tsung's daughter moves in his grip but he doesn't plan on letting go. He sighs as she glares at him. He tries to help her... yet she still wishes to be a rebel.

"So you would rather go back to what we had before?" Shang Tsung scoffs as you push him away. "I can make you my little princess with this power, sweetheart!"

"I just miss mother, we were fine when she was still around." You huff, causing Shang Tsung's eye to twitch

"Your mother LEFT us. She's GONE!" Shang Tsung growls.

"All because of you!" You retort.

"Well now all you have is me!" Shang Tsung shoots back. "I don't plan on letting you change that. You're going to be beside me... we do not need that-"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" You cut off your father, glaring at him. "I was happy with her!"

"But she can't provide for you as much as me now..." Shang Tsung continues. "I could give you the world, my dear... but you reject me."

"I don't need you." You hiss, catching Shang Tsung off guard. "I refuse to take part in any of this."

You turn away but your father cuts you off, teleporting in front of you before grabbing your arm. Fear flickers in your eyes as he grins devilishly at you.

"You don't need me?" Shang Tsung hums. "I doubt that, dear. Even if it was true, I'm not letting you go... ever."

He can tell you want to challenge him on that, so he shrugs.

"If you won't listen willingly... I'll make you."

You want to question him... but before you know it you're now standing in front of a prison. You look at him fearfully before he pushes you into a cell. He ignores your attempts to rectify your rebellion and locks the cell.

"Your mother thought she was smart when taking you away from me." Shang Tsung huffs, leaning against the cell door to see the tears in your eyes.

"Let's be honest, sweetheart... you'd be dead if I never took this deal. Call me the bad guy all you want... but..."

Shang Tsung smiles softly at you, but you see a certain obsessive glint in his eyes. He doesn't care if you're upset. He just wants to keep you to himself.

"Your father knows best, I'll take care of you even if you hate me for it."

#yandere mortal kombat #yandere mortal kombat 1 #yandere shang tsung #platonic yandere

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iisasarcasticlittleshite · 7 months

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hey I'm not sure how asking works because it's the second time I do it and so sorry. My request would be an mc with like strict or toxic parents where they don't like to be hugged and stuff because their parents would demand hugsand get mad when not getting them and I'd like to see how the brothers react, if they respect their boundaries and stuff. I'm trans ftm but I'd wrather it being written in gender neutral so anyone who identifies with the situation can be comfortable enough

No need to apologise! I'll do my best for ya, Anon!

You'd vocalised your boundaries to Mammon first, you spent the most time with him so it was only natural, and he became your advocate.

Anyone who came close to threatening those boundaries, any time you looked even remotely uncomfortable, he was there, pushing people away, telling them to ask before laying their mits all over his human.

Of course, his brothers catch on quick.

It was Asmodeus who worried you the most at first. The Avatar of lust was rather...free with his physical affections, but he's also extremely empathetic, and the second he felt you freeze up in a panic response when he hugged you, he pulled away and started asking what he'd done wrong.

He's painfully patient, kind and supports whatever it is you want to do. If you want to explore any kind of physical contact with him, he waits for your que, say the word, and he's backing off and reverting to face masks and painting your nails.

The twins want nothing but to see you happy and comfortable. They push their beds together for movie nights so that you can have your own space. A nest, as you call it, blankets, pillows, Beel's shirt, Belphie's favourite plushy, things that smell like them.

They are still demons after all, it's their instinct to make it known that you're theirs.

Lucifer has no issue accommodating your boundaries, not because he doesn't want to hold you, but because he values time spend with you so much that he doesn't see the lack of physical affection as anything major at all.

You two sit in his office together, doing work or listening to music, just...existing in each other's presence.

Say the word, and he'll make sure any member of your family who's done you wrong never lays eyes on you ever again.

Say that word to Satan, and the Avatar of Wrath may get himself banned from the Human world for a good long while.

Satan is furious in your name, but that rage has never once overflowed to you and your boundaries. He encourages you to set them, introduces you to experts in mental health and recommends books on the subject. More than anything, he reminds you that you are not alone.

He himself sometimes struggles to just...accept affection, not for the same reasons, but he understands better than most.

Leviathan didn't know what to do with himself at first. I mean, it's not as if he was bold enough to just lay hands on you without permission, and he can't imagine why anyone would ever force that upon you.

He became quietly protective. Between he and Mammon no unwanted demon could ever get within arm's reach of you. No one touches his Henry without their say so. The Otaku prince even stood up to Barbatos once when the butler unwittingly crossed a line!

Levi almost combusted doing it-but he did it for you so it's fine!

The road to healing is different for everyone, but within the House of Lamentation, with the company of those brothers, your personal boundaries are law, pacts or no pacts.

#obey me asks #obey me x mc #obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #levi x mc #satan x mc #asmo x mc #beel x mc #belphie x mc

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arashikohedervary · 2 months

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I cannot express in words how much I love the crew in Our Flag Means Death. I adore how much personality they all have even tough they are stuck in the "background character" group. I would honestly watch it if any of them would have their own spin-off. I mean, I like Ed and Stede just fine, but look at these babies!!!

Frenchie: Oh, don't get me started on Frenchie, I adore the man. He's the literal impersonation of 'looks like a cinammon roll, could kill you'. My man is a DnD bard who invented pyramid schemes *and* fanfictions. Plus he may be the genius of his age while still believing in witches and crystals.

Wee John: Roomies! Man, how much more I'd like to see of this beautiful Drag Queen. Long live Calypso! And how much I whish to know if he sews his own drag clothes.🤔

Black Pete: It's not healthy how much I'm invested in "Blackbeard's most trusted man". He thinks he needs to create cool stories to get the others to like him, but he's actually very soft and caring. I mean, have you seen the finger he gave to Lucius? He's an angel.

Lucius: If it weren't from Ori from the Hobbit movies, he'd be my favorite scribe of all times. My man is underpaid for all the realitionship drama he has to listen to and his bonus consisted of getting thrown off the ship (which is, like, rude). Also, he can pickpocket Spanish Jackie???? Hi, yes, I'd like to order a backstory, possibly 20 hours long, please.

Buttons: Oh gosh, the Sea Witch. I'm in need of much more explanation and screen time dear writers. And he straight up talks to animals and curses people? Aunty took one look at him and went: "Yapp, that's the Sea Witch". I wonder how Frenchie haven't declared him an evil witch yet.

Roach: My man is a maniac cook whose also the medic just in case. He's half crazy and I couldn't thank him more for it. He also let's Stede request orange cakes from him which is just very sweet overall. Bro also invented peanut butter (like we wouldn't notice it), then fed it to an allergic person, then blamed it on a curse.

the Swede: It's most certainly not fair how well written he is for him to be standing in the background. He has the voice of an angel, please! He might not be the smartest person in the room, but he fucks like a jackhammer, I mean he became hot. That's something.

Jim: Oh, sometimes I cannot comprehend how great Jim is. They're mute, then a mermaid, then neither, 'cause they're just Jim! They're exactly the kinda person to give up revenge for 'not feeling the vibe' anymore. They also would kill anyone who hurts their crewfamily without batting an eye.

Oluwande: Don't even get me started on this beautiful, lovely teddy bear. He's the best hearted, but still serious and trustful of all. He literally gets along with everyone and we need so much people like him. Today's message is to be more like Olu!

Thank you for listening to my Ted-talk, don't worry, the 'why I love Izzy' will be a separate post will be, I couldn't fit him here.

Plus stuff I want to mention that this isn't directed against the writers, I know there were more than one problems with the founding of the second season. Rather, this is a compliment for all the hard work for these *excellent* characters! xx

#our flag means death #ofmd #crew of the revenge #frenchie #wee john feeney #lucius spriggs #the swede #jim jimenez #oluwande boodhari #ofmd roach #ofmd black pete #ranting #I'm so sad they got so little screen time in the second season #they have so much potential

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littlelesbinonny · 4 months

Text

The Devil's Den

Chapter 41: In Which The Daylight Is Dawning Pt. 2

You can read this also on Ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Donna was frozen in place. She knew Karl was still holding onto her but she couldn't comprehend it. All she could see was the trail of blood on the ground where Alcina had been drug to her fate. Every single event was replaying slow motion over and over again in her brain. She had been so lost in thought she hadn't noticed everyone filing out of the hall and back into the city, leaving the few who were brave enough to show their remaining loyalty to Alcina lingering just as still and silent as she was.

"D - "

A voice said in her ear.

"D! You gotta snap out of it - D."

Her dark brown eyes on the verge of spilling tears finally looked over to find Karl, his face just as riddled with grief but definitely more rage than she had ever seen.

"I..." she mustered, "we - the - we -"

Donna couldn't even form a coherent sentence, she was too overcome with shock she brought her palms up and buried her face. Karl's warm, secure embrace was quite literally the only thing holding her together.

Without Alcina, their fight was over. No one would unite without her. None of the pitiful fucking vampires would act on their own! Her only hope was the lycans, who would be gnashing to fight, she had no doubt. The underworlds only hope now was the lycans. And that was fine with her. But they had to do something and they had to do it fast. She had to snap out of it!

She broke away from Karl momentarily and was about to whisper her hasty plan to him, but that chilling presence she hated now more than ever invaded her space.

"Donna, my dear!" Came Miranda's cool voice, "I have some pressing business that needs attending to, but I will send for you later as we have much to discuss," she smiled, "and Karl, I will require your time here very shortly as well - and try not to get into any trouble in the meantime. My soldiers have direct orders to destroy anyone who steps out of line... you've seen the damage they do. Please don't be stupid. I'd rather not lose either of you to fruitless defiance."

Karl lunged for Miranda but Donna haphazardly clambered herself nearly onto him to stop his assault as she walked away so annoyingly nonchalant.

"Don't be an idiot!" she hissed through a hushed whisper in his ear, "your shop - now!"

Everyone of key importance had gathered in Karl's work space: Donna, Karl himself, Dmitri, Angie, Sylvia, Mitch, Diego, Gerard, Mateo, Elina, and shockingly, Clarice from the council.

"Keep your voice down!" Donna huffed.

"I don't give a fuck what they can hear! I'm about to start poppin' bullets in every single one of their skulls!" Karl raged, pulling a new and very decently sized revolver out of his underarm and aiming it to the mutants on the other side of the thick glass, "I'll blow the underground to kingdom-fucking-come before I let this bitch take this place!" Donna forced his arm down and grabbed the collar of his dirty, beat-up, oversized khaki colored trench coat, "will you keep your shit together! We have one fucking shot at this and we can't afford your hot-headed, bull-skulled, idiotic temper to ruin it for everyone! Alcina needs our help! We have to be smart about this!"

Angie popped a blood lollypop out of her mouth loudly and hopped her butt onto the table, shoving it right back in her cheek before reaching for Karl, "listen, my man, I've been watching these weirdos for weeks; they are brutally strong but they are fuckin' DUMB. I'm not sure what operates them but I swear to god it's not the brain in their heads. They're very easily distracted and drawn apart when psycho-whacko isn't present. The sunrise is barely hours away, we need a calculated diversion, lots of 'em - you know, bombs and stuff - and a quick moving team and we can get Alcina and her girls out with no issue at all. But that's only if Mother Fuckface isn't near."

"There's the biggest issue; Mother Miranda." Dmitri stated, his usually calm and vivid demeanor very visibly shaken by witnessing what everyone else did.

"Yeah - that -" Angie chimed back in, "she's really the messiest dingleberry. I dunno what to tell you about that one. Sheer force won't do jack shit to her with all these mutants around. She's their HBIC - it's like she thinks it and they do it - very disturbing."

"HBIC?" Clarice piped up very confused.

"Head bitch in charge." Angie clarified.

Donna huffed and rubbed her temples aggravatedly, "alright - heads down - focus! We have very little time, we've got to move quickly."

You felt like you were under a boulder.

It wasn't terribly bright where you were but it took all of your effort to force your eyelids open.

The room was decently sized, wide open, the lights were dull and a light ochre color. It smelled slightly sterile but also metallic the way dried blood did. The walls were lined with shelves and storage lockers, weird glass globes and vials that made you feel like you were caught in a mad scientist movie. It was also full of all kinds of medical looking equipment, and in that instant everything that had taken place rushed back in, including that cunts words; take her to the lab, NOW!

So. This was it.

You were strangely alone. You thought that was probably not the smartest move, but then again you felt like you'd been hit by a bus. There was barely enough energy coursing through you to breath without labor.

What the fuck was around your neck and wrists? They had to be the reason for this feeling.

Using all your might, you tried to lean forward in the reclined chair you were clearly bound to to see if you could make out the heavy cuffs.

It was a dark grey material, a metal of sorts maybe? It appeared polished and looked kind of shiny, but it wasn't glowing the way Alcina's had been.

The unlatching of a door to the right of you caught you off guard and your head snapped in that direction, a bad move as the room started to spin.

"Iron."

Came that sickening voice.

"The best raw iron one can find," Mother Miranda continued as she waltzed happily towards you, "the only real weakness to a fae like you."

...Fae?

What?

You were finally able to get a good close look at the living terror you had envisioned killing many times before, the rage you felt twisting your lips and face into a scowl that made Miranda smirk. She might be a pretty thing if she weren't such an awful waste of air. To you she was ugly, hideous even, wearing the pain she'd caused your Alcina like a badge of honor and it made your magick spark.

"I had hoped to meet under better circumstances, but Alcina never would have allowed that to happen..."

Miranda placed her hand on your upper arm and it burned. Whether or not that was your imagination reacting out of pure spite for her or an actual sensation you weren't really sure.

"She's very possessive, you see. She would have never shared you with me willingly."

Her smile made you want to explode.

"Though her appetite for strong blood has always been her weakness, and her strength. I could always count on her to find the most delicious humans. Granted, Madeleine was a sorry loss, truly, which I'm sure she told you all about her, and what I did... villainize me all you want, little fae, but I did what was best for her in the end."

You wanted to scream more than anything, break free and grab her face and gouge out her eyes, but you were locked in a prison of hatred that rendered you still and silent while you bickered with your inner thoughts trying to stay on top of your reactions. Then Malka's voice sounded in your ear; telling you to remain calm, to use the situation to your benefit, to store the emotions brewing inside of you because they would come in handy. So you remained quiet, letting her drawl making you angrier and angrier.

"Madeleine came from a long line of witches, I'll have you know," Miranda continued as she walked around the chair you were strapped to, heading to the side table that had a large syringe and several long vials, "but she had strayed from that path, as did her mother before her, so her blood would have been no use to me in the long run. It was too weak, her power was too weak, but it made her irresistible to our dearest Alcina."

Watching as she grabbed for the syringe, you swallowed and eyed her like a hawk, gritting and grinding your teeth with what strength you had.

"I knew what I put her through would wane her from seeking anything less than the most powerful blood until the right time came. I had no idea it would be this soon. I figured a century may pass perhaps, but here you came along... a most pleasant surprise. I thought your kind had long been lost."

Curiosity was hard to deny. You'd been searching for answers your whole life. Now you had to ask.

"What exactly are... my kind?"

Miranda's eyes gleamed, "I told you; you're a fae! Now which kind I'm not totally certain. Fae folk in the human world are the rarest, which makes you the most desirable! A fae in the olde world is too impossible to catch. They're too strong, too flighty, too unusable. But you! Your blood is some of the oldest I've ever had the privilege to come across. I'll truly enjoy my search to find your lineage, if I can, because your blood will be the striking force to begin our journey into this new age!"

Syringe in hand, Miranda darted back to your side and examined you with fever in her eyes, her delicate fingertip tracing your face that came with a sensation of you wanting to rip yourself out of your skin.

"You will be everything I need for my new species of vampire. Your blood will make me stronger than any that have ever walked this earth before, and my children, the new breed that I will introduce, will be the perfection I have so long since desired."

You had to bite your lip as her twinkling blue eyes made your skin prickle. Keeping your head about you to continue to store this rage deep inside of you, in a nest in your core for your chance to strike was getting harder.

"The army that follows me now are less than what I desired. They are controllable, but... albeit a failed experiment. Yes, they are brutishly strong, and purely loyal to me, but... they have no mind of their own, a downside to the parasite I bred. But! It was a good start!" She grinned, "When I mutate your blood along with my parasites I hope to weed out the rest of the weaknesses that make us fallible - there will be no desire but to be beautiful and powerful. To follow me. And only me. To deny love for any, but me. To go with me to whatever end I desire... to never repeat the same mistakes I face, over and over..."

Her eyes went vacant as she stared off at the wall behind your head, the forest of thoughts she'd just gotten lost in seeming to lead her down a foggy path that blinked your existence out of the picture, and yet she kept talking.

"It was a dream my daughter and I had..." her voice dwindled to a more somber tone, "she had been so young. Twelve years old. Too young to be what she became. The years passed, and we do not change physically of course, and it becomes hard for one so young to bare the burdens of the world, to watch everything change around you when you do not when you should... Eva... my darling... she wanted to change. She wanted to change so much, but I... was able to give her everything her heart desired, but that..."

Your eyes were transfixed on this woman. Alcina told you she had never told a soul what had happened to her daughter, that everything the vampires knew about it was purely speculation, and yet here she was spilling it to you like you were a guard at the gates of heaven or hell, and she must tell her tale before she passes.

"Her beauty was unmatched. An angel, really. A young but vicious killer that gave my soul so much joy. My only absolution to the life we had no choice but to dwell within. And we... oh, we had such plans! Such visions we would share and collaborate - the future of our kind - the path we could lead - the power and control we could have! There was a future we so desired to live back amongst the humans as one! To be feared and loved and worshipped as the greater species we are! Untouched by time... illness... every little thing that defeated humans at the drop of a hat..."

Miranda looked back down at you as she seemed to come back into herself, her palm caressing your face as she sunk her sight into you, and you stilled, held your breath out of what emotion you weren't sure.

"But... we aren't as perfect as we should be. There is one, only one, illness that is our downfall. It ruins everything... every plan, ever desire, every need behind a motivation - it can be thwarted by the worst of all illnesses... do you know what that illness, that weakness is, little fae?"

You shook your head very carefully, the wild look behind her eyes making you uneasy.

"Love," she whispered, leaning into your face, "love, little fae... the worst ailment any living creature can endure! It... ruins everything!"

Miranda leaned back up and stepped away from you with haste, pacing manically as she continued her bizarre rant.

"It took my Eva!" She nearly shrieked, "it took her from me!" Her wild eyes went back to you as she walked back and forth across the floor, "she fell from me! Away from me! Abandoned me and our plans! Everything we were working towards - she left it all behind - dropped it like it had never meant anything, all because - all because - this - this boy! A human! A human boy she could never coexist with! She was stricken down by this folly and I lost her to it, to him!"

She was growing more and more fitful and you were trying very hard to not fear for your safety. Miranda was a loaded loose cannon, that was all too apparent.

"I - I had no choice. I had no choice, little fae. For our own betterment, for hers, I had to cure her. I had to end it. How could I possibly let this infection of love for a human taint my bloodline?! Humans would be our end! She knew this, she knew, and yet she gave in. She bowed to this weakness. And I... my reign, my dynasty, could not be tarnished. We were too far into our plan to stray. I couldn't allow it. I couldn't... and so I had to kill her, don't you see?"

She was out of her fucking mind. Absolutely mad.

"But... time marched on. I marched on. I never abandoned our plans, our hope, our desire for our kinds future. I had to abide my time. Calculate. Measure. Collect. Create. Watch. And plan. Plan, plan, plan, until the time was right."

Once more she turned to you and came to your side with a face full of psychotic hope.

"And here you are - my beacon of light! The turn of my tides! We will be great together. We will create such a dynasty that will rule this world for the rest of time, it will be marvelous! You... and me... we will change the course of the worlds future."

The fuck WE will.

You had to keep calm. You had to.

You were facing a deranged vampire who was old and powerful, but you would fight tooth and nail to make sure this plan of hers never saw the light of day. Pun intended.

Swallowing carefully, you tested the deep water you were in for your own benefit, you needed information, and more catalyst to your stash of emotion, "what have you done with Alcina?"

Mother Miranda's visage took a deep dive from hope to scrutiny, "what does it matter? She is a lost cause, as all of the vampires I have placed my hopes in have been."

"If you want my help, which I will give you, I simply ask in return that you tell me what you've done with her."

Rising slowly away from you, Miranda went back to the small table and retrieved a vial, with it and the syringe in hand, she returned and eyed you flatly, "she and her daughters will die by sunlight. I sealed them in the sun towers to burn."

There it was.

Oh that fire began to burn brightly. Now all you needed was your window of opportunity.

"You offer your alliance so willingly, I had not expected that little fae," Miranda mused as she looked down at you, calculating your words, "why?"

Fighting down your rage you locked your eyes in hers and forced a small smile, "you give me little choice. I would rather go willingly than fight you."

Her hardened facade broke into a faint grin.

Was it that easy?

"I somehow knew I was going to like you. Fae are usually very feisty and yet you are so malleable - you are wise beyond your years! Or, perhaps, the human world has beaten you down enough to make you this compliant... either way... we really will be a great team together."

She stroked your face once more that made your insides lurch, but you held your tongue and waited less than patiently.

"Still... you will have to fully earn my trust in time. Now, hold still, I need to fill these vials so I can begin my research."

Mother Miranda reached for the heavy iron collar around your neck and snapped the latch open, pulled it from your throat and you felt the overpowering flood of everything you had been holding onto slam into you.

Show time.

All you saw was red. Rage. Alcina, on her knees and bleeding at the mercy of the woman in front of you. The shallowing of your breath was accompanied with the narrowing of your space; the honing in on everything you felt; the numb, surging, overflowing power of your need for revenge for what she'd done to Alcina, and what she had in store for the woman you loved so deeply. You couldn't fathom the future she spoke of, the terror she would instill, and you would be damned before you, or your Alcina, became the played pawns in the start of this chess match. Miranda would pay dearly. You would make certain of it.

It was hot, prickly. Seething to be released.

You harnessed your magick with all of your might; the gnashing, howling hunger to lash out giving you only a brief pause before you let it off its leash at your intended target.

The heat of this explosion of magick was so strong you felt like you could touch it. It permeated off you and hit Miranda with an invisible choking cloud.

She stumbled back, dropping her tools to the floor with a clatter as a sputtering scream began to emerge from her throat. Her hands reached for her eyes with a shaking intensity as she screamed louder and louder, her knees threatening to buckle as you forced every ounce of your hatred through her. It wasn't long before you saw trails of blood pouring down her cheeks from her eyes before she all but fell into the table, knocking it over, the glass vials shattering on impact to the floor as she struggled to get as far away from you as possible.

Miranda tumbled through the door from which she came and you jerked on your wrists with might. The iron split around your wrists without struggle and you were free. Nauseatingly light headed you headed for the door opposite of where Mother Miranda had fled and dashed as fast as your wobbly legs would take you.

The further you got into the ways of the city the more and more powerful you felt, almost like you had to collect your power back before you yourself burst. Finally, against your will, you slammed into a wall and took heavy breath after heavy breath, looking down at your open palms that felt like they were on fire. Things were beginning to spin less and less and now you could hear yelling and screaming, howling, gun shots, and what you were pretty certain were explosions.

My hell, you were underground in the middle of a real war.

Out of the blue you heard your name behind you.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, please let this not be real. You weren't entirely sure enough on your feet yet to run.

Hesitantly you looked over your shoulder and found a face coming at you that allowed you to relax.

"Angie," you huffed, still relying on the wall for support.

"Ho - ly shit! You escaped?!"

You nodded a little disjunct and let the familiar vampire grab hold of you, "y-yeah - Miranda - "

"Ooo shit, fuck fuck - c'mon lets get outta here!"

She scooped you up like you were just a stuffed doll and dashed down the hallway, turning here and turning there, the labyrinth of this place making you so confused you stopped trying to keep track of your surroundings until you were being set down in a dark corner of a room with several other people.

"She escaped Miranda!" Angie shouted.

Three more sets of eyes landed on you, one you recognized; Donna.

"What?!"

The burliest of them asked as he shot around from behind Donna to get a good look at you.

"I'll be fucked! Little human's got gumption! How, though?!"

"I - I'm a fae," you answered very unsure of yourself. You weren't entirely sure if that Miranda bitch was right, but somehow it made sense.

The pause made you uneasy as they all looked at you as if you'd grown a second head in the last five seconds.

"I have magick," you tried again, "I attacked her, but I don't know how much damage I did."

Donna placed her hand on her shoulder in a very comforting way, her smile was warm but it didn't last long.

"You may have bought us a large window of opportunity, my dear, thank you," she offered, "are you alright, did she harm you?"

"N-no, no she didn't hurt me - I'm ok. Where's Alcina?" you blurted.

"The Eastern sun tower, that's where we're headed now."

Said the very handsome man with the most strikingly white hair and Russian accent.

"This is Dmitri, and this is Karl," Donna relayed with haste, "and the one who brought you, this is Angie, my sister."

"Yeah, we've met before," you responded with a smile at the blonde.

Donna halted grabbing for the bag she was fuddling with, "what?"

Angie jumped in immediately, "mmmyeah, about that; that's a story for another time, we really gotta get going. The sun rose three hours ago, our time slot to rescue is cutting way too short."

"Let's go then," you butted in, feeling much more like yourself which was a great relief.

"No, no," Donna warned, "this is no place for you, dear, I don't want to risk your safety."

"Did you not hear what she just said?" Karl interjected, "little pixie dust handed Miranda's ass to her - she's comin'! We want this little magickal hot shot with us."

"We really don't have time to argue, let's go!"

Dmitri was the final say.

The rest of the way wasn't completely barren of mutants, but they seemed oddly discombobulated and killing them was easier than it should've been.

The radio comms worn by Karl and Dmitri were going off the entire way. From what you gathered, the lycans and vampire soldiers were executing well calculated and stealthy attacks through the city, confirming your suspicions of hearing explosion earlier, which, fittingly enough continued as the three of you made your way to what was referred to as the Eastern Quarter, where the Eastern sun towers resided.

You were privileged front row seats to watching how vampires and lycans fought. Well, Karl at least. He was manic and hasty, although swift and effective with knives and a very large gun that made easy work of skulls. There was little left remaining after the blasts but an eerie blue glowing substance that oozed from whatever body part had been obliterated. The vampires were elegant and ruthless. They preferred blades above all else and Donna, though small, was terrifyingly agile and precise in the way she killed. Angie was a lot like Karl; pure mania. Dmitri, almost robotic; blunt and brutal.

Luckily you didn't have to go up against any mutants, you were far too preoccupied with familiarizing yourself with your surroundings and getting to Alcina as quickly as possible.

A sharp turn and a steep decline on damp stone stairs led you all to your destination.

It was eerily silent here and it made everything more dire. There were slots in the low ceiling where it met the stone wall that allowed, what you assumed to be, sunlight in. Safely enough it wouldn't harm a vampire if they didn't come too close, but in a horrifying way to let whomever was down there know that the sun was in the sky. The area was cold, and everything echoed loudly as it was quite literally a simple stone corridor with one door and two exits, the one you came from and the one that had dried blood leading to a very lonely door.

But there was no longer a door there.

The barely six foot tall archway had been cemented shut.

At some point during the night Alcina and her girls had fallen into a dreamless, slumber-like state. The frigid cold keeping them stored motionless and thoughtless until the impending white light of their looming fate began to spill over into the silo.

Bela was the first to wake.

She was stiff and so cold that when she peered gingerly towards where they all rest with their fingers still touching their mothers, she realized that their digits had turned completely grey. Void of all color or circulation.

It was then the shock and panic of realization that light was filling the silo, that Bela used all her might to push from the stinging cold floor and assess the situation.

Her wide eyes peered up to see the crescent moon of sunlight was growing larger and larger at the very top of the silo walls.

The sunlight was coming, death was coming. Help, was not.

Severity set in.

"Mother," her raw voice rasped, "mother please, wake up - wake up! Sisters! Get up!"

Their movements were just as slow as hers but they joined her, sitting up and leaning into the cold brick of the wall, eyes flying from the blue sky above to their mother who still lay completely unresponsive.

"Mother! Mother, please!" Bela called once more.

Daniela and Cassandra reached for each other, then Bela, trying to pull on their chains once more to see if by any mishap of fate they could break free. But they could not. They were too weak and it was too late.

The light melted down the brick above further and further as the moments passed, and the girls took to holding onto each other instead, inching as far from the wall as possible to give them any more time that might be possible before death seared them.

"M-mother - " Dani whined, "wake up... the sun! Please!"

Still, nothing.

Cassandra held fast to her sisters and brought their attention to her, the most somber expression they'd ever seen taking her beautiful face. She shook her head, accepting the fate that had befallen them, refusing to let it end without expressing the love she never truly said out loud, with actions.

So there, in the chilling wake of the sunlight, Cassandra, Bela, and Daniela held each other in an embrace of sisterhood as they braved their fears for what was to come.

Staring up at the sky, they waited for it all to end.

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #alcina dimitrescu/reader #lesbian #f/f #fanfic #wlw #fic #donna beneviento #karl heisenberg #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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Hi!

I just read a very funny fic 'Much ado about nothing' by Fire_lily and Violet_20 on AO3 and I was wondering... how do you think Sanji (and by the other guys) would behave when the girls are on their periods?

Okay, yeah, it was really funny. I often think about this, honestly, ngl. And you know how much I tend to write because I'm a menace to society, so I'll try to keep it brief. Btw, assume all the guys here are cis men (which hurts, because I'd rather die than say Usopp, Luffy and Zoro have dicks. But okay. Let's say they do) and that Nami is the only one in her period (because I think Robin is trans and also she has been dealing with pain so much on her own that even if she had her period, the crew wouldn't even notice. Nami, Franky, Jinbe, and Brook would be the only ones knowing).

Chopper is the one explaining what a period is, by the way, because these idiots know the basics but not much and I think they could use some health classes? Like, seriously, it'd be nice.

Luffy: Doesn't understand what the fuck is a period (Makino explained it. His ass didn't listen). If Nami is bleeding, can't Chopper cure her? Oh, he can't? Is she sick? Is she going to die? No? She's fine, then? But she needs them to give her a break because even if she isn't sick, she's still not going through the best time. It's uncomfortable and she feels bad and sensitive. I think Luffy would have a lot of questions and he would ask shamelessly about them. And he would also try to be considerate and share his food with Nami and cause less trouble. I know he's chaotic but he's always really nice when a crewmate is in pain, and if Nami (his navigator. His Nami!!!) is feeling bad, he'll do whatever he can to help her. If she has cramps he'll probably stay beside her and sleep with her and cuddle. He's actually worried sick even if she tells him she's fine.

Zoro: He doesn't really give a fuck. Kuina explained what periods were to him and how unfair it was and he agreed. It is unfair. It is fucked up. They shouldn't go through that. He respects Nami a lot for being able to work and yell and live normally while she's bleeding and cramping (I mean, that's HIS normal state, but Nami isn't like him). So he just supports her from a distance and if she needs anything he'll just try to help and that's it. He's like?? He's normal about it. Just a thing the body does. Everyone thinks it's such a big deal, but it's not.

Usopp: He grew up with Kaya. I don't need to say anything else. He's always complaining about Nami being louder than usual or oversensitive and saying that she doesn't need to blame them for being in pain, but he only says it because they're best friends, lmao. "Girl, I know you're in pain but it's not my fault. Chill. Do you want a chocolate bar?" and he's pretty much the only one allowed to keep her company when she's stressed and too angry to deal with the others. Bestie privileges. He knows how to make her happy. The perks of having a childhood sweetheart and taking care of her when she was on her period (she was just emotional, though, not like Nami who is a ticking time bomb depending on the month). He always has pads, pills, and distractions ready for Nami. He's just there and normal about it and helping her out.

Sanji: Fucking dramatic. I can't stand him. I'm gonna throw bricks at him. I love him, but he's either the most respectful gentleman on earth or the weirdest guy ever about this. He's probably both at the same time. He's SO annoying, oh my god. He keeps wanting to do everything for Nami, and okay, the food, tea, and extra snacks are fine. But it's just too much. He's the one crying all the time like "WHY DID GOD CURSE OUR MELLORINES WITH SUCH PAIN?????????? OH NAMI-SWAN IF I COULD TAKE YOUR SUFFERING I WOULD!!!!!! YOU ARE SO BRAVE FOR THIS!!!!!" and Usopp is the one actually throwing stuff at him and kicking him out of the girl's room when he comes to bring some snacks and won't shut up. He's,, Overly helpful. He has good intentions, really, but Nami is just on her period. She can still move and do her own things, thank you very much. I think he learns to be more normal about it with time, though. And he's just this way with Nami, probably (I say this bc I'm writing a Sanuso fic with Trans Usopp on his period and I swear Sanji is normal about it).

Chopper: I mean. It's the doctor. He keeps an eye on Nami and takes care of her. He's gentle and always tries to bring her painkillers if it's too much. Reminds her to drink a lot of water and eat properly but never too much because she could get sick! He's the cutest, gentlest thing ever.

Franky: Another dramatic man. He's just like Sanji, except that instead of crying because Nami has to go through this, he keeps saying she's SUPEERRRRR COOL AND STRONG FOR DEALING WITH THIS. But it's only for a few seconds and then he's just acting like a dad. Which includes helping if needed but then asking the weirdest questions to see if Nami is alright.

Brook: He would be the sweetest thing ever. But also, we gotta admit that he's still a perv and would ask to see Nami's underwear anyway. But leaving that aside, yeah, he's sweet. He offers tea and gentle music while she works and tries to be a gentleman. He makes a few jokes here and there, Nami hits him, the usual stuff. But he's a sweet grandpa so he's just there being nice. But, y'know, Brook is always nice to be around. He just offers his help more and often asks Nami if she's feeling okay.

Jinbe: He doesn't quite understand what he's supposed to do, but he just doesn't get in Nami's way if she's mad, and if she's sensitive he'll try to make the crew shut up for a while. Gentle older man. He always tries to make peace around the place, but pretty much like Brook and he also tries not to overstep. He asks Zoro if he should be doing something, and Zoro just shrugs and says to let Nami do her own thing.

#okay this is actually really sweet #gonna fix this and say luffy/zoro/usopp are trans to me and they have their periods too but yeah #also sanji is so obsessed with periods because they give him gender euphoria and envy he wants that so fucking bad #he constantly asks nami to describe how it feels like and she thinks he's being a perv but nope. he's just transfem any prns genderfluid #it's impossible for me to make this about robin okay it's just like ace. i can't picture them being cis. it's a nightmare to me.#one piece #cat burglar nami #strawhat pirates

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the-crystal-one · 6 months

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Nicest Kids In Town

~Chapter 6~ As Sandra gained her detention for the day, this time for her hair being...rather larger than life, she gazed out of the dirty windows in the dimly lit hallways. She never did understand why blacks were seen as 'inferior' and whites were supposedly better. Heck. She could think of a few great examples where that logic fell through, but that was neither here nor there. When she finally reached the detention room, down the hall where the 'assistant principle's' office was, she heard a rather familiar voice.

"Yes do you know where I might find her?" A smooth, animated like voice echoed against the walls. Saucy's eyes grew to the size of dinner saucers, Corny! She couldn't believe he was here...why was he here?! Her hair had been picked to perfection yet she could not shake the feeling of embarrassment she was developing. Not embarrassed of her afro, that was never the case, embarrassed because she knew it was seen as unkept so people would stare. That. That is what she was embarrassed about. She quickly ducked into the detention room, her back against the door as her chest heaved with...joy? Excitement? Fear? She couldn't pinpoint it exactly but if she had to pick, it might be all three. "Why you all shaken up Saucy?" Her big headed little brother chuckled as he grooved to the jams on the radio. She shook her head, taking her seat at the "teacher's" desk. She tapped her nail along with the instruments.

"Sandra?" The melodic voice traveled to her ears causing her head to the door, seeing...Corny. "Mr.Co- Corny." She stood up from her seat, dusting her her dress off, "What brings you here? Oh you must be looking for Amber or Tracey, they are on the other side of the-" He quickly shakes his head, "No no, I'm actually here for you. I wanted to talk to you but I couldn't wait until the show. I hope that's alright." He grabbed her hand, looking into her eyes

Sandra couldn't believe it. He actually wanted to see her. "Well I- I don't mind at all, what is it that you need from me?" The man started but in walked Link Larkin and Tracey Turnblad, having their own little conversation. "You didn't have to do that, Link." He shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, "Hey, no prob." He surveyed the room, watching all of the teenagers dance and jive to the tunes, "Besides, looks like a cool scene down here." Saucy decided to hold off on the conversation and slowly but surely, let go of the man in front of her, walking over to Tracey and embracing her, "Hey Trace, I'm startin' to think you like coming to see us in here." They both giggled in sync and broke the hug. The bell rang and Seaweed, with Penny right behind him, "Listen, man, you ain't gotta stop now." As he spoke, Saucy made her way back to Corny, "How about you come with us? My ma is having a little get together at the store, I don't think she'd mind." A smile grew across his face accompanied with a nod, "I'd appreciate that very much Ms.Stubbs." Corny grabbed the eldest Stubbs' hand, laying a gentle kiss on the back of it.

Apparently, as Saucy was getting her groove on with Mr.Collins, Link, Penny, and Tracey had also been invited to this funky shindig, but if anything Link was worried about their neighborhood. Penny and Tracey on the other had were elated!

"I've never been to North Avenue before," Link scratched the back of his neck nervously, "Uh, well, would it be safe?" Sandra couldn't help but chuckle at him, she wondered if he knew that's how they felt everyday. Seaweed looked over at his sister, looking Corny up and down before smirking, "San, tell cracker boy to calm down. He ain't got nothin' to worry about." Saucy walked over to the blue vest wearing boy and pat him on the shoulder, "It's all cool, y'all will be just fine."

Right next to them, Penny made her way towards Tracey, a wide grin plastered across her doll like cheeks, "Wow! Being invited places by colored people!" The black and white haired girl reciprocated her friends emotions, "It feels so hip!" They squealed in excitement while Saucy and Seaweed gave each other a look as if they were communicating to one another. The boy started, "I'm glad y'all feel that way," His sister wrapped an arm around his shoulder, "'Cause, uh, not many people do, y'all know what I'm sayin'?" She turned her head around to her peers, the people she's know since childhood. Each and everyone of them were different, her brother included, yet to white people they were one in the same.

They all lifted their heads or nodded along, a strew of, "Yeah that's right." "Mhm!" "Don't we know it"'s rang through the class room. Saucy shook her head, turning back to their caucasian counter parts as her brother began, "Heeeeeeey! I can't see why people look at me and only see the color of my face!" Saucy nodded along with him patting him on the shoulder while stepping in front of him then extending her pointer finger up to the air, "Ah yeah, and then there's those who try to help God knows, but always have to put me in my place." She slid next to her brother so they could both address the group, "But we won't ask you to be color blind," They began to shuffle along the floor, feet tapping rhythmically. Sandra didn't notice it yet, but Corny's eyes hadn't let her since she began talking, how could he? The girl was just so..enchanting, but he also knew her and her brother's word were true. "Cause if you pick up the fruit child, you're sure to fiiiind." "The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juice." Seaweed leaned his head on Saucy's shoulder in a playful manner, as if he wasn't speaking the truth, "I could say it ain't so but darlin' what's the use?"

Saucy jokingly pushed Seaweed off of her, now finally making eye contact with Corny, "The darker the chocolate, the richer the taste." She left him with a wink before returning to her sibling as the spoke together, "And that's where it's at! Now baby run and teeell that." The students behind the waved at them like church mothers do at the end of a Sunday server, "Run and tell that!" The began walking out of the class room because they knew in fact this conversation was going to take them longer than they had, "Hey, yeaaaah!" Seaweed strutted down the hallway, knowing that no one but the janitors was here. "I can't see why people disagree, Each time I tell em' what I know is true, oh no," Saucy turned around, grabbing Corny's hand, pulling him along with her as her brother broke in once again, "And if you come and se the world I'm from, I bet your heart is gonna feel it tooooo!"

Tracey began shimmying along with Seaweed while Link and Penny stood back, taking in all of the information being given to them.

Seaweed, turned to face Trace, his new found friend of many differences, yet she did not view him any different than her. "I could lie but baby, let's be bold, vanilla can be nice but if the truth be told!"

Saucy broke away from Corny, her brother embracing his sister as she addressed everyone, "Blacker the berry! The sweeter the juice!" The children began running out of the double doors, out to the "grassy" area where the bus came to pick them and Saucy began to shuffle in the grass, "I could say it ain't so but darlin', what's the use?" The Stubbs boy had made his way over to the slightly taller red haired girl, gazing up at her with a look all too familiar to Saucy, "The darker the chocolate, the richer the taste!" Saucy rolled her eyes, grabbing her brother by the collar, yanking him back towards her. Not because she disapproved of what he was doing, heck, she was on the same boat as him, but she didn't what him to get hurt, like she was fixin' to do. "And that's where it's at! Oh baby, baby, run and teeeelll that." Once again, the response was echoed amongst the teens who pranced around, right along with Saucy and Seaweed.

Finally they had arrived to the bus stop waiting patiently, still engaging in such a riveting conversation, in Sandra's opinion. From her peripheral vision, a brown skinned girl bouncing over to the two of them, the youngest Stubbs sibling. In the back ground, Amber Von Tussle could be heard yelling, "Link! Link Larkin!" Yet it was not acknowledged, not even by Link himself.

"Oh y'all this is our sister, Little Inez, say hey baby." Sandra kissed her sister on the top of her head, smoothing out her bangs then letting her go. "Mr.Collins? What are you- Hey! I know Tracey Turnblad! Good for you girl you got on the show!" Seaweed patted her on the back as Tracey pipped up, "Well you better be next!" Inez's head got a little higher as she thought about it, Saucy knew that she'd been dreaming of the day she could dance for a real audience, she just hoped she'd be there to see it.

"Ya got that right!" Seaweed broke in and ushered everyone to back up, all but Saucy moved because she knew exactly what was about to happen and she couldn't help but jump in. "You better show em' girl!" The eldest sibling got into ready stance, waiting for her sister to lead the way as the other began to form in the back of them.

"I'm tired of coverin' up all my pride!" Inez began to move in a way, not even Tracey had seen before, she was amazed! "So give me five on the black hand side!" "I got a new way of movin' and I got my own voice!" "So how can I help but to shout and rejoice!" Inez grabbed her siblings' hands, bouncing about like a rubber ball that had been shot out of a football stadium, passionately speaking, "Oh the people 'round here can barely pay their rent! Then try to make a dollar outta, fifteen cents!" The bus had pulled up and opened its doors, all of them including Link, Tracey, Penny, and Corny hopped on, intently listening to the young girl, "But we got a spirit money just can't buy, It's deep as a river and soars to the sky, to the sky!" They hadn't even taken their seats because of how excited they all were. Saucy help onto the chair back, stabling herself as she made eye-contact with suit wearing man in front of her, "Hey! I can't see the reason it can't be the kinda world where we all get our chance!"

"The time is now! So we can show 'em how, so turn the music up and let's all dance! " In this moment, Sandra took this opportunity to sit neck to Corny, her hand now on top of his and a soft grin on her face, "Cause all things are equal when it comes to love." Seaweed's hand came down on his sister's shoulder, startling her as his head came between her and the slick haired man next to her, "Well that ain't quiet true, when push comes to shove!" "The black the berry! The sweeter the juice! They say it so but darlin' what's the use. The darker the chocolate, The richer the taste!"

Seaweed grooved his way towards Penny, gyrating and shimmying in all the right ways that caught her attention. "And that's where it's at! Now baby, baby, baby, run and telllll that!" ~As the bus went through the suburban neighborhood, the scenery began to change significantly from wide houses, to tall apartment buildings that look like they have been in use for a while. Men, women, children, heck even dogs were out on the streets, dancing, singing, laughing, or just having a grand ol' time~ One by one they all filed out, some going home, some prancing to the store, others staying right there. As Seaweed hoped out of the bus, he gave Johnny some skin and began making his way to Penny Pingleton. Slowly, he took her blowpop out of her mouth, winking at her and putting a two fingered kiss on her lips as she fell back from excitement. Tracey and Link looked at one another before quickly rushing to her aide.

#thecrystalonewrites #x black fem reader #x black reader #x woc!reader #corny collins x black reader #hairspray x black reader #corny collins #hairspray #x stubbs! reader

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shayyprasad · 4 months

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games // part three | peter parker

masterlist to this here!

#adriencore

the only exception paramore

not proofread lolz

(first person)

over the last couple weeks, peter and i had gotten rather close. which was great, you know. it was nice to have a friend that i wasn't constantly yearning to impress.

everything with him was so easy. i didn't have to try when i was with him.

i guess that was my favorite part of peter's company. honestly, i couldn't remember the last time i had a friend like him.

now i can see why my dad liked him so much. peter just had that. i'm not sure what "that" was. it was something that made being around him so enticing. so fun. how was this kid not popular? he was so much better then flash is, and ever will be.

i saw him sitting by ned at lunch, and i wanted to join them. granted, ned and i had never really talked, but i'm sure he was great. after all, peter wouldn't hang out with someone shitty. i really liked him.

as friends, of course. yeah. he was like... a brother?

i got up, but liz stopped me, "where are you going?"

"oh, um, by peter."

"peter?" flash scoffed. "why the fuck would you willingly want to hang out with that ass?"

"first," i snapped, "peter's not an ass. if anyone is, it's you. he's actually really cool, but you have the iq of a goldfish so you wouldn't realize that."

liz and flash stared at me, jaws slacked. okay, so that was a bit bitchy, but they asked for it. it was out of their place to talk about peter like that.

he was so nice and freaking kind and special and one of a kind and i loved him so-

oh god.

no, no, it was fine if i loved him.

he was my friend, and i loved all my friends.

yep.

i sat down by him and he looked up. "hi, babes."

"oh- uh, hi, y/n."

ned's eyes widened and i smiled at him. "it's ned, yeah? we have 8th together."

y-yeah! we do!"

"i'm y/n."

"i know! i-i mean, yeah. i've seen you around."

i was getting deja-vu all of a sudden.

peter ignored ned, "did you need something?"

"nah. just got bored of my friends. god, i don't even know why i hang out with them, they're such jerks. honestly, you're so much better."

i pretended not to see ned wink not-so-subtly at peter beforing leaving to sit by betty and some of her friends.

peter was really pretty, i noticed. well, i'd noticed before, but that was irrelevent.

"so, um, uh- i... i was wondering if-" he was red-faced, then squeezed his eyes shut. "if you- you'd like to go on a date with me?" peter stuttered.

i gaped.

i did not see that coming at all.

"oh, christ," he murmured, "i shouldn't have said anything, and i fucked this up, and i'm so, so, so sorry-"

"yes."

i said it quickly, and i wasn't sure where it came from. but it was kind of late to go back now. what the fuck was i doing? i lov- liked him.

i liked him, right?

but was that okay? no- i can't-

i cut off my own train of thoughts, "i will. yeah. i'd love to."

and god, he looked so happy. "really? this- this isn't a joke?"

it hurt me to think that he thought that. who'd messed with him like that?

i hate people.

"no! i- no! it's not!"

peter was smiling so bright and wide, how could i not as well?

it didn't take away that sickly feeling pooling at the bottom of my stomach.

yes, i like him. i like him so much.

so why was i panicking like this?

maybe i'd made a mistake.

i don't know.

i didn't want to end up like them. i couldn't.

so i forced a smile on my face and listened to him talk about date ideas.

when i was younger, i saw my daddy cry

and curse at the wind

he broke his own heart and i watched

as he tried to reassemble it

it was old news that my parents weren't together. they'd had this big screaming, yelling fight. i've heard before that you say stupid, untrue, mean things when you're mad. but i know for a fact that's wrong.

you say things you'd otherwise be afraid to admit.

i think that's what happened with my parents. they had all these pent-up words, feelings, and emotions they needed out. and one day, they did.

there wasn't going back from that.

and my momma swore

that she would never let herself forget

and that was the day that i promised

i'd never sing of love if it does not exist

after the offical divorce, they had shared custody over me. i went back and forth from house to house, and it wasn't something i'd ever gotten used to.

lots of kids' parents' went through that. so i wasn't special.

but maybe there's a line where it differs.

my mom and dad were parents straight out of a hallmark movie. perfect love, perfect family, perfect life. we had every meal as a family, shared our feelings (my mom was adamant on making my dad do this, she said it brought us closer together), and even wore matching pjs.

so i don't know what went wrong.

maybe i know somewhere deep in my soul

that love never lasts

and we've got to find other ways to make it alone

or keep a straight face

i woke up to screaming and shouting downstairs that one night. my mom was throwing things and breaking glass and my dad was waving his hands around wildly, telling her that she was insane.

i never found out why they fought that night. it wasn't something i'd concerned myself with before, and by the time i did, it seemed too late.

things went south for my mother not long after the divorce. she had financial problems and stuff, and got some mental disorders? i don't know. i'm not sure. i was kinda young. well, not that young. i was old enough to remember. twelve, thirteen, maybe?

she got into drugs. addicted and whatnot. neglected me, i suppose. i feel like that was harsh. it wasn't like that. she was my favorite person when she was sober or whatever. but the second she wasn't, i didn't exist.

she wasn't sober a lot, and i guess that was the problem.

anyways, my dad found out, brought this whole thing to court and he was granted full custody.

and i've always lived like this

keeping a comfortable distance

and up until now i had sworn to myself

that I'm content with loneliness

because none of it was ever worth the risk

my mom died shortly after from an accidental overdose.

dad said "accidental," but he had this weird look on his face that made me think otherwise.

but i didn't like thinking about it. so i didn't, not really.

she was angel, flying and free now.

that's what i told myself whenever i missed her.

i know for a fact they didn't ever talk unless they absolutely had to, and even then, it wasn't always kindly. it was a toxic breakup, and i knew that much.

i've got a tight grip on reality

but i can't let go of what's in front of me here

i know you're leaving in the morning when you wake up

leave me with some kind of proof it's not a dream

i finished my last curl, even though i knew for a fact i wasn't going. i was hoping that by the time i was done with my hair, i'd have some courage mustered up.

i didn't.

i was scared.

from the second i got home, i pondered my feelings for peter and honestly reached a realization that i was in love with him.

my mom was in love with my dad.

look where that got her.

she went off the rails, completely. and a part of my dad never came back. he was more reserved now, i'd say. and i think finding pepper made him a little better about that. pepper made him happy in ways i could never, but their relationship would never be as perfect as my mom and dad's were.

there was something different about it, and i couldn't ever explain it in words, i don't think.

i looked at the girl across me in the mirror, and i wanted to throw her off the balcony, it was a mood really.

mascara and eyeliner rained down her cheeks, creating one big smudged mess.

what if i ended up like my mom? dead and never complete again? wanting the one thing that i couldn't have?

no, no, peter wasn't like that. he was sweet, he was kind. he put everybody before himself, which is one of the reasons i loved him.

but my dad was like that, too. he was a good man, not selfish in the ways that mattered.

look where that got him.

i didn't end up going. i cried in my bedroom, angry that i couldn't get over this stupid fear. i didn't want to be heartbroken.

but what was there any good, if i was the one doing it to myself?

god, i don't know.

i don't know anything anymore, it seems like for everything.

(peter, first person)

[two hours previous]

i told aunt may as soon as i got home about my date. we'd settled on some fancy diner at 7, and it only felt right for may to be the first person to know.

i mean, she'd kinda already known about my crush. well, "crush" sounds like something a third grader would say, so i take it back. i really, really, really loved her. i was in love with her, but it seemed a little early to say that, so i didn't.

may helped me get ready, she was excited. i tried to downplay it, like it wasn't a big deal, but i think she saw right through my facade.

i swear, she knows everything.

we settled on uncle ben's old tux, and she got a little teary-eyed and said i looked just like him. i kissed her forehead and told her not to cry, because i never liked seeing her sad.

i told her that, but she said she wasn't sad. she was happy. she was happy that i was wearing it, and that it seemed right.

my hair was done by aunt may, gelled back a little to keep it in place, i'd say i looked pretty good.

for one of the first times, i felt handsome, you know? like i wasn't just some highschool loser.

it was funny how y/n had that type of hold on me. but it wasn't a bad thing, it kept me on my toes.

damn, i loved her.

and for a while, i thought she felt the same.

but the fact that i've been waiting an hour and a half for her to show up proves me otherwise.

i really thought i had a chance here, but i guess it was all just fun and games to her.

it's fine. what did i expect?

i didn't want aunt may to find out, because for some reason, i didn't want her disliking y/n, because i still didn't. it felt like i had a responsibility to keep her reputation untarnished. i called and texted her, but she never responded. leaving a twenty dollar bill on the table, i finished my glass of water, and left. i ignored the pitying looks the waiters gave me.

i webbed away, high above the city, so no one would see me. stopping at a tall skyscraper that was parallel to the avenger's tower, i sat at the top, pulling my knees to my chest.

i suppose this was kinda on me, it was stupid to get my hopes up.

y/n had done this to so many other guys, and i was stupid to think i was any different.

i fell for it. i fell for her.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #spiderman #peter parker #angst #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #games part three

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