#broke my own heart tbh
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scorchedmazes · 4 months ago
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minewt week bingo!
i decided to go for the prompt: "the letter wasn't for me."!!
summary:
Thomas gives Minho the letter that Newt wrote after realizing it was meant for Minho instead.
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@minewtweek <333
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sen-ya · 9 months ago
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@heart-pirates-week || Day 3 || Penguin/Loyalty
Idk if it’s better or worse if you read this other one first
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lyriumsings · 1 year ago
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baldurs gate is so funny it’s just
laezel &shadowheart: let’s break you outta this religious cult!
wyll & gale: let’s break you outta this unhealthy relationship!
astarion & karlach: let’s break the people who broke you!
that’s it that’s the game
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thesadboy · 2 years ago
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Fuck what the maesters and Jaehaehae have to say, I personally think that Saera and Viserra did  regularly bicker and fight as siblings do but they also did love and look out for each other. Let me have healthy sister relationships in the ASOIAF world for once.
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thiefbird · 2 years ago
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Accidentally published this way too early, whoops!
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@midnightprelude thank you for the prompt!
Wow so this one got long and kinda convoluted! We've got Fenris watching Nathaniel and Anders, we've got Nathaniel watching Fenris watch him and Anders, we've got two broody men brooding a lot!
For @dadrunkwriting
Anders laughed, big and bold in a way almost completely unfamiliar to Fenris, at something the Warden-Archer had said. As was tradition at this point, they'd all ended up at the Hanged Man once they'd arrived safely back in Kirkwall. And to Fenris's great, if unexpressed, displeasure, 'all' today seemed to include the Howe.
It wasn't that he had any specific complaints about the man himself; it wasn't his fault Hawke had been hired by his sister for a rescue mission. Nathaniel Howe was an good fighter, and an excellent strategist; for all that he was the reason they'd entered the Deep Roads this time, he was also the reason any of them made it back out again. He was a prickly, standoffish man until he had a few pints in him, but Fenris shared those traits with him.
No, the problem was the way Anders had completely lost his mind the moment the archer's sister had begged Hawke's assistance. The man, who had spent their month or so in the Deep Roads miserable and vomiting from claustrophobia, had all but demanded they leave that very moment, without even stopping for supplies.
And the way he'd nearly thrown himself into the arms of his fellow Warden the moment they'd spotted him, darkspawn ambush be damned. He'd only been stopped by Fenris grabbing him by the collar, and had clung to him for long minutes once the fighting was over, murmuring to each other too low for anyone to hear.
All while Fenris watched, miserable and steadily more irritable. He'd thought himself above petty jealousies when he'd accepted that Hawke would always have a piece of Anders' heart, but watching his mage fawn over someone not part of their little group of misfits stung like his brands in the sun.
And yet...
He'd not seen Anders smile so much, so widely, in years. Maybe not ever. Had so rarely heard of his life in the Wardens or before Justice, just that he'd killed a Templar who joined the Wardens to hunt him, and his spirit had possessed him to save his life. But between Nathaniel's reminiscing, and Anders egging him on, Fenris felt he'd learned more about Anders' life before Kirkwall in the last day than he had in the past five years.
He hadn't even known Anders had a lover in the Wardens, but it was clear to everyone who watched them interact how deep their history ran. It was clear in the shock and heartbreak on the Howe's face when the battle ended and he realized Anders was the mage he'd been fighting alongside, in the way he mumbled, stunned, that he'd thought Anders dead. In the way they clung to each other for the day's hike back to Kirkwall, and in the soft way Nathaniel watched Anders on the rare moments they separated.
And Anders, as usual, seemed oblivious to the tensions building. Varric was using the three of them for inspiration, ink smudges staining his fingertips as he scribbled frantic notes. Isabela looked ready to pick up her friend-fiction once more. Even Hawke and Merrill, usually the last to pick up on social cues, were watching them cautiously, as if they were a keg of gaatlok. But Anders was too busy being happy, truly happy, for the first time in a blue moon.
... Happy in a way Fenris didn't make him. In a way he'd never made him. He simply couldn't justify taking that happiness away. He knew when to accept defeat, and how to bow out gracefully.
~~~
Being found in the blasted Deep Roads had been a wild stroke of luck, Nathaniel mused as he sipped his ale. Being found by a rescue operation Delilah had staged by hiring his former lover's best friend was something else entirely. Especially considering he'd spent five years believing said former love was less 'former' and more 'late'.
Maker and Maferath, he was alive. Leave it to Stroud, the great lout, to miss an entire Grey Wardens in the same part of the Deep Roads at the exact same time as him. Five years of thinking Anders had died to a templar's blade, of beating himself up over becoming complacent to the threat Roland had posed, and Anders had been just across the Waking Sea, barely a few days easy travel.
... Leave it to him to not have noticed there was a Warden in Kirkwall at all, but in his defense, there was something flaming wrong with this city. Near every fourth citizen he met felt Blighted, and nearly every Templar.
But that was a matter for the morning. The only important thing now was that Anders was alive. Alive, and apparently possessed by Justice, which was a surprise only because Anders had barely been able to stand being in the same room as the spirit, back at the Vigil. Possessing a willing friend had been Nathaniel's own idle suggestion, all those years ago, and he was glad to have made it, having learned how it saved Anders' life. They were joined, here and whole and hale, and not twisted up upon themselves like every other abomination Nathaniel had ever had the displeasure of meeting.
Anders smelled the same as Nathaniel remembered, as if he'd just stepped out of a memory or the Fade: herbs and healing potions, elfroot smoke and the minty, numbing sweetness of too many lyrium potions. A good, familiar smell that spoke of safety and affection.
He looked good, too. A little older, a little sadder; too thin, too tired. But still so beautiful. And Nathaniel was no longer mired in the leftovers of Rendon Howe’s shame, so he could admit it now, how beautiful Anders was.
He could admit it, now that it was too late to say. Anders hadn't said anything outright, he never would with how the Circle had twisted him, but every third word from his lips was about the Tevinter elf with the nightmarish tattoos, of what couldn't be but definitely was lyrium. And if that wasn't enough, the miserable glares Nathaniel kept catching from the elf were their own evidence.
It had been five years. Of course Anders had moved on, and more fool Nathaniel for not having done the same. But Anders had been dead, and Nathaniel had never managed to say anything of import to him, and maybe those words, those feelings, had died along with him. Burnt to ashes beside Kristoff's suddenly empty corpse and what few of Anders' possessions they'd managed to keep hidden from the Orlesian bastard.
The only issue with that being that Anders was not dead, and all those secret, painful feelings were rising from his ashes like the metaphorical phoenix, and Anders had moved on.
He deserved it. He deserved happiness and love, in whatever form they took. Even if that form was a broody, spiky elf determined to stay as far from Nathaniel as possible while remaining in earshot, and who was currently glaring daggers at him.
... thank Andraste that Sigrun was not here, or Brosca, to quip about Anders having a type. (Thank the Paragons? The Stone? Thank someone, anyhow.)
He tried to bow out after a few drinks and a shared meal, claiming exhaustion from his long stay underground and the hike back, but Anders had grabbed his arm and begged him to stay a while longer, and Maker damn him, he'd never learned how to deny the man anything even before he died.
"What's Warden stamina good for it we can't use it to stay up too late and drink too much?" Anders joked once Nathaniel sat back down beside him.
"I can think of a few things," the Rivaini pirate said, waggling her eyebrows at Nathaniel in case her tone hadn't been clear enough. "Mmm, I had your Commander, once, during the Blight. Definitely worth the cursed blood."
Anders had burst out laughing at that and the elf's -- Fenris's -- ever-present glare had changed to something more sad and contemplative.
"What do you say, Sparky?" the pirate continued once Anders had caught his breath. "Why not let me compare before and after? Determine once and for all if the rumors are true? I still get shivers thinking about your little electricity trick..."
So did Nathaniel. It was a good trick.
"'Bela, you couldn't afford my new fees," Anders had shot back, and Isabela had feigned scandal.
"You'd charge a friend?!"
"I'd charge you, at least."
The conversation moved on, eased by the heady combination of cheap, bad booze, and the raw relief of finally being above ground, but Fenris made no attempt to join it, even as his glares ended and were replaced with resigned, thoughtful staring when Anders leaned against Nathaniel.
Apparently, Justice was less than fond of alcohol, even if he didn't seem to mind Anders' elfroot habit, and Anders had become a bit of a lightweight, even with a Warden's metabolism.
And he was still an overly affectionate drunk, curled into Nathaniel's side with his head on his shoulder in between glances at Fenris as he began to process the elf's reticence. "'Bela, he's sulking again," he complained, his words just starting to slur together.
Isabela chuckled, patting his knee. "Don't think he's too fond of your choice of pillow, sweet thing. Not that I can blame you; I do love an archer. You can pluck my string any day," she added, turning her gaze to Nathaniel with a wink.
"I prefer 'string my bow'," Anders mumbled into Nathaniel's neck as he tried to push himself upright. Nathaniel shivered at the hot, wet sensation on sensitive skin, and then flinched near hard enough to knock over their bench when Anders' flailing hand brushed against his crotch in its search for leverage. He grabbed Anders' wrist and directed him to the safe territory of his knee, and prayed his cock wouldn't start taking more of an interest in the proceedings than it already had.
Anders managed to get to his feet with only a slight struggle, but almost immediately tripped over Nathaniel's foot. Nathaniel instinctively caught him with an arm around his hips, nearly pulling him into his lap in an attempt to stop them both from toppling off the bench and into the rushes.
He made certain Anders was stable on his feet and without obstacles, and gave him a gentle push in Fenris's direction before turning back to his ale, and to Isabela, who gave him a calculating look before pulling a face.
"Oh, that's no fun," she complained cryptically.
Nathaniel huffed out something at least related to a laugh. "'Fun' is not something I've often been accused of, my lady. You will have to elaborate."
"My, my, you are something. I don't hear 'my lady' very often. More usually 'whore' or 'slattern'. 'Wench' if someone is looking to have a few teeth knocked out." She paused, looking over at Anders and Fenris staring awkwardly at each other. "You're in love with him, aren't you."
It wasn't a question, and Nathaniel felt no need to deny it, certain Anders was paying them no mind. "What of it? I thought him dead these last five years. I love a memory, a ghost of what used to be. He's happy. I'm glad he's happy."
Isabela mimed throwing up into her bet before tossing it back. She stood up and vaulted the table, landing on the bench where Anders had been moments before. "Well, you know what they say, Archy: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, and I'm someone else!"
Nathaniel chuckled. "Thank you for the offer, but I think I will just head to bed. I... don't think I want to be 'over' him, just yet, now that I know he lives." He threw back the rest of his ale 26th a grimace, and stood to leave.
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dvarapala · 2 months ago
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udyati's aversion to hunters goes a lot deeper than most might think. yes, most of them are white people, happily othering preternatural people and creatures (of color) whilst squawking about 'protecting the (white) innocents' because it's what they've been taught and it's what they've never questioned, but it's so much more than that. it is more than a girl holding a grudge because "i needed you guys when it mattered most and none of you showed up for me". you see, udyati's ancestors hail from india and they were taken to suriname becoming indentured workers or "kantraki's" - which is a shortened dutch term for contract workers. whereas some people willingly made the journey from india to suriname to escape from their abusive families or the abusive families they (unknowingly, unwittingly) married into, most people were "recruited" (read: tricked into and forced) to make the journey by arkàti's. hunters. bounty hunters, to be very specific, but hunters all the same, taking choices from the people, and making choices for the people in the same breath. (men were easy. arkàti's went after women, specifically, as they fetched higher prices.) this, too, was the case for udyati's ancestors, according to her amma - ankita. and while udyati is perfectly capable of conversing and co-existing with most hunters at some level, even developing friendships, the aversion and revulsion remains in her blood and bones. in her very dna. and perhaps it isn't fair to most modern hunters, many of whom carry modern sensibilities, but there will always be a part of her - hidden though it may be - that's waiting for the other shoe to drop.
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marymekpop · 2 years ago
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I must have liked him. I must have liked him a lot, Yeong-ju.
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piastappies · 3 months ago
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 GORGEOUS! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ
pairing. oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
summary. the youngest leclerc was known to be an outgoing, extroverted menace, but suddenly when she meets the new mclaren driver, she does something she never does — gets embarrassing.
notes. a fair warning for the google translated french.im sorry if it sucks 😭😭 its my first time doing something like this and i really hope u like it :3 ALSO??? OSCAR WIN IN BAKU WAS SO BEAUTIFUL THE OVERTAKE?? THE DEFENDING?? a great day for piastrination!!!!! (can you tell i totally dig x leclerc!reader??) send requests for more smaus pls :)
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, arthur_leclerc and 127 621 others.
yourusername spreading the rbr agenda on the streets of kyoto, because your girl finally graduated journalism and engineering with honours!
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arthur_leclerc charles just saw the jacket and had an aneurysm LMAO
user1 someone check on leclerc pls
charles_leclerc cant believe my OWN baby sister wears that in public
yourusername ill take it off once ferrari releases their own energy drink 👍
alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous as usual ❤️
yourusername please dump my brother and date me instead
yourusername please i beg you
yourusername JUST ONE CHANCE 😭😭😣😣😣😭😭
user2 yn is one of us
maxverstappen1 looking good in blue! 💙
loved by author!
yourbff girl land that job or you gon go broke soon with that red bull addiction 👎👎👎
user3 atp yn is sponsoring the team 😭
yourbff you bet she is, girl
user4 double major in such different things pop off queen
user5 need to see her in paddock cos i know the girl is bout to argue with ferrari engineers
yourusername bin*tto left ferrari cos he knew i would drag him down 😁😁😁
user6 love how we had to go thru the 2023 drought without the baby leclerc and now shes baaaack
user7 fr i missed the times when ferrari wasnt the only thing making charles miserable
user7 congratulations on graduating queen!!!! cant wait for the new vid or to see u at one of the races 🥺
user8 im sorry im really new to f1 stuff who is she and why are the drivers here? 😭
user9 this is charlies sister yn!! but she has her youtube channel where she used to post a lot of diff stuff! shes been living in japan for the past four years of her undergrad degrees but due to the workload she had a hiatus for a year 💔💔 u should check out her channel its so cool
arthur_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 320 612 others.
arthur_leclerc good day in monaco today, changing professions to a photographer rn, what u think of that?
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user10 arthur you had one job to bring your sister to paddock…
user11 its just friday girl calm down
yourusername please restrain yourself from posting pictures of that ugly face you see in the mirror
yourusername …WHO IS IN THE SECOND SLIDE
yourusername ARTHUR ANSWER ME
yourusername my ovaries are quacking rn ARTHUR ANSWER ME
user12 not yn simping over oscar AND calling arthur ugly 😭😭😭
user13 shes so me tbh
charles_leclerc such a handsome man on the third slide 🔥🔥🔥
olliebearman why is yn tweaking like that 😭
yourusername cos he’s so pretty
oscarpiastri you were supposed to send me the picture not POST IT
user14 this is the guy yourusername 🔥‼️‼️
yourusername omg hes SO gorgeous
oscarpiastri thank you…?
arthur_leclerc yourusername please stop embarrassing the family name
yourusername
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liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 101 892 others.
yourusername a quick pit stop in paris before the monaco course is broken!!!!!! (source: trust me bro 🙂‍↕️) drinking for my pookie dookiest brother to secure that pole and p1 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
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yourusername dont let the caption fool you, i am NOT stopping drinking vodka red bull to make sure rbr doesn’t lose their biggest sponsor (me)
maxverstappen1 ty for your service 🫡🫡
yourusername no prob pookie, lecfosi by association but a red bull girlie at heart 😌😌
yourusername big thanks to the autocorrect ❤️❤️❤️ youre the real one babe 🔥🔥🔥
user15 wait till she realises oscar is in the likes…
user16 ohh the girl is gonna be so messy 😭😭😭
user16 im all for it tho 🔥
lilymhe WHAT A GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL
alexandrasaintmleux face card is never denied!
user17 oscar in the likes 🥹🥹
yourusername WHO IS IN THE LIKES??????
yourusername NOO OH MY GOD HES HERE
yourusername HI YOURE SUPER CUTE oscarpiastri
user18 SHE TAGGED HIM LOL
user19 she really want that dick…
yourusername i just think hes cute that is NOT a crime
oscarpiastri i think you’re really cute too :)
yourusername HXJSKSJJDBDJSJS
yourusername sorry a red bull ran across my screen 😭
arthur_leclerc yourbff please tell her she’s not as slick as she thinks she is
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user20 what do you expect 😭😭 she probably partied all night before getting to monaco
user21 LMAOO RIGHT??? but if you watched her vids you know that the girl LOVES an opportunity for a party
user22 yn stronger than me because i’d kiss him on the spot
user23 alr weirdo… they JUST met
user24 he is probably weirded out like imagine meeting a girl who SIMPS over you in the insta comments… she needs to chill
user25 he won’t pick you 👎👎
user26 gtfo if he was weirded out he wouldnt be in the likes of her post or sayin he thinks shes cute lol
user27 the real gentleman out there 🥹🥹
user28 i need them together asap
user29 super delulu but i totally dig the golden retriever gf x polite black cat bf
user30 OMGGG I TOTALLY SEE THE VISION
user31 pls they just met and he was just being polite 👎 stop trying to get into their lives
yourusername
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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 428 621 others.
yourusername HE DID IT!!!! I TOLD YALL THAT HE WOULD DO IT!!! MY BROTHER WINS IN MONACO. DONT HIT US UP FOR THE NEXT WEEK OR TWO!!! ITS CELEBRATION TIME!!!! aussi, charlie, il n'y a pas beaucoup de mots capables d'exprimer à quel point je suis fier de toi. vous l'avez fait et personne ne peut vous l'enlever.
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priniya translation! also, charlie — there isn’t an amount of words able to express how proud i am of you. you did it and no one can take it away from you.
user32 girlie might tell everyone she’s a red bull girl, but like the king sebastian once said, everyone is a ferrari fan even when they say they’re not or something like that 🔥🔥🔥
user33 CONGRATULATIONS CHARLES!!! FINALLY WON!!!
carlossainz55 ay cropped my ‘carlos p3’ out 😖😖
yourusername this is a celebration post for my pookiest brother you are IRRELEVANT rn
carlossainz55 that was harsh
yourusername win YOUR home race and i’ll post one 4 u 👍👍
charles_leclerc je t’aime mon lutin ❤️
yourusername je t’aime mon coco 🫶🫶🫶
oscarpiastri congratulations to the man of the day, such an honour to stand next to you on the podium xx
arthur_leclerc man you gotta stop commenting on her posts, she’s going insane rn
oscarpiastri i’m sorry…?
yourusername NO DONT BE SORRY DONT LISTEN TO HIM IM COMPLETELY SANE
yourusername oscarpiastri please keep interacting with me i’m gonna die if you listen to arthur
oscarpiastri i guess i gotta text you now and then to make sure you don’t die
yourusername please do that
user34 do they know we can see that??
user35 idc im eating this up
user36 oscaryn truthers rise and shine
user37 atp i cant tell if hes interested or if hes doing that for his own entertainment
user38 probably both
user39 i LOVE how a celebration post for charles turned into an opportunity to flirt with oscar 😭😭
user40 she is NOT stronger than me because if i had a chance i’d took it
user41 setting her priorities straight
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 792 721 others.
oscarpiastri a quick but very much needed pit stop before zandvoort
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user42 someone check on yn ASAP
user43 yn one of us once again because we couldn’t bag oscar either 😭
user44 can yall stop talking abt that girl FOR ONCE no one gaf
landonorris looking good mate
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yourusername pls tell me you found more of these beautiful seashells and brought some back for me
oscarpiastri we did actually! y immediately thought abt you and picked the pretty ones
yourusername GOD. i love her give her a big hug from me
oscarpiastri will do maam 🫡🫡
user45 so it’s not yn in the pics?? NOOOOO
user46 my life is ruined rn
user47 throwing oscaryn into a memory box because oscar and his gf looks really cute together
charles_leclerc hope you had a great summer mate
oscarpiastri the best 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️
user48 what if they r just trolling us because this caption looks really similar to the one yn posted before monaco???
user49 OMGGG YOURE ONTO SOMETHING
user50 hopefully on the way to the psych ward because this is some delulu shit
user51 soft launch over the summer 🥹🥹 hes so cute
user52 whoever his girl is, i just hope they’re happy and yall should too!
yourusername also plsplspls can y send me the id to the top?? it looks so cute from the back
user53 girl he wont choose you stop trying so hard 😭😭
user54 they can be friends ? lol
user55 does someone knows who the girl is???? i need to know its not yn 😭😭
user56 georgerussell63 tell us what you know 🫵🫵
georgerussell63 🤐🤐🤐
alex_albon he’s actually crying and gritting his teeth because he’d LOVE to tell
gossipracegirl
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liked by georgerussell63, user57 and 87 621 others.
gossipracegirl a rumour has it that a driver for formula one with a number eighty one was seen getting cozy with one of his on-track rival’s little sister, while in a relationship. was it a drunken mistake or was it all planned?
tagged oscarpiastri yourusername
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user58 something is really wrong with leclercs one is a homie hopper and second is a homewrecker LOL
user59 shouldve happened in monaco so the people could get detained for invading their priacy like wtf WHO CARES
user60 all she do is bring bad pr to oscar BOO👎👎👎
user61 nooo oscar pookie you were supposed to be free from drama 😭😭
user62 gr63 in the likes LMAOO
user63 not yn being a homewrecker girl i liked u sm 😭😭
user64 yall acting like she’s in the wrong ? it gotta be consensual if they looked that chill n happy
user65 no wonder why yn has been streaming olivia rodrigo RELIGIOUSLY
user66 isnt that some type of incest atp?
user67 LMAOO imagine making out with your brother’s adopted son
yourusername
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liked by pascale_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 273 811 others.
yourusername YALL THOUGHT. it was me all along :P i was giggling n kicking my feet pretending i know osco’s gf while it was ME. summer break vlog with osco coming up sooner than u think so please stop calling me a homewrecker 😖😖😖
also, girls don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, being yourself is what gets you an amazing guy even if your brother thinks youre embarrassing <3
tagged oscarpiastri
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georgerussell63 ty for not SLACKING OFF anymore i barely could hold it inside 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
yourusername you told HALF the grid be for real brother you DID NOT hold it inside
fransisca.gomes no way oscar bagged you before i could 😭😭😭😭
yourusername i’m always gonna be yours kiks no one could take you away from me <3
francisca.gomes <3
pierregasly really thought getting u a bf would mean you leave MY girl alone
yourusername thinking is not your best thing, stick to racing
user68 shit user48 YOU WERE RIGHT
user48 NEVER DOUBT ME BITCHES
user69 this text?? oh he is down bad for you girl
user70 i need all of those bitches who called yn a homewrecker to APOLOGISE like rn
oscarpiastri thank you for letting me be a part of your life like this
user71 i know the girl is GIGGLING rn
yourusername thank YOU for making a part of YOUR life
user72 get yourself a man who THANKS you for being with you
user73 oscar piastri is the MAN
user74 osco 🥹🥹
user75 theyre the cutest your honour
arthur_leclerc cant believe you two are actually together
arthur_leclerc what is WRONG with you oscarpiastri
user76 SO OPPOSITES DOES ATTRACT
charles_leclerc i feel like i should tear those adoption papers apart no?
user77 nicole and pascale in the likes omg the moms r proud 🥹
hattiepiastri i miss youuuu come back to aus soon
yourusername I MISS YOU TOO 😭😭 i’ll be back soon!!
lorenzotl ❤️❤️❤️
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lilymhe double date when?
yourusername mark your calendar, we’ll be there 🫶
user78 does it mean we lose our favorite rbr girlie? 😭😭😭😖😖
user79 mclaren YOU TOOK HER AWAY FROM US 🫵
yourusername i am NOT wearing that ugly orange for a MAN (even if hes super gorgeous and sweet)
mclaren ☹️☹️☹️
landonorris it’s papaya
yourusername “it’s papaya” ☝️🤓
landonorris oscarpiastri please break up with her or you’re gonna be paying for my therapy
oscarpiastri send the bill mate, i’m in for the longest ride possible here
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stevie-petey · 10 days ago
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episode nine: the piggyback
“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.” You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”
Summary: operation save hawkins is a go. youre eagle one, steve is currently doing that, eddie is youd be lying if you said you havent thought about it, nancy is it happened once in a dream, robin is if you had to pick a girl, and dustin is eagle two. what could possibly go wrong ? spoiler alert: everything. literally everything goes wrong. might as well break a few promises while youre at it. for the plot. but at least its over, right? .... right?
Rating: general, some swearing, violence
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, cursing, weapons, blood, death and gore, injuries, lowkey suicidal thoughts
Words: 8.5k (we broke tradition where the last chapter is the longest but tbh this is probs for the best)
Before you swing in: oh my god this is the end. i am. very very emotional rn. this story is my baby and i dont know what im going to do now that its done. i cant even write an in between chapter because we still dont have season 5 content :((( im gonna miss writing this story, and i will absolutely go crazy waiting for season 5 so i can write again. these next few months will be ROUGH but !!!! thank you guys so so so much for reading. all your comments/reblogs/kudos/likes have meant the world to me. im truly the luckiest girl ever :') for now, and for the final time... enjoy !
It’s pitch black outside. All around you is darkness. The sun is long gone, its golden warmth no longer present, retreating into the treeline as if afraid of what the night will bring. 
You’re afraid, too.
Everyone stands around Nancy. The group is quiet as you await whatever she has to say. When she turns to face you, her voice is leveled, calm, but her hands shake. 
She’s afraid, too.
“Okay,” Nancy exhales deeply. “I wanna run through it one more time.” She looks at Robin, prompting her to recite everything back. “Phase one?”
“We meet Erica at the playground.” Robin responds. “She’ll signal Max and Lucas when we’re ready.”
“Phase two.”
You step forward. “Max and I will bait Vecna. When he goes after one of us, he’ll go into his trance. If he chooses Max, we’ll go onto phase three together.”
“And…” Nancy swallows, looking away. “And if he chooses you?”
It’s Steve who steps forward this time. He stands tall, brave, but his voice shakes. “Then I’ll stay with her, walkman ready, while you and Robin go on your own.”
You grab his hand, squeezing it. He squeezes back. 
“Speaking of phase three.” Dustin clears his throat, weary eyes never leaving you. “Me and Eddie wil draw the bats away.”
“Carefully,” you look pointedly at your brother. “Right?”
He rolls his eyes at you while Nancy continues speaking. “Okay, phase four.”
“We head into Vecna’s newly bat-free lair and…” Robin holds up a molotov cocktail. The liquid sloshes around. The scent of gasoline still stings your nose from when you helped her pour it into the bottles earlier. “Flambe.” 
“Nobody moves onto the next phase until we’ve all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what.” Nancy reiterates, looking around the RV. Her eyes linger on you, cautious, almost doubtful. She trusts you. She knows she trusts you. But she also knows your heart and the lengths you’ll go to save others. 
Nancy has always admired your selflessness, but she’s also always seen it as your greatest strength and weakness. A coin, two sides. Now, tonight, she has to hope that you’ll follow the plan. Even if it means leaving Max behind if she’s the one Vecna chooses.
Your eyes harden when you realize what Nancy is thinking. Without saying anything, you nod at her. The jut of your chin tells her that you’ll be fine. That she needs to trust you. 
Eddie’s trailer is only a few yards away, but the walk to it feels like decades. Steve guides and Nancy is close behind him. You stay back, walking beside Dustin. Your shoulders brush. His presence grounds you, reassures you that you will make it through the night. 
Dustin, sensing your fear, reaches for your hand. He extends his warmth to you, silently promising you that he will always be here. There isn’t anything left to say.
Steve opens Eddie’s door, turning the lights on and tossing his backpack to the ground. He eyes the rope that connects the trailer to the Upside Down, getting ready for the part of the plan that you honestly really hate.
“Be careful, please.” You urge him, uncomfortable that he has to be the first one to return to the hell that is the Upside Down. It makes sense, he’s the only one able to climb the rope up, but still. You’ve had shit luck these last few days.
“I’m always careful, angel.” Steve winks at you, rolling his sleeves up. “Here goes nothing.”
He climbs up quickly, years of being an athlete being put to use. Everyone watches anxiously. However, when Steve crosses through the gate and lands with a cheesy flip, you and Robin share a disgusted look. 
“What, does he want us to applaud?” She scoffs.
You shake your head. “Somethings I think he has an imaginary audience in his head.”
“Do you think they ever boo him?” “Not like we do.”
Nancy covers her mouth, muffling her laugh, and Robin snorts. You smile at the two of them, momentarily forgetting what’s to come.
“Alright,” Steve shouts up, tossing down Eddie’s old mattress. “Let’s go.”
You take a deep breath, steadying your nerves. Wiping your hands on your jeans, you place them on the rope and prepare for the inevitable torture that this will be. You’re pretty sure you’re bleeding again. 
“A little help?” You ask the others, motioning towards your injured leg and shoulder. “Sorta out of commission.”
Eddie grips your waist while Robin and Nancy gently hike your legs up. Together the three of them are able to carry you almost all the way up. Breathing through your nose, you grit your teeth and climb the rest of the way, wincing every few seconds. The pain is unbearable.
You really hope you don’t sound as pathetic as you look.
When you land on the mattress, small, black dots litter your vision. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”
Steve is already bending down, helping you up with ease. “And ruin Munson’s tidy home?”
Woozy from pain, you bat Steve away and wait for the others to join. Nancy comes next, then Robin, then Eddie and Dustin. Weapons get tossed down. Bodies land on the mattress with finalizing thuds. 
Outside, it’s just as cold as you remember it. Eddie and Dustin stay in front of the trailer. This is as far as they’re going. They aren’t leaving.
Roughly you pull at your brother. His body lands against yours, but the kiss your press to his forehead is gentle. You haven’t done this since he was a kid. Dustin flings his arms around you, nearly knocking all the air from your lungs. He squeezes you tight, as terrified as you are, and you feel tears in your eyes.
“We’ll come home,” your whisper is hoarse, rough and desperate. You bury your face in his mess of curls and kiss his head again. “The house won’t be empty.”
Dustin sniffles, too weak to hide his tears. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Your throat burns. How can you possibly leave him? 
Vision blurry with tears, Eddie manages to catch your attention as you cling onto your brother. The teen nods, lifting his pinky in the air to wave it at you, reminding you of his promise to you. He’ll protect Dustin. He swore it.
Reluctantly, you pull away from Dustin and wipe your face. “Please don’t die. Who knows what Mews’ ghost would do to you?” Dustin laughs wetly, wiping his own face as well. The thought of your childhood cat haunting his grave is enough to lessen the sting of letting you go. 
“If things here start to go south, I mean, at all, you abort.” Steve breaks the remorseful silence. He doesn’t want anyone getting hurt. He doesn’t want you losing anyone else. “Draw the attention of the bats, keep ‘em busy for a minute or two. We’ll take care of Vecna. Don’t try to be a hero or anything.”
His tone is harsh, but you know Steve means well. You also don’t want Dustin and Eddie anywhere near danger. As long as they stick to the plan, they’ll be fine. They have the quickest escape route and the most amount of protection.
“What Steve is trying to say is that you two better climb back through the gate the moment anything bad happens.” You look at the two boys. They stare at you, grim faced. “I mean it, okay? Go through the gate, don’t try anything else.”
“We’re the decoys, we get it.” Dustin rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry. You and Steve can be the heroes.”
“Look at us,” Eddie nudges your brother’s shoulder. “We’re not heroes.”
Your stomach twists. You hate how Dustin views his and Eddie’s position. They aren’t just decoys, they’re heroes in your eyes. They’re facing an army of bats all on their own, but you don’t dare say this out loud, afraid to encourage them. 
“Just…” your mouth is dry. “Just be safe, alright?”
“We will.” Eddie swallows. Then he pauses, his gaze darkens slightly. Looking back at you, he breathes out, “And make him pay.”
You and Steve look at each other. So much of Eddie’s life has been ruined by Vecna. Even if you all make it out of here alive, killing Vecna, there’s no guarantee that Hawkins will accept him back into the town. You understand the anger that resides within Eddie. The desire to kill the very thing that has destroyed everything he loves. 
You bite your lip. You’ve never made a promise you haven’t been able to keep. But this time you’re facing something bigger than anything you could’ve ever imagined. All this time you’ve tried convincing yourself that you’ll win. That everything will work out.
But you remember last summer. 
The mall. The fire and the deaths. Hopper. Billy. The power Vecna seems to hold, his claws that have sunk into you and Max. His threat to Nancy. The danger that Hawkins is in, up above where your mother sleeps peacefully. Unaware of what you’re sacrificing for her.
This is more than anything you’ve ever dealt with before. But a promise built on an unsteady foundation is all you can give Eddie. 
“Well will,” you echo his earlier promise.
Eddie smiles at you. The one you’ve grown to like, even find charming. Slanted and mischievous. The glint in his eyes never dimmed, even after everything. Through it all, he remained kind.
This is how you’ll always remember him.
– 
The further you walk away from Eddie and Dustin, the harder you have to force yourself to keep going. Your body is heavy, the weight slowing you down, pleading with you to go back. None of this feels right.
Steve’s hand on the small of your back is the only thing keeping your heart from collapsing. Robin’s smile helps, too. 
“You’d think this place gets less creepy the second time around.” She says, stepping over a root. “But I’m still pretty damn creeped out.”
“It isn’t the most pleasant place.” You agree. 
Robin steps over another root, looking back at you as she does so. “At least I’m here to protect you, Y/N. Pretty brave, don’t you think?” “Hey,” Steve warns. “Watch it.”
You knock your shoulder against his and smile apologetically at Robin. “Like always, I think you’re the bravest.”
She smiles proudly, throwing her fist in the air in excitement. However, after stepping over a root for what feels like the tenth time, her heart starts to pound. Looking around, all the trees suddenly look the same. Have you been here before?
“Not to alarm anyone, but I swear we’ve seen this tree before.”
“That’s impossible.” Nancy dimisses.
You agree. “We’re in the woods. All we’re going to see are trees.”
Robin tries to calm herself down, but ultimately fails. There are so many components to the plan, so many ways it can go wrong. “I mean, that would suck, right? Veca destroys the world because we got lost in the woods.”
“We aren’t lost–” You try to reason with her, but Robin is already running away in a panic. You scream at her, terrified of losing her. “Robin!”
“I’ll be back!”
You start to stumble after her. “Why does everyone want to separate?” You huff out, nearly tripping. “There’s safety in numbers! Come back!”
Nancy, seeing your fear for your friend and horrible coordination skills, steps in front of you. “I’ll go after her. You stay here with Steve.”
And then she’s gone, disappearing into the mass of branches alongside Robin. 
“They’ll be fine,” Steve reassures you, grabbing your hand. “They’re tough, even if Robin may lose her mind sometimes when she’s distressed.”
“I think we’re all slowly losing our minds.” You laugh, bitter.
Steve tightens his hand around yours. The two of you walk in silence for a while. The thunder above you serves as a reminder of where you are. The darkness is a threat. But you’re here, together. That’s all that Steve cares about in the end.
“Did you really mean what you said? Back at the cemetery?” He asks, clearing his throat in unease. The question has been on his mind ever since he heard your pleas for Vecna to take you instead of Max. 
He thinks of how adamant you’ve been to protect her. How you’re only here with him right now because Max wouldn’t let you blindly walk towards your death. 
The question strikes deep guilt within you, yet an exhaustion follows. You’re ashamed of how desperately you pleaded to die. Steve and Dustin had to hear you beg for your death. Lucas, too. 
You’re ashamed. Yet you wouldn’t take it back.
“I did.” You finally say. “I wanted him to take me.”
Steve already knew you’d say this. He’d been expecting anger to follow, to be furious with you for sacrificing yourself knowing he’d be left to pick up the pieces. 
But seeing the way you set your jaw and stare ahead, seeing the resolve that masks your face, the acceptance of your decisions, Steve can’t bring himself to be angry. Not at you. 
This is who you are.
“I won’t let anything happen to you.” Steve promises you again. He will always promise this to you. Over and over again, he will die saying these words to you. “I-I can’t lose you. I refuse to lose you.”
Your eyes remain downcast. 
“I know that this is how you love,” he grabs your jacket, begging you to look at him. “I know that I can’t let you lose the ones you love. Dustin, Max, Robin, Lucas, or El or Mike or Nancy. Hell, even Jonathan. I won’t let you lose them, but I won’t lose you, either.”
He understands, then. The selflessness within you and its selfish ways. Yet he doesn’t shy away or hiss at its venom. Steve opens his hands and allows the selfishness to stay there, warming it with his skin. 
You kiss him. Surprising both him and you, yet you melt together. Steve circles his arms around your waist, pulls you flush against him, and in the cynicism that surrounds you, there is still love. 
“Thank you,” you breathe against his lips. He’s wonderful. He loves you wholly, without any faults. Your kindness and its destructive ways; he accepts it all. “Thank you for understanding.”
And this, you believe, is the most selfless act a person can do. Steve’s understanding of why you need to do this, to sacrifice your life for Max’s, even if it means he risks losing you. 
“I should be the one thanking you,” Steve kisses you again, softer this time. Slower. 
You pull back, confused. “Why?” He pulls you in again. “I mean, I don’t know if you know this, but I was a pretty huge asshole back then.” You laugh softly, and Steve knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be. “You saw this good in me that I didn’t know existed. Right off the bat you saw through me, expecting more from me than anyone else ever did. I wouldn’t be who I am now without you. ”
“Steve…”
“And I’m sorry for thinking you didn’t see a future with me.” He continues, unable to stop now. This is everything he’s wanted to tell you ever since you allowed him into your life. “I know it’s stupid now, apologizing for our fight a week ago after the hell we’ve been through since then, but…”
He can’t believe he almost let something as small as a misalignment of where you’ll be a year from now jeopardize what you have. There is a string that attaches Steve to you, it brought you to him and tied your heart to his. 
“I meant what I said, Y/N.” Steve’s forehead presses against yours. “I’d wait forever if it means I can have forever with you.”
His eyes shine down at you, brown and warm. The honey you fell in love with when he pretended not to know your name, all to get you to laugh. 
“When your head went under the water, that night at Lover’s Lake, I thought you were dead.” Your voice shakes, remembering the fear that choked you. “For those thirty seconds, I thought you were dead, and it almost killed me.”
It was then that you realized how truly you can’t lose Steve. You’ve always known this, but to have his soul ripped from yours so suddenly, so permanently, there are no words to express the agony that poisoned you. 
Losing him would be the one thing you’d never recover from.  
“I don’t ever want to live through those thirty seconds again,” you’re crying. Steve is, too. He wipes a tear that falls, strokes your cheek, and you can’t bear the thought of a world without his touch. “I want forever with you, too. We’ll figure it out, but I’m not losing you. You have to be in my life, in whatever capacity. Whether you’re in a small, cramped apartment with me in New York or in Hawkins, waiting for me to come home.”
Your breath hitches. To think that a childish argument almost separated him from you. 
“As long as we come home to one another, it doesn’t matter.” 
Steve is quiet after you’ve said all this, and for a moment you’re scared you’ve said too much. Revealed too much of yourself, convinced him he’s gotten it all wrong, but then he cradles your face. His hands are soft, tender, the weight of them familiar against your skin. 
He kisses your forehead, and you exhale the last of your uncertainty. All that is left within your lungs is love. 
“It’s always been you,” Steve whispers, lips pressed above your brow. “The six kids. The family I’ve always wanted. Traveling the countryside. My dream, it’s always had you in it.”
You laugh, breathless and in love. “I know, honey.” Sickly sweet warmth cascades through you. Your lips find Steve’s, you kiss the smile off his face. He lets you. “I’ve always known it was going to be the two of us.”
Steve smiles, wide and bashful, and you know that this is where you’re meant to be, too.
“Hey, guys!” Robin breaks through the treeline, running back with Nancy right behind her. “Awesome news!”
“We aren’t lost.” Nancy cuts to the chase. “We think the Creel house is up ahead.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?” You step out of Steve’s arms, though your hand remains intertwined with his. “Let’s go face imminent doom.”
Nancy huffs out a laugh and Robin winces, though Steve squeezes your hand and is the first one to start walking. Together, the five of you descend deeper into the woods.
Unsurprisingly, the Creel house is even more terrifying in the Upside Down. Bats surround it, their screeches stinging your ears. Lightning flashes a deep, blood red and the thunder that follows causes your heart to drop.
You stand at the crest of the hill. There’s a light below you, its glow pure in the abandoned park where it resides. The same park that you told Erica to hide in as she waited for Max and Lucas to take their place. The light flashes.
It’s time for phase two.
– 
“Max is moving into phase two: distracting Vecna. Y/N, get ready.” Erica’s voice carries into the Upside Down.
Nancy, Robin, and Steve all turn to you. Grief and longing taint their faces. Your walkman hangs from Steve’s hand. He grips it tightly. Tension coats the air, nearly suffocating you; you can’t run anymore. 
No one says anything as you carefully lower yourself to the ground. It’s cold beneath you. Hard, unforgiving. You cross your legs, ignoring the deep ache of your wounds as you do so. You close your eyes. The storm is coming. 
“Take the bait, you son of a bitch.” You hear Nancy whisper. 
You or Max.
Take me, you silently beg. Take. Me. 
Silence settles over the group. Everyone waits with bated breath. No one knows who Vecna will choose. 
Steve stands nervously behind you, his hand on your walkman at all times. 
Just take me. Kill me instead of her. If you’ve watched me for so long, then just get it over with. Don’t make this easy, don’t be such a fucking coward.
The words echo in your head. Taunting Vecna, hoping their malice will be what saves Max. That he’ll choose you in the end, give you what you want. You’ll do whatever, say whatever you need, if it means Max will come home. 
Something pricks your skin. An uncomfortable, electric sensation coats your entire body. 
Vecna. 
For a moment you think he’s listened. You can feel his presence, the weight of him shadows in your mind. He’s here, he’s spared you mercy after prolonged cruelty. He’s chosen you and Max will survive. Her blue eyes will remain bright, her body alive.
Then it all comes crashing down.
“He chose Max. I repeat, he chose Max.” Erica says, voice cutting through the delusions you allowed yourself to get lost in.
Your ears are ringing. Somewhere in your body there is still oxygen that has not escaped you, but you cannot find it. He chose her. 
Robin radios Dustin and Eddie, you think she’s instructing them to move onto phase three, but her words are jumbled in your mind and you can’t hear anything besides the screaming in your head. 
He chose her.
“Y/N,” someone roughly grabs your shoulder. “Y/N, look at me.”
Nancy. She’s in front of you, kneeled down. She grabs your arms, her grip vicious. Her mouth moves. She’s saying something, the way her chest heaves makes you think she’s yelling.
Is she yelling at you?
“Y/N!” The ringing doesn’t subside, but you manage to look at Nancy. “We need to go!”
She’s right. You need to leave. There isn’t time to remember how to breathe. You know this. Somewhere in the distance there’s music. Guitar rifts through the wind, Eddie’s melody enrages the bats that swarm the Creel house. They’re gone in seconds, flying towards the sound, and you need to stick to the plan. 
Your head moves shakily, managing a small nod, and Nancy yanks you up with Steve’s help. She looks at Robin, and suddenly her and Steve grab your arms and force you to walk alongside Nancy. They aren’t aggressive as they do so, nor are they cruel. But you can’t afford to shut down. Not now.
Max won’t survive if you do. There’s no time to hesitate. No turning back.
You hope she finds the light.
Lightning flashes all around you, illuminating the Creel house as you stand before it. Steve opens the door first. The vines that cover the ground writhe at the disturbance. He shines his flashlight, his heart drops when he realizes just how infested the house is.
“Shit,” he breathes out. The floor is virtually impossible to walk across. “That’s not good.”
Then, because he has no other option, Steve starts jumping to any safe spot he can land on. He looks ridiculous as he does so, but for once you aren’t focused on that. Instead, you stare down at your injured leg and wince.
“Great,” your thigh is currently more blood than flesh. Jumping on it is quite literally the last thing you should be doing. “This is gonna hurt.”
“At least you have good balance?” Robin offers, though she doesn’t believe what she’s saying either. 
Nancy grabs your hand, then Robin’s. She looks at the two of you and smiles, trying her best to look reassuring. “It’s okay. You guys got this.”
The first jump hurts, setting the remaining nerves in your upper thigh on fire, but you can’t afford to scream or collapse. You have to remind yourself that the vines are interconnected. One wrong step, one miscalculated fall, and they’ll wrap viciously around you. 
It’s a slow, tedious process trying to get to the attic. The stairs are the hardest part. The vines twist with every step, slithering across the walls. Steve does his best to help you, offering you his hand for support, but you both hold your breath every time your foot slips. 
When you make it to the attic door, everyone readies their weapons. In one hand are your knives, in the other a molotov cocktail. Steve spins you around, digging into the backpack for an ax while Nancy grabs her gun. 
Your foot lifts, about to step forward, before the ground beneath you shakes violently. The entire house trembles, and Steve barely has enough time to catch everyone as all of you struggle not to fall. 
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You sneer, holding desperately onto Steve. This is all some sick, cruel joke. A poorly timed rupture in your rapture.
But then the house stills. Everything is quiet. You, Nancy, Steve, and Robin stare at one another, panting. Nobody moves. There’s a clarity in the air, a false sense of security. 
That’s when the first vine latches onto Robin. 
It folds around her ankle before tearing her away from you. She screams, so do you, and her body is thrown against the wall as more vines encase her limbs. They move fast, snake like, and everything unravels after that. 
“Steve! Y/N!” She screeches, terrified. “Nancy!” 
You’re at her side in a second, stabbing at the vines. Your knuckles are white as you grip your knives, your biceps strain. You aren’t letting them take Robin from you. “Hold on!”
Your teeth grit together in exertion, sawing as fast as you can. Steve and Nancy are on the other side, throwing their axes as hard furiously into the vines. But nothing works, they’re too thick, and you don’t realize that one of the vines has wrapped around your arm until it’s too late.
“Y/N!” Steve screams when your body gets lifted into the air. You try to fight it, to pry your arm away, but your legs give out and soon a second vine wraps around your other arm. Then a third, a fourth and a fifth. 
In seconds you’re pressed against the wall. 
“Steve!” Screams are ripped from your throat, you try to call out, to beg for your life, but the more you move, the tighter the vines constrict.
Steve calls after you, ramming into the wall as he tries to cut you loose. “I got you! I–”
The ax he’s holding gets yanked back by a vine. He’s launched into the air, body landing harshly next to yours several feet up the wall. He screams again, but his voice dies when a vine cuts off his breathing and chokes him.
Another vine coils around your throat and suddenly you can’t breathe. Your airway constricts. Sobbing, you try to reach out to Steve. You’re inches apart, his fingers are so close to yours that you can feel their warmth, but you can’t reach him
All you want to do is hold him. 
Nancy falls to the ground, the last victim. She gets thrown to the opposite wall, it all happens so fast that she doesn’t even have time to scream. 
Your vision blurs. You close your eyes.
This is how you’ll die. 
Far away from your home. No one will find your body down here. Dustin will come looking for you and he’ll face the same fate. He will die trying to find you. Vecna will destroy everything you’ve ever loved.
Your lungs burn, fighting for breath that they cannot get. Blood rushes to your head. You take your last breath. The sound of it echoes in your ears. 
Everything goes black. 
Your mother will be worried about you. 
I’m sorry.
– 
There’s a body beneath yours. 
It groans, gasping for air, but your vision is dark and you can’t see anything. Pain erupts in your wrist. You try to move it, but the sting makes you nauseous. 
There’s coughing all around you, but you’re too weak to suck the air back in. Everyone cowers for breath. The vines rescind, unwrapping themselves from your skin. There’s a body beneath you, and a gentle hand cups your cheek, you know it’s Steve.
“Breathe, angel.” His voice cracks, wounded. It hurts to speak, but he needs you to breathe. “Y/N, you have to breathe.”
Everything is numb. Your lungs are empty; you can’t remember how to fill them. Steve coaxes your lips open, blows air in your face, does whatever he can think of to get you to breathe, before finally, miraculously, you inhale sharply and begin coughing. 
“Are you alright?” Steve asks you softly, rubbing your back as you cough. “It’s okay. Take your time.”
Your throat is raw. It takes everything within you to speak, but you want to. You need to. There’s only one thing you want to say. “We have to make him pay.”
The anger is back, and Steve’s jaw sets. Vecna has hurt you. He’s hurt everyone you love. He’s chosen Max for his final death and your fury threatens to devour the sanity you have left. You’re tired of his shitty mind games.
It’s like what you promised Eddie: you have to make Vecna pay for what he’s done to you all.
“I don’t believe in a higher power,” Robin rasps, breaking you from your thoughts. “Or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.”
Nancy cocks her gun, already walking towards the attic door. “Then we better not waste it.”
“Phase four.” Steve says, steadying himself against you. 
“Flambe.” Robin finishes. 
You flick your knives out. “Let’s finish this.”
– 
Vecna’s body hangs in the attic, thick, gruesome vines attach him to every crevice. He’s unmoving, eyes closed, and seeing his body up close makes you want to gag. He’s a terrible, vile creature. 
But Dustin had been right: Vecna is in the same trance-like state that El goes into when she uses her powers. 
Without being told to, Robin sets down her bag. All the molotov cocktails are inside. Everyone grabs one, silent. Almost as if you’re all too afraid to break the spell he’s under. You only get one shot at this. 
Steve has the lighter. You hold the first cocktail up, and he looks at you, eyes shining. He asks you if you’re ready, if this is what you really want, and you nod. At your signal, Steve throws the cocktail into the air.
The bottle shatters against Vecna’s body. The flames engulf him, the impact of the blast so powerful that it knocks you and everyone else back. There’s an awful scream as Vecna’s vines begin to snap from the sudden heat.
Your screams mix with his, throwing another cocktail with every ounce of strength you have left in you. You’re bruised and bloodied and exhausted, but you think of Max. You think of Billy and Hopper. Eddie and how his life will never be the same again. You think of Chrissy, Patrick and Fred. All the innocent lives that have been lost for a cause that you despise. 
This is for them. For Hawkins. For your home.
The last of the vines die withering away, and Vecna’s body falls to the ground. He stands, body on fire, and stalks towards you. His eyes are only on you. 
Robin lights the final cocktail and the force of it sends Vecna stumbling back. It’s enough to break through his chest, and he’s weak. Weaker than you’ve ever seen him. 
“Shoot him, Nancy!” You cry, ready for this all to end. 
And she does.
The first blast pierces Vecna’s skin. The second, third, and fourth diminish him to ruined pieces. With every shot, Nancy steps forward, drawing him out, and you’re right behind her. Vecna releases a deep, furious roar. The sound of it sinks into your bones, but you no longer fear him. 
He isn’t worth your fear. 
Nancy raises her gun again. She deals the final blow, sending Vecna through the old, rotted wood of the house into the dark night. He falls, screaming, before everything is quiet. 
The roar of the fire that surrounds you is the only sound. You all stand in the attic, numb. None of it feels real. All that’s left of Vecna is a hole in the house, his body far below, sprawled on the concrete outside. 
“Did we…?” You’re afraid to jinx it, to somehow bring him back. But this has to be it. There isn’t any other way for this to end.
Nancy doesn’t say anything. Instead, she turns around, running back down the stairs. No one has to ask why she does this; you all know. There has to be a body. There must be tangible proof that you’ve won.
Everyone runs outside.
Vecna’s body is gone. 
The only indication that he’d been there is an outline of flames that molt the grass below it. But there is no body.
“No,” you run down the steps, kicking through the grass as you look around. You’re frantic, sprawling on the ground as if you’ll find him buried beneath the ash. “No, where is he?”
You killed him. He was on fire. Nancy put more than five bullets in him. He fell from the attic, a height that alone should’ve killed him. Where the fuck is he? You did everything right. Followed every step of the goddamn plan.
“This doesn’t make any sense.” Something is wrong, you just don’t know what. Steve and the others join you. They’re quiet, fearing what you’re refusing to even consider. Four deaths. That had been all Vecna needed. But you killed him. “None of this makes sense, unless… Unless he–”
No. 
A bell chimes. 
The sound sends you to the ground. Your knees give out, collapsing under the weight of it all. “No!” Your scream is loud, guttural. Tearing from your chest as it tears out your vocal chords. There’s blood in your mouth and you want it to choke you. 
It’s Max. 
He got her. He killed her. 
All of a sudden there are arms around you. Someone carries you back up the stairs, back into the house that has taken everything from you. Steve holds you to his chest as he, Nancy, and Robin stare at the grandfather clock before them. 
It’s alive.
“Four chimes,” Nancy’s voice can barely be heard above your crying. “Max…”
The realization settles upon all of you. You’re in hysterics, no one can calm you down. You’re crying so hard that you can’t breathe, but you don’t want to breathe anymore. 
Grief pours from you in cruel, bitter waves. All you do is cry, barely even registering the earthquake that follows your devastating loss. 
Steve has to set down your crying figure in order to stabilize Robin and Nancy. You curl into yourself on the ground, making yourself as small as possible. There is too much. It’s all too much. Your head digs into the floor beneath you, cutting you, and your tears mix with the blood. 
Over and over again the clock chimes. Like laughter. His laughter. 
He won. 
Steve holds onto the stairs as the earthquake worsens. He has to crawl over to you; you’re rocking back and forth on the ground, your cries heard even above the cracking of the earth. His hand wraps around your weeping body and he won’t let you go. Steve tries to shield you from fallen debris, the world is falling apart, but you don’t move.
You don’t care anymore. 
It’s always your fault in the end. You lose everyone eventually; you get them killed. You can never save them. You will never be able to save them.
She’s gone. 
Max is gone. 
– 
The days pass. You’ll come to remember them in fragments. 
Returning to Eddie’s trailer and finding Dustin crying over his dead body. Prying him away, your tears mixing with your brother’s when you have to tell him that something has happened to Max.
Finding Hawkins in flames. Seeing the deep gashes in the town you grew up in. Stumbling to the Creel house, racing side by side with the ambulances for everyone within the once quiet town, and collapsing again when you find no one there. 
Going home. Your mother’s arms breaking you. 
Steve. How he never left your side throughout it all. Holding Dustin’s hand, unable to stop crying. 
Visiting Max in the hospital the day after. The stench of sterilizer and surgical tools. Seeing her lifeless body still alive. The countless other bodies in the building that died due to your failure. 
When the news broadcasters announce Hawkins to be cursed. The burden that you can’t tell them that they’re right. The guilt seeing your baby brother’s limp. Another scar he will carry with him forever. 
All the hurt in the town. The pain. 
The collapse of your home; they’re calling it an earthquake. 
It all comes to you in flashes. 
Hawkins high school gets converted into a donation center for everyone dishoused. Visiting it is your idea. You can’t bear the thought of spending any more time inside your home knowing there are hundreds of others who no longer have a place to call home. 
“Anything else?” You place your old comics into one of the boxes you’re donating. 
Dustin shakes his head. “That’s the last of it.”
He hasn’t left your side in days. He still keeps your walkman on him, though neither of you know if it’s important anymore. Dustin is afraid that you’ll never put the headphones on again, even if it could save your life. 
You tape the boxes up, carefully writing down their contents on one of the flaps. Your fingers are scabbed. Your wrist is stiff, locking up if you move it too suddenly. 
Books.
Bedding. 
Clothing.
Anything you can offer, you’d give it all to Hawkins if you could.
Steve picks you up. He helps you put the boxes in the back of his car, gentle with you as always. “You guys ready?”
You nod weakly, and Steve kisses your forehead, careful of the cuts that litter it. He helps you into the car. Turns on your favorite songs. Tries to distract you from the wreckage that encases Hawkins as he drives; you keep your head down. You can’t look at any of it. 
Nancy is waiting in her driveway with Robin, a pile of their own boxes at their feet. They greet you kindly, warmly, with an air of fear that you’ll break, and you’re too tired to pretend. 
“I found some more of your old stuff in the attic,” Mrs. Wheeler walks out of the garage, smiling despite the circumstances. “I think it’s lovely you’re doing this, Y/N.”
“We all just want to help,” you politely respond, staying near Steve’s side. 
Nancy picks up one of the stuffed animals in the box and pouts, seeing her old favorite toy. You’re about to tease her, try to laugh, when a pizza delivery van speeds down the block. 
“Someone order a pizza?” Mrs. Wheeler asks.
“Not that I recall.” You mumble, confused as your eyes follow the car. Every business in Hawkins is shut down right now. It doesn’t make sense for there to be a pizza delivery.
It parks in front of the Wheeler’s, and when you see who steps out, you drop the box you’re holding and run towards them. 
Will and El throw themselves around you, hugging you tightly. Dustin joins, and holding them again, having them here with you, makes everything okay for a moment. Your kids are okay, they’re safe. 
“Are you okay?” El asks you, pulling away slightly. Her eyebrows knit in concern when she notices the cuts on your face and how red your eyes are. “Did he get you?”
Somehow you aren’t surprised that she knows about Vecna. 
“I’m okay, sweetie.” Her hair is buzzed. Already you miss the long strands she once had. You don’t know what she’s been through this last week, but you hope, more than anything, that she hasn’t lost her kindness. “I-I’m okay.”
Your voice catches at the end, and immediately El understands that something else happened.
“We were worried about you,” Will doesn’t let you go. “When El told us what was happening, Jonathan almost lost his mind.”
Jonathan.
Hearing his name makes you remember everything. Instinctively your eyes find him. They always do. Jonathan has Nancy in his arms, but when he senses your eyes on him, he looks up at you. He will always be able to find you. Your heart stops, looking into his once familiar brown eyes.
Jonathan rushes towards you, as he always does, and his arms around you feel like home. 
“Bug,” he breathes against your neck, holding onto you tighter than he ever has before.
You melt when the nickname drips from Jonathan’s lips. It’s been so long since someone has called you that. It’s been even longer since you’ve held Jonathan like this. 
“God, what happened to you?” His eyes roam your body, catching on your bandaged shoulder and thigh. The cuts on your cheek. You try to ease his concern, grabbing his hands, but Jonathan starts to ramble. “We-we tried to get back to Hawkins as soon as we could. The second El told me you were in danger I–”
He inhales shakily, presses his face deeper into your neck. “All I could do to stay sane was think of your voice. Of our last phone call.”
You bury your face into Jonathan’s messy hair. You’re crying, but for what, you don’t know. His scent is bittersweet. His arms are reminiscent of what was once. You’ve missed him, but nothing will ever be the same again.
“I need to see her.” El’s raised voice causes you to let go of Jonathan. She’s standing in front of Dustin, arms crossed, and you know he’s told her the truth. “Take me to Max.”
“What’s wrong with Max?” Mike slings an arm over your shoulders, putting all his body weight against you in greeting. “Miss me, Henderson?”
You move his arm down, forcing him into a hug. You want to remember these next few seconds. The remnants of his childhood before it comes crashing down on him. “I did, Wheeler.”
Mike hugs you back, but when he sees the distress on El’s face, he lets you go and walks towards her. “What? What’s going on?”
Dustin is the one who breaks the news. Shamefully, you know it should’ve been you, but you haven’t been able to say Max’s name in days. There’s too much guilt, remorse, resentment that it hadn’t been you. 
It’s a mess of tears and panic when Dustin tells them. Will covers his mouth, holding back tears, while El storms inside the pizza delivery van as Mike demands that Jonathan take him and everyone else to see Max. They don’t believe any of it. El told them that she saved Max. 
“Are you coming, Y/N?” Jonathan holds his keys up. Everyone else, including Nancy, are already inside. A boy your age, you think his name is Argyle, waves at you from the passenger seat. 
So much has changed. Unable to form the right words, you shake your head at Jonathan. Yet even after months apart, he understands your unspoken words. You can’t see Max again. Not yet. It’s too soon, too much for you to bear.
Seeing her limp body once was enough. 
“We’ll be back,” Jonathan hugs you one last time, pressing a kiss to your hairline as he lets you go. “I promise.”
Steve steps forward then, wrapping an arm around your waist as he stands next to you. The two teens lock eyes, Steve gives Jonathan a cool, steely look. He remembers what you’ve told him. He remembers Jonathan’s words to you before everything collapsed. 
Sensing his anger, you squeeze Steve’s arm. Not here, you beg him. Not now.
Exhaling slowly, Steve offers you his hand. You take it, allowing him to walk you back to his car as the others leave.
– 
The donation center is packed. There are so many people inside, sitting on makeshift cots and pinning missing posters of their loved ones to a bulletin board. Nurses tend to the injured. Mothers cradle their children. The sight makes you ache. All these people, displaced by what they believe to be an earthquake.
You set the boxes down at the main dropoff table, and though the kind employee praises you for how organized the boxes are, you can’t help feeling that you should be doing more. 
In the hundreds of injured and grieving people you’ve seen, you’ve only noticed a handful of workers. 
“Is there any way we can help?” You ask the woman, looking around with a frown.
“Truly anything.” Robin says. “We just… we want to help.”
The woman seems surprised, and you wonder how rare it is for kindness to still be in a town that has known nothing but turmoil these last few years. 
You and Steve get placed sorting clothing while Robin is assigned to the food station. Dustin passes out cups of water for everyone. It isn’t much, but the work is meaningful and it eases the tension in your chest. 
“So…” Steve folds a t-shirt. “Can I ask about Jonathan yet?”
Picking up tattered jeans, you place them in the trash pile. “Might as well.”
“How do we feel about his sudden arrival? I mean, the giant pizza statue on the van was a little dramatic for me.”
He’s trying to keep the conversation light, which you appreciate him for, but you also know that Steve is doing this because he’s worried about you. And, you know, he’s unnerved seeing Jonathan. There’s still a lot left unsaid between you. 
“It’s… a lot.” You admit, struggling to find the right words to convey how you feel. “I’m relieved he’s okay, and I really am happy to see him again, but I… I understand, you know. If you’re upset.”
Steve scrunches his face. “I’m not upset, just… I don’t know. Annoyed with the guy.”
“So you’re upset.”
“Okay, no–”
“Is that Vickie with Robin?” You unintentionally cut Steve off, too surprised by the fact that mere feet away from you is Robin and Vickie making sandwiches together. And they’re laughing. “Are they talking together?”
Steve whips his head around, disbelieving, but lets out a low whistle when he sees Robin making easy conversation with Vickie. “Well I’ll be damned. Who knew our girl had it in her?”
The Jonathan talk lays forgotten as you and Steve admire your friend. You share a secret smile, remembering your own first awkward, bantering conversations together. There is so much pain in this town, and yet you watch as love still blossoms within it.
Across the room, you see Dustin talking to an older man. They’re deep in discussion and you notice your brother’s shaking shoulders. He’s crying. The older man is, too. You narrow your eyes, unsure if you should approach, but when Dustin hands the man Eddie’s old guitar pick, you realize who it is. 
“I’ll be back.” You kiss Steve’s cheek, excusing yourself. 
He tries to ask where you’re going, but you’re already gone. Your brother needs you right now.
Walking over, you stand to the side and allow Dustin and Eddie’s uncle some privacy. While there are so many things you want to say to the man, like how kind his nephew had been, how brilliant his mind was and how you’ll never forget the smile that never left his face, this is for Dustin and Dustin only. 
Eddie was his dearest friend. There is no greater loss than that.
Whatever Mr. Munson tells Dustin will be good for him; it will be the closure you can’t give him yourself. 
An arm wraps around you. You lean into the touch, knowing who it is without even having to look. You rest your head on Steve’s shoulder, exhausted, but content with the warmth he offers you. The two of you keep an eye on Dustin, ready to catch him in case he falls. 
Eventually Mr. Munson leaves, and you take his place next to Dustin. The second you sit down, the boy cries into your shoulder. Tears soak your shirt and your brother’s frail body shakes. “I-I had to tell him that Eddie died a hero.”
“I know,” your head falls against his.
“They’ll never know what he did for this town.” Sobs wrack Dustin’s body. “It isn’t-it isn’t fair.”
You rub his back, brush his hair out of his face. “None of it is fair, Dust.”
He cries even harder and you try to shield him from the world with your body. You try to block out the grief, the bitterness that follows death. How empty it can leave you. An emptiness that can swallow a person whole. 
You won’t let it happen to Dustin. 
“We’re gonna get through this together, alright? You and me, just like it’s always been. I promise–” Your words catch in your throat, tears forming in your own eyes. There’s so much you want to promise your brother, to swear that will come true, but you’re just as hurt and lost as he is. 
“I promise,” you make the words come out. “That everything will be okay. We’ll-we’ll be together, heal and do whatever we can to make everything okay. I-I’ll never leave you, you hear me? I won’t leave you again.”
Though Dustin still cries, his breathing slows. 
“Together. We’ll face this together.” As you talk, you notice a crowd of people swarming by the windows. They’re looking at something, staring and gasping. Your voice grows weak, anxious that something bad is about to happen. “It’ll… it’ll all work out.”
Dustin notices the crowd, too. He looks to you for answers, but you’re silent. You don’t know what’s happening. There’s a murmur in the crowd, hushed, urgent. It sets your skin on edge. Even more people get up now, some are even running outside, and every nerve in your body is screaming at you to run. 
Suddenly the room darkens, as if a giant cloud has covered the sky. Your stomach twists, and you get up, following after the crowd. Bodies shove each other, people blindly walk through the haze of whispers and uncertainty. 
When you step outside, all you see is ash.
The ash falls like snowflakes, beautiful and pure. There’s a softness to it, something delicate in the ruin it leaves. Dustin knocks against you, staring up into the sky with the same dread that you feel. The crowd is murmuring with glee, whispering excitedly about what they believe to be snow; but they’re wrong.
You’ve always won in the end. 
You’ve come to believe this to be a fact. You once told Steve that you believed you used up all your luck. Saving Will, closing the gate over and over again. The penance was the deaths from this summer for the greedy way you abused luck.
Steve had reminded you that there was still good leftover in the bad. That there will always be softness in the destruction, a reason for hope. That you will always find a way out, that luck and love were two sides of the same coin.
You’ve always won in the end. 
Yet, lost in the swarm of people, you watch as the sky begins to fall and Hawkins descends into the Upside Down. 
You no longer believe it.
[END OF SEASON FOUR]
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kingtomura · 9 months ago
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Cat and mouse
synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc
You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 
“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 
She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”
“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 
She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 
You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 
“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 
“Thank you.”
“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  
“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 
It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”
That hurt the most. 
You had no idea what he was up to. 
Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 
Maybe he’s found someone else. 
The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 
You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 
God, what if that was why it was so easy?
You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 
Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 
To your surprise, he hadn’t. 
He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 
You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 
There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 
“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 
“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 
Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 
Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 
There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 
If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 
You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.
It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.
You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 
“We should probably get ready now, huh?”
Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.
“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 
—-
Girl’s night was a bust.
The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.
In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 
You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 
The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 
One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 
The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 
You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.
You had fallen asleep with everyone else.
The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.
Tomura. 
Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 
Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.
Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 
When are you coming to get your shit?
I’m tired of waiting.
And I’m deleting our farm btw. 
The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 
But the third message…
Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?
This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.
Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 
Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.
Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 
There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.
After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 
You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”
He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 
Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”
Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”
“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 
“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”
Of course you knew that. 
You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 
Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 
So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 
“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 
Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.
“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.
You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.
It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 
But things are always easier said than done. 
You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 
He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”
“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.
“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.
You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”
“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.
It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 
“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”
“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”
Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 
“Could've fooled me.”
“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 
“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”
“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”
“Bullshit—”
“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 
He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”
“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?
Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 
“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”
And there it is.
Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 
You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 
He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 
Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 
His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”
You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 
“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”
He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 
Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 
“You’re fucking annoying.”
“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 
He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 
The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 
You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  
It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 
But that was not how you were.
And he loved it.
You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.
Push and pull. 
Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 
“Stop walking away from me!” 
He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 
You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 
“What are you going to do about it?” 
The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 
You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 
You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.
It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 
Cat and mouse. 
You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 
“Not so tough now, are you?”
It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 
Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 
He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”
You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”
His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 
Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 
You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 
Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 
He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”
“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”
“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”
There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 
His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 
The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 
“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 
“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.
There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.
The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 
You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 
He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 
The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.
“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 
The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 
“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”
It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 
Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 
He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 
“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 
Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 
You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 
So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 
“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.
He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 
He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 
You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 
There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.
It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.
Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 
“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 
“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”
And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 
“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”
He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 
“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 
Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 
“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 
You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  
It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 
“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.
“Tomura, I—“
“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 
“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.
“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”
“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”
You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 
He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 
The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 
He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 
The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.
You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 
It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 
Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 
“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”
“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 
“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.
“You told me to go.” 
“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”
“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”
“I just said I didn’t—“
“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 
You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 
He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”
“But you’ve never said it!”
“I show it!”
“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 
He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”
You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 
“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”
You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.
“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 
Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 
“Tomura…” 
“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”
You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.
“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”
Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 
“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 
And it’s the truth. 
Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.
He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 
It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 
You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.
3K notes · View notes
winterarmyy · 1 year ago
Text
Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part II
That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.
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Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra
Words: 4.2k++ (of fluff and filth)
Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader
Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, dub con, fingering, pussyjob, thighjob, soldat being manipulative yet maintains to be so loving at the same time, another round of google translated russian, filthy praises, soldat just want to make you feel good, wet & messy everywhere, loud & whiny soldat, and at the end of the day, despite the manipulation, the soldat just want take care of you.
A/N: omfg 1k++ notes from the previous chapter?! i didn't think this would get so much attention that it had, tbh. Like wtf. What did I do to deserve this 😭 Thank you so much for your support! I can't even begin to tell you guys how much joy y'all bring me. So, I decided write more of our soft soldat for all of us cause let's be honest, we need him so bad. It's gonna be 3 part mini series. I hope you enjoy!
Read my other works here: Masterlist
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The darkness in his sight seemed permenant, at least until it transitioned into a dim-litted scenery. He recognized softness of the bed, and the blank white color of the ceiling.
He was in his room.
But, when he realized the emptiness of his bed, it was as if a force jolted through his body, yanking his lying figure into a sitting position. The dead silent was broken by the sound of his gasping breaths, followed closely by the beats of his pounding heart.
"Родная (darling)?" His voice shivered in his shaky breath.
When the silent replied his call, cold sweat drenched the roots of his hair. He almost jumped into a defensive position when the door of the walk-in wardrobe seemingly opened on its own.
But to his relief, her voice broke the silence, "Soldat?" Y/N peeped out her head when she heard his voice but the moment she saw the panic in his blue eyes, she quickly made her way towards him.
As soon as she was standing near enough, the soldat pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing his face into her stomach a relief washed over him. Y/N ran her hands through his hair as she coaxed, "I'm here, I'm here."
He hummed in reply, "You're here." He repeated as a sigh escaped his lips.
Y/N didn't know why she expected that Bucky would be back after their "sleepover" but it was a shock for her when she woke up that morning with several tender kisses on her face by the soldat, who was very much still present.
"So, you're saying he's is not the winter soldier?" Sam cocked his head to the side as he tried to wrap up the overwhelming information thrown by Shuri.
The woman rolled her eyes, "No, I didn't say that. I said, he is not fully relapsed into the winter soldier." She reclarified.
"How was this possible? I thought he was gone?" Y/N asked as her worried gaze glanced over Bucky's unmoving figure in the examination pod.
Shuri sighed as she approached her, they watched Bucky's peaceful features resting through the glass, "We only remove the trigger that were attached to a switch to activating the winter soldier from Bucky; the soldat was never gone."
Y/N's eyebrows creased as the wakandan continued to explain, "It's like removing the toggle from a light switch; you can't turn it on just like that. But if, let say we use a toothpick to poke through the hole and trigger the switch, then..."
Steve intercepted her words before she could finish, "...then it'll be turned on." The woman nodded, "Precisely."
"That does not explain why Bucky is partially... not himself." Tony quickly probed as he casually threw a red M&M's into his mouth.
Steve paced back and forth in the room as he tried to replay the day of the incident, "Maybe it has to do something in that Hydra base that we raided. Bucky did look troubled on the jet home, then when we arrived he suddenly went berserk, looking for something; well... someone". He stopped as he threw a knowing look to Y/N.
"Yeah, why he is suddenly acting lovey dovey with y/n if the soldier was triggered? I don't get it." Sam crossed his arms against his chest as he questioned.
A smile almost cracked on Shuri's lips when they mentioned that, "This is just a hypothesis; but I reckoned that Bucky knew that the soldier is slowly taking over his mind and he didn't want to let himself vulnerable, exposed for people to give him orders."
Shuri leaned her back towards the table as she continued, "So instead, he latched himself on something else, to act as his mission. Some kind of desire that's buried as deep as where his winter soldier persona was concealed."
"So, you're saying that grumpy old man's deepest, darkest desire is to suffocate y/n with kisses and cuddles?" Tony quirked his eyebrow as he chewed on the sweet chocolate snack; there was certainly sarcasm in his voice.
Y/N intictively took the nearest object within her reach, which turns out to be a thick manual book, and struck Tony on his arms. The man repulsed with a confused frown on his forehead, mouthing a soundless, "What?"
Y/N mouthed back, "Shut up!" while Sam chuckled amusingly at the silent banter between them.
Ignoring the back and forth between Y/N and Tony, Shuri answered, "Well, those urges are derived by a certain key emotion, which I'm sure put you that genius title of yours into a good use, then you should've known the answer already."
"Love." Steve's revelation cuts through before Tony could throw his banter at Shuri, "He loves y/n." He repeated his words as if all of this made absolute sense.
Which only made Y/N stop on her tracks, "He loves me?" she questioned herself but everyone in the lab can practically see the confusion on her face.
Shuri agreed to Steve's deduction, "Yes, perhaps. I supposed that is why he is protective over her and like he said, wanted to suffocate her with kisses and cuddles." Shuri pointed at Tony as she return his sarcasm.
"Wait wait wait." Y/N held her hands forward as she stepped in the middle of the conversation, "Why are we casually agreeing to that as if it's normal? I mean, I know I'm not a genius but that is absolutely ridiculous. Bucky doesn't love me, as a friend maybe, yeah, but not like that." She couldn't help but to blush as she recalled the way the soldat hands and lips mapped on her skin.
"Yes, you are absolutely not a genius, especially when you are one of the two idiots who's in love with each other." Tony casually laid out the fact as everybody in the lab nodded in agreement, including Steve who she thought would back her up.
Y/N shook her head in denial and revert the conversation back to its original destination, "So, how do we get Bucky back?"
Shuri opened the terminal screen as she watched the progress of her observation, "Well, we're still figuring that out." Y/N's shoulders slumped in defeat.
"But what I can say is, it is best to let him stick with y/n for now." Shuri concluded.
They took the whole day running tests on the soldat, which he obediently cooperate as long as Y/N was there to hold his hand.
Between resting for breakfast, lunch and snack break; the soldat spend his time to be forced to put to sleep and out of it through out the day.
Right after dinner, and the final test run, he was just left to sleep off the rest of the night and Y/N finally had time to prep herself to sleep, when she heard Bucky's voice from the bed.
"Just finished showering. Hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt, they kinda lock me in here." Y/N frowned when she thought back on how the team managed to bring most of her things over but then forgot to pack her signature iron man pyjamas.
A fond smile curved on the soldat's lips as his gaze raked over her small body wrapped in his baggy shirt, which fell right at the middle of her naked thighs.
Y/N swore that there saw a flash of Bucky in his gleaming eyes. Or maybe she was just being delusional at this point.
She let him pulled her by the hand as he slowly brought her towards him. In no time, he had them both on the comfy matteress with soldat's back propped up against the headboard, while his arms found their place around Y/N's waist, cocooning her in between his legs.
It amazes her to think how comfortable she was, being this intimately close to him; when Bucky would've been too cautious to even approach her platonically.
So she decided rather than being constantly hesitant around the soldat, she thought that she might as well just enjoy the moment as it presented itself.
Y/N's exploring eyes stopped to the side of the bed when she saw a book next to the night lamp. She reached her hand as she leaned closer.
"Prince Caspian." She whispered to herself as her fingertips grazed across the title, "The Chronicles of Narnia, huh?"
It makes sense that Bucky would be interested to read this series, knowing his quirky yet undying brag about having the experience of reading The Hobbit back when it first came out.
Y/N couldn't help but to smile to herself, especially when her train of thoughts stopped at those memories of him.
She lifted the book towards the soldat, "What do you think, Soldat? Want me to read it to you?" She asked as the soldat rested his chin on her shoulder, peering at the deep blue, hard covered book.
He briefly hummed before replying, "Yes, please." The soldat loved the idea of being able to hear more of his darling's beautiful voice. It was his favourite thing in the whole world. Well, one of the things but surely all them were involving her.
Y/N settled herself as she leaned back against his sturdy chest. One of her legs were bent up towards her chest while the other was lazily thrown over his, spreading them as far as they could go.
The soldat placed light kisses on the back of her head all the way to the side of her neck, relishing at how soft her skin was and how good she smelled. The quiet of the room only enhanced the presence of her calming voice, luring him to close his eyes as he drowned himself the melody of it.
Minutes gone by and it was passing the half hour mark.
It wasn't that the soldat find the story boring or her voice drowsying, but he was feeling rather needy, almost greedy, to have more of Y/N to the point that he got slightly distracted.
She had been such a darling to him ever since he came home; fed him, letting him touch her, kiss her, pamper her, held her hand during those long lab tests, having her in his arms through the night and against his nightmare, and making him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.
And yet, she didn't get anything in return.
His darling deserved to feel good and he wanted to give it to her so badly that he was getting distracted from the story that she was passionately reading for him.
Soldat's hands carefully explored her body, from the side of her waist then slowly down to her naked thighs. Too engrossed with the plot, she almost instinctively opened her legs wider for him. Though she never intended to do so, her actions surely were quite sinful.
He used the opportunity to glide his metal hand deeper into her inner thighs, lightly caressing up higher towards where her thighs meet, until the tip of it brushed over her core.
Now that's when she realized the situation, her head shoot up to face him. The book in her hand almost thrown to the side as she reached to grab his, gripping it tightly as she tried to pull him away.
Failing to stop him, she whispered "W-what are you doing?" She stuttered as she felt his fingers slide across her clothed pussy.
Soldat looked down at the smaller, "Wanna make you feel good, мое Родная (my darling)" he innocently whispered back as his dangerous fingers provoked her.
When her silence remained, the soldat lifted the corner of his eyebrow in curiosity. Was she hesitating? He sees it as an opportunity to coax her to his will.
He cooed softly when he explained, "You deserve it, darling. Deserve it so much. Please, let me?" He sounded so desperate when he begs like that.
It feels like her whole body was burning, his touch were igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, but she couldn't help it.
Oh, how his fingers works wonders even with the thin fabric were blocking his access.
Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked down to her thighs. The way she was grabbing onto his hands as he moved around; it looked like she was guiding him to touch her more.
The soldat knew she was close to be tempted to submit, "I promise it'll feel good. So good." he almost growled in her ears as he saw patch of the dampness started to appear on the center her panties.
"Don't." she whispered quietly, but that only made the soldat to futher seduce her as he add more pressure on his middle finger.
She hesitated for a while before she slurred "D-don't stop." her head thrown back into his neck, finally giving in to his promise of pleasure.
Lust took over the soldat, "Gonna make you feel so good, Родная (darling). Promise gonna treat your pretty pussy right. Make her cum so hard." He whispered lovingly as his breath sends shivers down her spine.
The soldat groaned, dropping his head to her neck to press open mouthed kisses on her untainted skin as he slipped his hand into her panties.
"Already wet for me?" He chuckled, biting his lip before his long finger slid between her folds.
"Hmmm." she tried to suppressed her voice as his finger moved up and down so deliciously.
"Of course," He said with a smile. He went on to tease her sensitive clit with slow, torturous circles, which force her to close her eyes, biting down on her lip to suppress a shrill moan.
"Родная (darling)," the soldat cooed. "You can scream as loud as you want. Let me hear those pretty noises, yeah?"
Y/N thought to reply but her own breath hitches when that one finger that has been circling her hole finally dips in, proceeding to spread her open for more.
She moaned louder this time, "Soldat..." The movement was completely involuntary; when her hand latch on to hold his wrist as her thighs try to squeeze shut at the feeling of him pressing another finger into her wet stretching cunt.
But, of course he was quick to spread her legs back open, preventing her to shy away.
"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.
The soldat nibbled on the shape of her ears as he hushed, "There, there darling. Open up for me." His two long, metal fingers thrusts and rubs the inside of her pulsating pussy, occasionally scissoring her cunt as he took her right hand into his fleshed one; intertwining her fingers with his.
Her other hand scrambled to dug into his thigh as she arched her back, grinding her hips down against his metal hand. The soldat smirked proudly at her reaction, moving his fingers a little faster, a little rougher. Just enough to make her whine and move against him in search of more stimulation.
She cried out as his thumb circled her clit, "Ahhh fuck" she moaned shamelessly, while his eyes followed each jerk of her body as if he was memorizing it all.
"Hmm, you're so wet, Родная (darling). So warm too." The soldat hissed as he felt his hand were soaking by the minute. The muffled sound of his thrusts against her wet heat filled the room.
He looked down to her hidden pussy; his hand covered by the panties she was wearing, "Look down baby, open your eyes and look down." he lured her with low groan.
Completely loss in bliss, she complied without asking any question. Both the soldat and Y/N was looking at the same sight, the same shape of his hand clinging tight to the fabric, barely hidden under the thin layer of her panties, moving up and down; in and out of her pussy.
Somehow, watching the way it moves made her closer to her orgasm.
In one swift move, the soldat lifted her slightly to pull the barrier off by the waistband. An animalistic groan rumbled from deep within his chest, when he was completely revealed to the sinful sight of her naked pussy.
So wet and full with his fingers.
The soldat teasingly entered a third finger into her, stretching her out so good that she felt tears prick her eyes. Y/N's head snapped forward along with a buck of her hips. "S-soldat,, ahhhh" Her whines grew louder than before and she felt the flame in her stomach growing yet it wasn’t enough.
"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.
He pressed his thumb harder against her swollen clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he pumped his fingers knuckle deep in and out of her cunt, causing her to gasp from the sensation.
He twisted and curled his fingers around to find that delicious spot inside of her, giving that delicious friction as he fucked her open. The noises coming from her pussy were so lewd, so crude and it only spurred him on.
"Sounds so perfect, Родная (darling). These pretty noises from your lips up here." The soldat murmured as he kissed the corner of her lips, "and down here." his fingers pumped faster, curling over and over again, creating the lewd squelching sounds of her juices leaking out.
Almost seeing stars, Y/N moaned desperately, "Cummin',, so good, 'm cumming." Oh, how sweet does her moans sounded in the soldat's ears.
"Already, Родная (darling)?" he groaned as he felt her hole pulsated, "But you need more, little one." He persuaded her edge a little more; but with the way he was fucking into her weeping pussy, she certainly wasn't able handle it anymore.
She whined needily as she shook her head, "Wanna cum now, please soldat ohh god please please please." She begged deliriously.
The soldat hummed as he worked his fingers up her hole, "Oh darling, you don't need to beg for it. You're so precious, I'd give you anything." He mumbled against her cheek as he kisses her, "Now, cum for me. Let me see you wet my bed, Родная (darling). Go on, cum."
All words die in the back of her throat when a he cooed at her. She threw her head back as a squeak of whine dies in her mouth; eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing as the soldat makes sure that she rides out the high for as long as she should.
"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy. Her orgasm gushed and flowed out onto his hand, dripping on the sheet as she quietly cry out in pleasure.
"So pretty," he praised, as his fingers kept pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, "So gorgeous, cumming so hard for me," he grunts in her ears as her high begins to settle.
He pull out his fingers, leaving her feeling empty for the sudden lost of touch. But that didn't last long when he proposed something else.
"One more time Родная (darling), with me." He moaned he sunk his metal hand into his pants and pull out his aching cock. The soldat tugs himself in his palm, rubbing the wetness on his hand around his length before settling it between her throbbing cunt.
Y/N didn't manage to let our her protest when he intercepted her, "Won't put it in, darling. Just..." his words linger as he squeezed her plush thighs together, engulfing his warm cock between them, "...wanna snuggle in between your thighs, Куколка (little one)."
"So keep them pressed together, okay?" the brunnete coaxed as his hands took a hold on her,  "Will you do that for me?" The soldat asked sweetly.
She gave a small nod of affirmation, looking down at where the soldat's hands squishing both side of her thighs. The feeling of his length throbbing, wet with her slick, had her squeezing her thighs together more.
"That's my sweet girl. Promise you, it'll feel so good, darling." He let out a pleasurable groan as his hips jerked all the way forward, his skin meeting the back of her thighs while the head of his cock was peeking out from the other side.
With a squeeze of her hips in his hands, that will definitely leave bruises afterwards, he started to grind her into him. Back and forth, for the few experimental thrusts. And the moment her pretty little moans started to spill, he knew she needed more.
"More?" he moaned lowly, rocking his hips mindlessly.
Y/N limped back against his chest, whimpering sweetly for him as her needy little cunt drools messily all over her thighs and his cock; effortlessly making the thrust of his length between her thighs even easier.
If she was already so sensitve from him fingers before, now it's just oversimulating for her, "Hmm,, s-soldat,, that feels s-so good," she slurred, eyes rolling back.
"Yeah?" he gloated as he grunts, "Are you gonna cum again, darling? Come on, sweet one, I want to feel it." The soldat almost whimpered as he felt the thudding beat of her cunt on the stroke of his cock.
Y/N simply nodded, mouth falling open. His cock works over her sweet little pussy, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerve as he urged her to orgasm alongside his own.
He watched the way she drag her nails into the flesh of his thighs, "There she is, come on. Let it out, darling. That's it. Hmmm." His chest rumbled a deep groan. It was such a turned on for the soldat, to see the sight of him humping her legs faster until her slick finally wetting her thighs and his cock, making a mess everywhere.
Even if she has reached her high, his thrusts didn't flatter as his own orgasm was still at the edge. "Ahh,, darling,, please-- c-can't stop,," The upperside of his cock harshly rubbed between her sloppy folds, the feeling of the creamy mess between her thighs, making him fucked her faster.
The soldat whined needily into her neck as he drag her tightness back and forth. "So good, don't wanna stop." he squirmed as his voice hitched into a needy whimper, letting his head fall back to the headboard, his disheveled hair hanging by his face, some of it sticking onto his sweaty skin.
The room echoed with the several sinful sounds; his whimpers, her mewls, their skins slapping, the bed creaking, the wetness squelching.
It was such a dream for the soldat, especially when her folds spread around his fat cock every time he rolled his hips forward. The sight was beyond compelling, addictive to a certain extend.
"S-soldat,, please i'm,,hmmm,, sensitive." She can feel how thighs burned from the friction, and her slit abused with pleasure.
The soldat leaned into her until his hot breath blew across her neck, "Just a little more, Родная (darling)? Please? Wanna cum around your soft thighs, between your pretty pussy. You'll let me, right sweet one? You'll let me make a mess all over you? Paint you with my cum. You'll look so gorgeous, Родная (darling)"
His filthy thoughts started to spill out uncontrollably, as his body trembled in pure pleasure. His heaving chest rested on her small back when he whimpered, almost forcing her on her knees, pushing her down the mattress.
He wanted that so bad.
Just fuck her thighs and folds while she's on all fours, abusing her body for his pleasure and maybe slot the tip of his cock inside that tight cunt just before he cum, give that greedy little cunt a taste of his load, but he rather than that the soldat hold back on his thought, because truthfully he very much wanted to make a mess all over her right now.
His mouth sucking on her neck, leaving another one of his mark on her skin; one of many between those shades of purples and reds.
"Cumming for you, darling." He moaned loudly, eyes locked between her thighs, as his leaking cockhead occasionally peeks out. "Have so much cum for you,, gonna cream all over these thighs" He groaned, clenching his teeth as his cock throbs.
She clenched tighter as a unexpected orgasm were coming fast, letting out a desperate squeal as she reach her high. He growled at the feeling of her gushing pussy, fucking their orgasm into a higher level ecstacy.
The rolls of his hips were flattering into a slower and and sensual tempo, as both of them watched his cock; the way it pulsed and throbbed wildly, before white spurts of his hot cum started gushing from the little slit.
The soldat trembled through his orgasm, mouth falling open as he moaned lewdly at the sight of her skin being painted by his seemingly endless amount of cum.
Y/N panted heavily as her lips hanged open; failed words just at the tips of her tongue, unable to be formed properly. It didn't take long for the drowsiness to cloud her eyes, caused by the aftershock of the pleasure.
"There, there." The soldat cooed breathlessly in her ear, "So pretty, darling." Pampering the mark on her skin with gentle kisses, "So good for me." He mumbled as he languidly thrusts his cock, stroking the sides of her thighs, memorizing the sight of their wet mess.
Her body felt so good and satisfied, and the lid of her eyes slowly flutter into a longer close. She didn't hear much of his praises as he as laid her down, especially when his voice going in and out of her ears, as she was fighting through the temptation of slumber.
But, her body absolutely remembered how soft his touches on her skin, and the warm of the wet cloth swiping on the burn of her inner thighs, carefully over her swollen cunt.
"Love you, my precious darling." She couldn't make up what he was whispering under his breath. But she remembered the soldat pulling her close to his chest as he laid her on top of him, and the sweet kiss on her forehead before complete darkness engulf her sight.
"Your soldat loves you so much."
<< Part I || Part III >>
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oneeyedlove · 6 months ago
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Ash heart.
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summary | The blissful months you and Aemond shared after your secret marriage come to an abrupt end as the news of his kinslaying reach your ears.
pairing | Aemond Targaryen x niece!oc
word count | 2.8 k
note | I am new to writing and very unsure about this tbh. Also, english is not my first language so bear with me. Any thoughts are appreciated!
Find part 2 here
---
Princess Aelora Velaryon, second born child to Rhaenyra Targaryen, was perfectly aware of the divide in her family for as long as she could remember. Her mother's claim to the iron throne questioned at any opportunity, the bastardy of her and her siblings birth constantly whispered about the realm, not to mention the animosity displayed between the queen consort and the queen to be. She wasn't blind to it in any shape or form.
Nevertheless, Aelora ignored her instincts when it came to Prince Aemond. The pair held a soft spot for each other ever since they were children, the brown haired girl defending the boy from her brother's and uncle's cruel jests and him opening himself up to her like he never had before, not even to his mother. But even their childish affections couldn't stand the test that the incident brought upon them. The loss of an eye molded Aemond into a resentful man and Aelora stood by her family. Their feelings turned to ash upon a dragon's ire.
Or so was thought.
Despite years that lacked contact betwixt the two sides of House Targaryen, the arrival of Aelora and her family at King's Landing shifted a previously undisturbed passion. Aemond's heart ached in her presence but the prince disguised himself through vile insults and meaningless threats. He could never hurt her, not like she hurt him. The brown haired princess did not feel guilt for choosing her own blood over him all those years ago, after all he had said and done monstrosities she never thought her once sweet uncle capable of. But she did feel sad for him, he lost the most that night. All the anger that resided in the surface could not stand the longing she felt.
After Rhaenyra and Daemon decided it was best to reside in the Red Keep due to her grandsire's deteriorating health, Aelora and Aemond grew closer in their twisted relationship, challenging each other and throwing insults was almost a synchronized dance for the pair. Although appearances showed disdain and anger between uncle and niece, none knew that secret encounters were also their routine. Stolen kisses in dark corridors, comforting looks in public, late night adventures through flea bottom and passionate sex in empty chambers immersed their strained relationship.
The prince and princess knew their love was either destined to mending the bonds their family broke or destroying them completely. And against their better judgment, they got married in secrecy, the only witness being Haelena. They shared their vows under the moonlight in a traditional Valyrian wedding ceremony, like their ancestors. Delusional as the King was due to his illness, he was the only other family member to approve of their union, their parents and siblings confirmed their fears and voiced their disapproval loudly. Aelora's side of the family went as far as demanding her move back to Dragonstone alongside them but she denied the request.
Aemond was now her husband, her moon, her prince.
She was sure she would make peace with her parents and siblings soon, for there was no way of breaking the couple apart.
But that was before the King's death.
Before Aegon was crowned.
Before she realized she needed to choose between green and black.
...
"Aemond, issa hūra (My moon), please listen." Her pleads echoed through their chambers as her husband refused to look at her.
"I must fly to Dragonstone. I need to see my mother and make things right."
"Issa vēzos (My sun), are you aware of what your status will become if you indeed fly to meet Rhaenyra? You would come to be a traitor to the Realm. You must understand it, you would be imprisoned and killed upon your return to King's Landing." Aemond finally spoke, turning his head towards her, his eyes glistening with the light emanating from the thunderstorm outside the window.
"I would lose you." His expression was a sorrowful one as he whispered the words, as if he would conjure them to reality if he spoke clearly.
Aelora let out a long breath and walked towards him, holding onto his arms that now stood at her waist. Her gaze flickered from his chest up to his eye, tiredness emanating from the woman's form as she continued to quarrel with her husband.
"Then what must I be? We cannot refrain from participating in this war, Aemond. You have already taken your place by your brother, making yourself into one of his trusted dragon riders and ally. I am not fit to be both wife of Prince Aemond of the Greens and daughter of The Black Queen."
He placed a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke, her words were true but he could not bear to be of opposing sides with his one true love. All they had gone through to achieve this could not have been in vain, their marriage couldn't be just another tragedy in the midst of this war, he wouldn't let it.
"My mother must know I have not betrayed her." Aelora continued her sentence frantically.
"She will not be the first to spill blood, I am certain of it. You could convince Aegon not to do so either, we can try to stop the real war before its control slips from our fingers. There must be a way to mend things."
"You are optimistic, my darling. I only wished we hadn't got this far." He said as he got closer and touched her forehead with his.
"I will do my duty as commanded by the King. I shall fly to Storm's End tonight and secure the Baratheon's allegiance to the crown, it will be my last action before we discuss our plans. I promise you, we will find a way out of this."
As she opened her eyes to look at him, anguish poured out of her gaze. Aelora's heart held such love for Aemond that she could feel it tightening at the thought of losing him, as if two ropes were tugging at it from opposite directions.
"Issi īlon vēdros naejot jorrāelagon isse se midst hen vīlībāzma? (Are we mad to love in the midst of war?)" She asked.
"Lo ziry iksos, nyke'll sagon hakossiarzy ondoso aōha paktot. Syt sir se forever. (If it is, I'll be insane by your side. For now and forever.)" With his answer, he took the sides of her head with his hands and kissed her deeply.
It was a passionate kiss, both of them holding each other close as if they would vanish at any moment. Aemond was determined not to lose the thing he held dearest to anyone nor anything in the chaos about to engulf them. No, his sun was his light, she gave him purpose, she gave him devotion, she gave him life. He would fight his way through the Seven Hells for her. He would burn the world to ash.
Certain as her lover was, Aelora dreaded the future as he broke their embrace. He lingered at the link of their hands as he made his way towards the door, but left her even so. The sound of heavy wood clanking ringed in her head, unable to suppress the growing pit inside her.
"Gods be good."
They wouldn't.
...
Aemond's return was filled with misery. His temper, his damned temper, conquered his thoughts completely and the consequences would drown him. He had killed Prince Lucerys. Her favorite brother. He ensured catastrophe over them. He broke his promise.
The prince's mind raced as he sat in the coucil room, it had been almost two hours since he told them what had transpired. Otto and Alicent spent every breath of theirs berating him whilst Aegon congratulated and rejoiced at the news. He had no care for any of their words, but he deeply feared hers. He was sure all of the qualities she bestowed upon him vanished. He was a weak man. Pathetic and evil. He should have stayed away for he never deserved her. Aelora's reaction would destroy him.
"How are we to tell her?" His mother's despair could be seen in her eyes as she spoke.
"I will." That was the only phrase the one eyed prince uttered since he disclosed the events of what had happened.
Aemond stood from his seat and walked away, ignoring the pleads for him to stay and discuss what he was to do. He had no plan to disguise his actions to his wife, she deserved better and he wouldn't pretend to be worthy of sympathy. The promise he made was shattered. Tragedy was about to struck over their marriage and he had no one to blame but himself. As he made his way through Maegor's Holdfast he could hear parts of the whispers spoken about him.
"His dragon ate him."
"Revenge for his eye."
"Kinslayer."
Standing in front of the same doors that witnessed their love from the beginning, Aemond opened them ready for the end. And yet he wasn't prepared for the sight before him.
Their chambers were wrecked. The sheets that used to embrace the couple in their cherished nights were ripped to shreds at the foot of the bed. The dressing table where she readied herself as he watched was tumbled to the side, its mirror shattered into a million pieces. The matching set of chairs and table where they used to have their meals with laughter and love were scattered across the room. The candles that allowed him to study her figure during the countless times they shared intimacies were blown out, the only light being the one emanating from the fireplace.
And there she was, on her knees as she watched the fire. Her beautiful brown locks disheveled in the braids coming undone atop her head, her golden dress was crinkled and burned at the hem. The princess held a small paper on her right hand, the other one placed on the stone floor.
She already knew.
"Aelora..." Aemond tried to speak but his words were buried by guilt.
The woman before him turned her head in an ungodly slow speed, clutching the letter in her hand until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying, the tracks of dried tears still on her face. Yet, she displayed no sadness in her expression, only a dragon's rage.
"You." She growled, her tone making a shiver run down his spine.
"My love, ple-" He started.
Despite Aemond's efforts to plead with his beloved, he knew no words would be able to repair what he had destroyed. The once familiar pet name left a bittersweet taste in his mouth but it was nothing compared to the sourness it brought to her heart.
"Do not address me that way." Her words were low but stabbed him in the chest all the same. He watched as she got herself up from the floor, her fury burning like wildfire.
The princess could not believe what she had read in her stepfather's letter an hour ago, Daemon had to be mistaken. Her husband had promised to avoid the carnage of war, he wouldn't have been so disloyal. She knew Aemond had arrived, for she saw Vhagar flying over the Red Keep, and assumed he had been discussing Lord Borros' response with the council, but she had grown far too anxious as time passed. It had taken too long for it to be a mere coincidence. Lucerys had been killed by her husband. The man whom she loved with all her being, for whom she defied her own flesh and blood, had proven himself the beast all feared him to be. As the tears fell from her face and destruction noises flooded her senses, her love turned to ash.
"You killed him!" Aelora yelled as she strode up to him and pushed his chest back, he made no move to stop her.
"I did." He looked down at her as he spoke.
"You murdered an innocent child!" She mustered all her strength to slap him this time, her chin raising in a defying manner.
"I did."
"Have you no shame? No regret?" She pushed him to the side as she screamed, making him stumble.
Aelora could not believe him. He had broken his promise, broken her family, broken her heart and yet he found it beneath himself to explain anything to her? All the resentment and rage he harbored for Luke had been stronger than his love for her, betrayal falling upon the pair over a childish mistake. His stoic expression mirrored his soul, Aemond had no guilt to convey.
"Do your depraved actions give you pride? Do you relish in your revenge?" She shouted till her throat hurt. He couldn't do this to her, to wreck world and then leave her stranded. No, she would hurt him, she needed to.
"You disgust me. Murderer!" She spat those words as she hit his chest again, receiving no reaction from him other than his eye staring ah the darkess that consumed the chamber.
"Liar!" She pushed him again.
"Cunt" And again.
"Kinslayer!" And again.
Finally Aemond looked at her, the insult landing deeper than her other words. That was his title now. He was everything she claimed him to be and worse, a man to be hated and struck until the end of his days.
"Fight back you traitor!" She swung at him in all the ways she could to no avail, he only stared at her with his arms behind his back as they slowly moved across the room.
"Too righteous to hit a lady, are you Aemond?" Aelora stopped shouting but her voice remained as piercing as a spear.
"I could never hurt you." He answered, his breath shaking.
She could only stare at him in response, a twisted smirk and a scoff the only acknowledgment se could form. The princess scanned him with her eyes until she found his dagger at his waist. In one swift move, she grabbed the blade and threw him onto the wall, placing it on his throat.
"Hypocrisy runs deep in your blood, doesn't it? Worse than your mother, you murder Lucerys and yet claim not to maim me. You think yourself so pure, a true perfect prince of the realm. A Strong bastard's life is nothing compared to yours, is it? I should slice your neck from ear to ear and watch as life flees from your body, see if red stains your honor." She whispered whilst looking into his eye, he had no fear but sadness and regret in his expression.
The prince's death would be a mercy he longed for, the thought of life with only her hatred to call his wasn't worth living. Knowing her light was never to shine upon him again, Aemond was ready to be drowned by darkness once more. His lip trembled as he looked for words, any words, to ask her for his end.
"How could I ever had loved you?" Tears began to form in Aelora's eyes, she couldn't contain them anymore. The pain she felt in her core was almost tangible, how could a love like theirs have now become such a wound? A cut that would never heal, destined be with her forever.
"I was such a fool! To think a twisted soul like yourself would be capable of anything but wrath and violence!" She let the translucent pearls of water run down her face and threw his head against the stone wall as she ripped the side of his eyepatch with the dagger.
Aemond was in the verge of tears himself, watching as the woman he loves so deeply tear him to shreds. He could withstand any torture, suffer any injury and it would never compare to the torment of her loathing. His sapphire eye was exposed now, a drop of blood dripping from the side of his face where the blade touched his skin.
"There. Let everyone see the monster you truly are, inside and out." She backed away from him slowly, her voice trembling just as her legs did.
"Nyke jāhor va moriot jorrāelagon ao, issa v��zos. (I will always love you, my sun.)" The one eyed prince whispered as he leaned into the wall, a single teardrop fell from his eye as he accepted defeat.
With a loud thud, Aelora burst through the chamber's door, leaving Aemond behind. He fell to the ground as he cried, but he knew it wasn't over. As he heard the screech of her dragon echoing through the skies, he knew they would meet again on the battlefield, fighting for different sides. Yet there would be no need for war to ruin them, he already did.
Maybe fate had decided this would be their path all along.
For her blood was black and his was green.
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solkara · 6 months ago
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❛ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 , benjicot blackwood ❜
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⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you were the apple of your family's eye a rare gem they would do anything to protect but sometimes even the purest doves crave something bloody
⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , benjicot blackwood x fem! velaryon / strong! reader
⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , benji with the 10 seconds of screen time ateee tbh or wait is it not benji cuz I've heard some people say it's not so plz explain cuz I'm so confused lmfao !!
house of the dragon masterlist
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⌗ you were a bastard. born from a night of passion shared between you mother and father. rhaenyra and daemon. but no one would ever call you a bastard. as you bore all the features of a targaryen unlike your siblings. white hair purple eyes. the seven kingdoms called you aemma reborn. as your striking resemblance to your late grand mother was uncanny.
⌗ growing up life was easy. your mother and grandsire doted on you. your siblings would go to the ends of the known world for you. ser harwin and leanor though not your real fathers stepped up and were there for you whenever you needed them. and though you had never met your real father your mother told you that he would love you.
⌗ truth be told there was nothing that daemon more than to be with you. his daughter. his oldest. but he settled for watching from afar for now. hearing about all of your achievements in pentos. how you had claimed the creeping death amaris. a dragon that had never been claimed and was rumored to be from balerion's final clutch. and it showed. as amaris was the largest dragon around. making vaghar look petite. and while daemon couldn't help but be the proudest man in the known world. part of him breathed a sigh of relief that his daughter didn't get hurt.
⌗ life was good. as you grew older tales of your beauty spread far and wide. from winterfell to dorne. you had suitors from all over flock to offer their hand. from dresses to castles. they offered it all. but were ultimately shut down by either your mother or grandsire. even the queen alicent tried offering the hand of one of her sons. but that idea fizzled out after diftmark. though it was still obvious that both of the queen's son's still bore a certain mixture of fondness and lust for you.
⌗ the deaths of harwin and laenor broke you. and after the the harrowing night of having to watch aemond lose an eye. you were exhausted. your eyes red and with no tears left to cry. you walked off to find your mother after having just finished packing. only to find her with an unfamiliar man. "mother?" you asked approaching with caution.
⌗ "my darling girl I want you to meet someone this is daemon your father" and for a moment your heart stopped as you looked at the man before you. you had dreamed for so long for the day that you would finally meet your father. and now it was here you didn't know what to do. but fear not as daemon took matters into his own hands. pulling you into his embrace which you gladly accepted. finally you left complete.
⌗ after that time seemed to fly by. your mother and father got married. your brother got betrothed to your half-sisters. and all of you lived happily on dragonstone together. with you and your siblings going for frequent dragon rides together. teaching them high valyrian. listen to your father's many stories he gained from his travels. and letting your mother braid your hair while the two of you giggled about the newest gossip.
⌗ though there was one topic she would never touch. and there were suitors. as princess rhaenyra had received hundreds if not thousands of offers for her daughter's hand. which she all denied. at one point there were so many that daemon restored to using a large chunk of them as kindle for the fire in their room. claiming "none of those vile pig's are good enough for my daughter" to which the heir agreed. the last thing she wanted was for her beloved daughter to be used by some lord as a broodmare.
⌗ but rhaenyra knew that she would have to wed her daughter off at some point. and that scared her. though her eldest was the blood of a dragon. you were gentle and soft. the apple of her eye and the thought of you being hurt. by a man nonetheless made her heart clench. and daemon agreed swearing he would rip any man. regardless of who. if they tried anything with their daughter. which was easy to say as the royal couple were under the impression their daughter's interest hadn't been caught by anyone. but oh how wrong they were.
⌗ see you had indeed had your eyes set on someone. who's name happened to be ben. the first time you saw him was at your name day tourney. where he jousted against a lannister. and won much to your joy. before going on to win the tournament. after asking for your favour. which you gladly gave. and you couldn't help but blush. as you couldn't deny he was attractive. even if he was covered in someone else's blood.
⌗ and so began the beautiful friendship between the two of you. as you went from secret love letters sent by ravens. to flying to see him whenever you could. truth is you were head over heels for him. just as he was for you. you were two half's that made a whole. twin flames if you will. and ben had made it clear that he would give you the world and that all you had to do was ask for it. a sentiment which you reverberated. the two of you had talked about a life together. married and with kids. now all you had to do was tell your parents.
⌗ but oh boy when you decided to tell them. was that an interesting conversation. your father nearly unsheathed dark sister. your mother nearly passed out in horror. your brothers were either confused or looking at benjicot like he was dragon food. and your sisters were smiling from ear to ear. but after they had all settled down you spoke. and the two of you made it very clear that you were madly in love. and after a few more threats from your father and brothers. a couple more happy tears and hugs from your mother and sisters. everyone had made peace with the fact and were overjoyed for the both of you.
⌗ and within the week news had spread to every corner of the seven kingdom's of your betrothal to the blackwood. and with was also said that the men of the kingdom's morned the loss of the chance to marry you by descending on brothels to drink and lay with whores. your uncles included. but you paid little mind. as you enjoyed life within your little bubble. spending your days with your family and benji. life was perfect. and you couldn't wait for the wedding.
⌗ and once the day finally arrived. you were jittery with nerves. dressed head to toe in white. you looked the spitting image of duty. as you walked arm in arm with your father towards the alter. the eyes of hundreds of highborns fixed on you in awe. but all you could focus on was. ben. your ben. as the two of you recited your vows with joy you sealed it with a kiss. and after the celebrations of the night. and your new husband threatening to behead anyone who dares mention a bedding ceremony. the two of you joined select family. from both side. to join for another ceremony. a traditional valyrian wedding. and as you sealed your love once more with a bloody kiss. you now truly had it all.
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anon , May I please have a targaryen! reader, daughter of daemon and rhaenyra, born after jace like she looks so much like Aemma, and the kingdom would speak of her as Aemma reborn, being favored by Viserys and her people. Can imagine her claiming a dragon that was rumored to be from the late Balerion’s clutch, a stark contrast to the other she-dragons, with her own being a ferocious creature of black scales and fire of black and red. While she is loved in her kingdom, she is also loved in her family. Much like Helaena, the reader is the apple of the kingdom’s eyes and dearer to her family more than anything. And when the topic of suitors comes, all of them are horrified when the one that catches her eye is the Bloody Ben himself, Benjicot Blackwood. ps. I’m a sucker for a beloved character whom loves someone that is the exact opposite of her 😭💖 Requesting for more familial and platonic fic with the Benjicot romance just maybe being small 😩☝️
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lovingjingyuan · 6 months ago
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Hi!! I've been reading your first for awhile and I think you're such a great writer and I was wondering if I could request a yandere Sunday/welt/jingyuan/blade where the reader has depression and how they'd handle it? You could add anything you like :) thank you!
Thank you sm for the compliment. I'm so glad someone enjoys my works <333 Tbh I don't find my writing good cuz my English isn't so good for writing ;-; also when i writing this on google docs it was like 7 pages long.
Warning: 2.7K words, A bit affectionate in Jing Yuan and Aventurines part, manipulation, abuse of power, gaslighting, emotional abuse,
Info at bottom
Pairing: (Yandere) Sunday, Welt, Jing Yuan, Blade, Aventurine x Reader
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Sunday Sunday wouldn't be able to handle it well, but instead, he would unintentionally cause further damage to your mental state. It’s elusive getting you to cooperate with his subjectives. He couldn’t quite bring himself to understand why you aimlessly slumber like this, showing little to no affection and he deluges you with this subjective perfect life. You were in a gilded cage ornate into a display of artwork, but to Sunday you’ll always be that vulnerable bird, needing guidance and protection. He couldn’t grasp the idea of why you still yearn for freedom when he can provide you with everything you desire.
You reminded Sunday of the time when he and his sister Robin once took a weak bird under their wing. The bird is like you; too weak and vulnerable for this cruel reality. Yet, his subjective never appealed to your line of reasoning. To you, people are meant to make their own choices and yearn for the touch of freedom. But to him the weak must be helped and preserved by the strong and by that you’re weak. 
Instead of offering you normal support and seeking treatment for you he would isolate you further, making watch of your every movement and ensuring you’re always in his presence every second. 
To Sunday he couldn’t just let you go now, not after all his sacrifices and efforts to hold you captive in his presence. He started to lie and twisted his thoughts into believing that this is the only path to achieve mutual happiness and to ensure your safety. Yet, it further broke him even though you refuse to make and remain apathetic with him. Your constant depression and lack of motivation left him feeling adrift. You rarely are able to take care of yourself anymore leaving him completely lost.
All he can hope is for you to develop Stockholm syndrome. He prays that your depression and lack of happiness will lead you to believe he’s the only one who can mend the wounds on your heart, filling any empty void. 
“Please stop lying on the bed. You’ve been there all day. You know that’s far from healthy and will only worsen your state,” he silently pleaded with you hoping by any miracle you would follow through. This constant isolation he put you through has been driving both you and him mad. But in the end, you lost all light in you. No longer able to plead with him any further for salvation.  
You can just simply close your eyes falling further back into nihility. 
“Please, my dear, you can't keep doing this to me… to yourself-”
‘I’m fine, ' you snapped. How his heart ached at your indifference.
“No, you’re not okay. Your behavior is absolutely absurd!” he remained unfalter on the edge of the bed next to you. Sunday’s mind ran blink on ways to save you from deluging any further in depression. He could release you, but he’s scared the moment he does. You would leave him forever like the bird he and his sister raised.
He leaned in, brushing your hair aside to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead. He will continue to keep you here with him indefinitely, trying to keep his own sanity intact as well as yours. He only remains resolute to keep you here with him, refusing to open his eyes and acknowledge his wrongdoings.
“It’s not a sin. I’m doing this for the greater good.”
I believe Yandere Sunday is just manipulative in wanting to keep you, he’s no sadist but I also believe he cares a whole lot about his public image which is now RUINED! Sunday would be a good lover if you comply or not obsessed over you. Sunday would be the type to say, "Oh my days." :)
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Welt During his lifetime Welt had witnessed a lot and many tragedies. Despite his knowledge and understanding of the consequences of his actions, he couldn’t suppress his urges when it came to you. Welt always made sure to keep a watchful eye over you, safeguarding you from any troubles. He would usually spend a lot of his time watching over you and observing any anomalous behavior from you. 
One sudden day he started noticing you developing odd behaviors and your daily schedule becoming a trouble. You also started to develop a habit of dissociating away from your peers, he was no exception. This unusual behavior disturbs him because it meant he can’t keep a close eye on you. 
Now I feel how he’ll handle this can go two ways: He seeks immediate professional help for you OR tries to handle this situation himself. The reason why Welt would try to handle this situation himself is to prevent you from becoming self-aware. To Welt, becoming self-aware poses a challenge to him as you’re more aware and knowledgeable of your surroundings and who is around you. He would do everything in his power to leave you clueless and thoughtless towards your surroundings so you don’t become aware of any manipulation he inflicted on you in the past.
Manipulation such as convincing you to stay with the Astral Express by his side 24/7. Welt truly cares about you and needs to see you heal. To him you’re the light in the room full of darkness in his heart. Every time you smile, laugh even when you’re clumsy or mess up he can’t help but smile, feeling relaxed near your presence. Even if you're not the brightest person you still light and warm up his heart. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, raising a brow as the bottom of his cane taps the floor behind you. Deep down he knows the answer and urges you to tell him the truth, finding comfort in his presence like he does in yours. 
“I’m alright,” you intensity waiver him away.
Unfazed by your response, he persisted, “You really don’t need to pretend, around me.”
If you do manage to admit and confess your feelings he would categorize it as depression. Welt will immediately try and cheer you up, letting March, Dang Heng and Stelle; his trusted companions around you. He will try every day to lift your spirits even letting you choose where to go for the next trailblazing expeditions. 
Welt attempts to educate himself more on the topic of depression, so he can create a safe environment for you. Although he might not exactly provide professional help he will solve it ethically.
Lol I can't see Welt keeping you captive. He would probably pressure you or convince you to join the Astral Express so he can keep a close eye on you. He's very careful when being possessive over you. Himeko and Dan Heng can catch on quickly so he would try to make you fall in love with him.
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Jing Yuan Jing Yuan, a high achieving General, a man who no one can hate personally, aged over 600 years and has experience of yearning over the dead and betrayals. As he watched you drift into the endless abyss of sadness he could not help but share in your sorrow. All he truly wanted for you was your happiness and safety, including your undying love and attention. 
Yet this draining illness simply wouldn’t allow that for you. Jing Yuan is a man who is willing to go to extreme lengths in pursuit of your happiness which only he should be the one serving. Yet under one condition, he’s willing to do things that go against your happiness just so he can satisfy his impulsive desires. 
“I love you so so much. Please don’t be sad,” he murmured softly into your eyes, biting down gently on the top of your ears, which sent shivers down your body in a sensual way. He twirls the end of your hair with his fingers holding you against his embrace.
You continue to stare out into the distance, while his fingers play with the ends of your hair.
“If there’s anything you must need…. Please,” he implored in your ears from behind. The warm breath on your neck, “Tell me. I care about you and you know that.” his arms wrap around your waist telling you you’re all for him alone, all while he nuzzles his head against your shoulders. His white fluffy strands of hair tickle up against your cheekbone. 
If you ever found yourself in his custody and requested freedom, he would by all means exploit rapid, white little lies. 
"Recently, there have been reports of numerous mara-struck soldiers on the loose. 36 tragedies have resulted from these mara strikes," he warns, emphasizing the fake danger outside. "Luofu might need to go into lockdown, so it's safest for you to stay here with me."
He soon begins to take into account your condition growing rapidly worse. Your depression started to overtake your everyday life. That’s when he knew this was severe. Although sometimes delusional, he does take into account his mistakes. 
“I arranged us a date, a vacation even! It’s been many years since I left Luofu for anything other than urgent matters.”
You smiled and nodded profusely in agreement. This smile and small action deluges his heart with warm sweet love <3 How his heart jumps and flutters like a butterfly because of you. If you don’t get any better he will hire and get you an appointment with the best psychologist. 
Jing Yuan just wants the best for you wholeheartedly and truly. If he does kidnap and detain you, it’s because of his impulsive actions to keep you for himself. There will be no other 4th betrayal or the 4th person to pay the price. 
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Blade Blade’s cold demeanor and sharp eyes were enough to sway anyone away; he never believed himself capable of love or being a good partner in general. Some people in this cosmos were simply not cut out to be in a relationship, or so he believed since his journey began with the thought of death lingering in his mind. 
Yingxing would have been a more suitable man in a relationship, but Blade? He doubts on the idea of love and interest. Yet, when he laid eyes on you he couldn’t ignore the strange stinging of an electric sensation in his heart. He wanted to delve deeper into this unusual sensation he was feeling. Although he knew he could never truly reveal himself.
Who wouldn’t recognize a man whose bounty is worth 8.13 billion credits? At least he has a good credit score unlike me (╥﹏╥) Blade slowly started by stalking you, falling deeper into the spiral of love and obsession. He knew with his records you could never reciprocate his feelings.
He restored to drastic measures, keeping you in his custody. It’s difficult to say he’ll treat you top-notch. Being under his care seemed more like a physiological experiment. Providing you with basic needs while expecting obedience, as if conducting an experiment. 
Blade never once will lay a hand on you, raise his voice at you, only expressing annoyance through small grunts and groans. However, the isolation drove you quickly to the brink of insanity. Every day, waking up to a meal, lack of interaction; he would simply stare down at you as you chew on the food he provided. You even lack social interaction with your kidnapper. The daily routine went on, like a trap in an asylum. 
His cold gaze lingered on you, studying your every move, all while silently making mental notes of your behavior. If you did fall into depression he wouldn’t recognize it immediately, attributing it to your natural state or how you express disappointment.
Every tear shed or harsh remark towards him is met with silent observation, perceiving it as a natural reaction. Only when severe signs startsd occurring; refusing to eat or neglecting basic hygiene, did Blade acknowledge something was amiss.
He attempts to coax you with better-tasting meals, even dessert. If you die from starvation how else will he get the same sensation he feels when around you? This strange sensation in his heart is much more desirable than death.
“Eat it, you mustn’t starve yourself,” he says nonchalantly, placing a bowl of Mapo Tofu and a small portion of rice before you.
“Just leave me alone.”
“Eat it.”
“No.”
Blade shot you a deadly glare, his intimidation palpable, urging you to reluctantly pick up the chopstick. Blade’s method or strange way of love worsens your condition. I think with Blade you probably wouldn’t relieve yourself from the chains of depression. Yet I also do believe Blade will try to understand your mental state yet fail.
If Blade were to love; he would start by, placing a hand on your shoulders and gently massaging your shoulder blade as you ate. The thought of Blade saying “I love You,” seems inconceivable, but he’d probably say it underneath his breath.
“Do now dwell in longingness for too long,” he muttered against your ears, perhaps the most motivational phrase he said to you since the decline in your mental state began. Although he won’t admit upfront he loves and feels affection toward you, his demeanor is more relaxed around you and his sharp intense eyes soften at your presence. 
How to help a depressed person 101: The reader is Blade trying to figure out what’s causing you this and how to help you. 
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Aventurine From the moment Aventurine first laid eyes on you, he knew exactly what he wanted for the rest of his life. He had always felt most alive when gambling at high stakes, but being near you brought a sensation even more profound; a mix of obsession and love washed over him. 
When you begin to struggle with depression, Aventurine tries everything to lift up your spirits by lavishing you with extravagant gifts, hoping they would bring you happiness. Yet the joy was only ephemeral and wasn’t what he truly desired. What he craved was not only your happiness but also your love and affection.
He couldn’t bring it into words but, your presence was like an addictive drug he constantly craved for. His dopamine goes crazy near you, almost exploding his brain. There was something about you that he yearned to possess and preserve for himself.
“Sweetheart, I brought you this exclusive necklace,” he announced from behind, presenting the box to you.
Your face lights up only momentarily at each lavish gift presented to you, but as gifts keep coming, their extravagance holds little value. Aventurine could only find himself lost. What could he do now since he can’t seem to please you any further with his riches?
To him, his identity revolves around his wealth and luck, without the appeal towards money, he feared that he held no more value in your life. He wished you found solace in him as he did towards you.
“Is something the matter?” he asked anxiously, feeling you slip away further despite all his efforts. You’re his safe haven but he can’t fathom why he’s not your after all of his efforts. 
“I’m fine,” a transparent white lie escapes your lips.
“That’s a blatant lie,” he frowned, wrapping his right arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him while on the bed. “Please, tell me the truth. I’ll buy you anything you want,” he continues coaxing you with the power of money.
“I’m okay,” you continue to refuse despite his effort.
Aventurine hesitates to pressure you any further, fearing that you’ll start to withdraw from him completely. He would insist, forcing you into therapy, though each session came with a price because nothing in this universe is free.
With Aventurine’s dirty money he coaxes the therapist to make every session involve him in some way while actually helping you. With the power of money, the therapist starts to manipulate you into seeking comfort, and attention from Aventurine. Every session ended with something about Aventurine, so he can linger in your thoughts.
Slowly, you began to heal, finding yourself drawn to Aventurine's presence. He welcomed this, craving pleasure since he- himself is constantly drawn to you every second.
"How are you feeling?" he asked gently, his arm draped around you as you both lounged on plush casino's cushion.
"Better," you replied softly.
He smiled at your response, knowing it was what he wanted to hear. Finally, he was becoming your safe place, just as he had always hoped.
His hand gently massaged your back, drawing you closer until your lips were almost touching.
"Is that so?" he grinned, closing the gap with a tender kiss, savoring the sweetness of the moment. As he pulled back, staring at your bashfulness, he brushed your hair behind your ear and whispered, "If I win this, I'll buy you everything you desire."
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P.S: I'm going to sleep after this but idk much about Welt despite playing hi3 since near release date. I also like keep character in character but Yandere or any NSFW +18 works are probably gonna be ooc.
Sorry this took so long I'm Trying to get my life back together :(
Mental Health
I take mental health seriously since I’m studying to become an expert in the medical field for mental health! If you’re ever in need of help please ask a trusted adult or seek help right away before it becomes worse! Just know mental health doesn’t make you a bad person but rather you’re suffering and depression is also an illness. Everyone is allowed treatment no matter what.
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a-aexotic · 2 years ago
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grumpy!rafe and sunshine!reader where he’s obsessed with her and is so clingy. whatever you want to write about that tbh
pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader
warnings: fluff!, rafe being mean (towards top LMFAO), mention of parties/drinking.
summary. when reader goes on a girls trip, rafe gets grumpy because his girl is gone because he's alone.
➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫
part 2 !!
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You and Rafe were complete opposites. You two were so contrasting, everyone had questions but neither of you cared. You two were just in your own bubble, not caring about anyone else's opinion.
Rafe didn't like many people but more importantly, he loved close to no one. For a while he guarded his heart so furiously, everyone had just grown used to the fact he was just an asshole. Not you, you broke down those walls the moment you walked into his life.
He immediately liked you. But, he grew to love you. And so did you with him. You changed him as well for the better as well; everyone knew that Rafe became a better person when he got with you.
You had him whipped and he wasn't afraid to admit to anyone.
Rafe was sitting outside by the pool, annoyance filling his body. You were out of town for the weekend and he honestly had nothing to do except sulk around until you eventually came back. He heard the door slide open and he looked over to see Topper.
He groaned out load and sighed. "What do you want?"
"Dude, chill out."
"I am, Topper, your aura is just pissing me off." Rafe argued and Topper let out a laugh, taking a seat in the chair next to him.
"Aura? Dude, are you joking? You've been hanging around Y/N way too much man. It's been a year now and you guys are still in the honeymoon phase."
Rafe's nostrils flared as he turned back to his 'best friend.' "Well it's always the honeymoon phase if you found the right one, Top. You wouldn't know that because there is no right one for you."
Topper rolled his eyes in annoyance but before he could reply, Rafe continued.
"And I don't hang out with Y/N too much. It's a reasonable amount of time."
"Bro, when was the last we actually hung out?"
"Like last weekend dude, chill out. You're acting like I don't ever see you. You're always at my house, man, it's getting exhausting." Rafe sighed before Topper registered what he was saying and nodded.
"Oh, yeah. You're right. That party was awesome last weekend bro, wow. I forgot about it." Topper chuckled to himself and Rafe made a disgusted face.
"Why are you here anyway, Top?" Rafe got up from the chair and started walking inside; he needed a beer after the conversation with Topper.
He followed close behind. "Uh, Sarah was getting me my stuff back."
Rafe couldn't help but laugh to himself as Topper glared at him. "Sorry, man. I thought you were off that train a while ago, you're still on her? It's been like-"
"Dude, you wouldn't understand!"
Rafe heard the door open and the footsteps leading into the kitchen. He immediately put down his beer once he saw your face, a big smile forming on his lips.
"Y/N!"
You walked over to him with a grin playing on your lips as you embraced him tightly. He put his arms around your waist. As you let go he leaned in for a quick kiss on the lips as Topper furrowed his eyebrows in disgust.
"Get a room."
Rafe glared at him. "You realize it's my house, right, Topper?"
You laughed at your boyfriend's sarcasm. "Sorry, Top, you still haven't found a girlfriend?"
"Yeah, man. It's really hard to find a decent girl on this stupid island." Topper ran his hand through his hair, obviously stressed out. You held in a laugh.
Rafe put a hand on Topper's shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly. "You'll find one soon, dude, don't worry. Now, if you don't mind leaving, me and my girl have to catch up."
"Oh, come on, it's been like two days!"
Rafe gave him a stern look before Topper rolled his eyes and groaned, walking away. Rafe faced you and gave you a kiss on your forehead, taking your hand in his.
He led you outside and he took a seat where he was sitting before. He spread his legs so you stand in between them as he grabbed your waist, pulling you in.
"Top's right, Rafe, it has only been-"
"Shhh, let me enjoy this moment."
You found a tiny bit amusing how clingy Rafe was. You took it as a compliment though, you were glad you were one of the only people who have ever had Rafe so whipped for them; maybe even the only one.
He pulled your waist in more and put his head on your stomach, finding comfort in you and your body. He looked up at you with a smile. "Missed you so much babe. I was bored all weekend, I literally only hung out here. But Topper kept annoying me."
You laughed at that, "Topper's your best friend."
"No, you are. He's just the dude I hang around with."
You shook your head. "Stop being mean, I know you care about him a tiny bit."
He rolled his eyes, "like the smallest bit."
You smiled at your boyfriend, putting your hands in his hair as he relaxed. "I missed you, too. So much, I kept saving your snaps because I missed your cute face."
He grumbled at the wording and you couldn't help but laugh again. "I mean, hot face."
He grinned, "that's better."
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pedge-page · 3 months ago
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does tommy ever feel the wrath of joel’s pregnant wife or does she reserve that specifically for joel? I feel like tommy would get on her nerves a little bit 😂
I was waiting for someone to ask this! Tbh I think preggo wife saves her wrath for Joel simply because shes comfortable with him and can relax and let her guard down. With Tommy alone....
Tommy Dealing with Preggo Wife
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Warnings: just language and Joel and Wife being insecure in their own (slightly toxic) ways
- - - -
You were super pregnant at this point. A couple weeks away from making Joel a doting husband to a doting father, and he was probably more on edge than you were. Your anxious little poor husband Joel, freaking out that he needed to take a weekend trip away, and the only person he can rely to watch over you--
"I don't need to be fucking baby sat--!"
-- his sweet, helpless, innocent little pregnant wife, is unfortunately, Tommy.
"Ok listen very carefully," Joel starts, now having Tommy's full attention like he's about to ask him to do his first heart transplant. "She doesn't go anywhere unless you decide. She eats what you put in front of her, and you don't take her shit. She's gonna be bitchy and whiny and crying. She needs to rest. Rub her shoulder, put her feet up, whatever. But you gotta tough through and just make sure she understands that you're in charge. And what you say, goes. Got it?"
He knows Joel is relying on him to take care of his most precious belonging...who also is the devil. "Ok...ok. I mean it's like a... like watching a toddler, right?" Tommy asks, unsure about the whole thing.
"Yeah... a pregnant one that weighs more than ya and swears and probably will slap you a lot."
Joel smacks Tommy's shoulder lovingly with an encouraging smile.
Tommy feels even more hesitant. but he knows that he just needs to channel his inner Joel this weekend: stern, unmoving, and commanding, and he'll do just fine navigating you.
Joel hugs you real tight and kisses your forehead, inhaling your hair deeply as if to etch it into his brain. "I love you, baby, I'm gonna miss you so--"
"Later fucker." you pat his bum and wave him off as you waddle away in his large T shirt towards the freezer drawer, pulling out a Ben and Jerry's fudge pint with wet lips and a grin.
Tommy shrugs and helps Joel out to the truck with his bag. he waves goodbye as his brother backs out the driveway, shouting "YOU'RE IN CHARGE!"
I'm in charge, I'm in charge, he chants to himself, taking a deep breath before entering your house again.
"Alright!" he claps his hands together awkwardly but with a tone leadership. "We are going to stay in bed today,"
"Mall," you grump though a big scoop of ice cream.
"W-what?"
"M'goin ta mall. Yur takin mee," you nod towards him casually, gulping another spoon.
"uhh-h." Tommy looks around anxiously. Was this part of the test? He should put his foot down, yeah, Joel said you go no where unless Tommy explicitly said so. "N-no."
you swallow. "'Scuse me?"
"N-no? I mean... no! I said, we are putting you in bed, and what i say, go--"
"Thomas Miller," you say, and an eerie sense of fear swallows Tommy, sending shivers all over his body. Despite the 90 degree forecast, its like someone just tossed his insides into a freezer, and you were locking him in.
"Y-yes...maam," he whispers, feeling small.
"We can either do this... the hard way," you tilt your head with a sinister gaze towards him, as if referencing that bit of "Joel" he's trying to channel inside. "Or, we can do this... my way." The way you smile at the end is somehow even more threatening than the chilled tone you're having with him.
It was like when he and Joel broke his grandma's vase, and rather than yelling at them, she had the exact same terrifyingly threatening voice, and it made Tommy sleep with one eye open for a week.
"What will it be, Thomas."
He remembers to breathe shakily through his nose, licking his parched lower lip.
He doesn't want to be known as the guy who got beat up by his pregnant sister in law.
-
"Do you want a pretzel?" you ask kindly.
"Ah... no--no that's okay--"
"I'm getting you one, honey, just say Thank you."
"Okay. T-thank you."
Tommy bites into the cinnamon sugar one with the extra glaze you had ordered, and he had never felt such sweet heaven.
"Joel used to yell at me for my sweet tooth," he admits as the two of you stuff your faces and waltz slowly down the mall halls.
"Me too!" you bump his shoulder heartily.
Tommy lets out a relaxed sigh. From the moment he agreed to do whatever it was you wanted, the weekend had been fantastic. Turns out, you're not only super fun to blast kareoke to the worst songs in the car, but also all full of warmth, laughter, and even more suprisingly, extremely generous at offering to spoil him rotten like a mother with her favorite child.
"What can I make you for dinner?"
"Wha--no I'm supposed to cook for you--"
"Tommy stop please. I want to make you something. You have to be stuck with me all day walking like a slow penguin. I want to do something for you. You deserve it. "
You hadn't noticed Tommy pausing along your walk, watching you in awe as you waddled about, gently caressing your tummy absentmindedly as you window shopped.
This was the demon that Joel complained about every hour of the day???
And even more concerning was: how did someone like JOEL manage to score a girl like YOU???
You were so peaceful, generous, kind, loving, all smiles and willing to take care of him.
Was he doing everything right or everything wrong?
The two of you return home, with Tommy hauling more gifts that you had bought him. He really wasn't able to protest, with you somehow disappearing from sight conveniently, to his horror that he somehow lost you like a puppy in the park, and then finding you suddenly swiping your card at a register.
He should feel bad, truly, but you were just in such a good mood, he didn't want to seem ungrateful. And he also.... really liked all of it.
"Oh these are so fuckin nice!" He cheers, pulling out the new sneakers you had just bought in it's wrapping paper. "Mine are--"
"Old and ratty, yes I know that's why I bought them. Sick of your nasty shoes trailing my house--"
"S-sorry--"
"Bought you some fuzzy slippers too so you can switch out when you come in."
"Im not really a slippers guy..."
"You are now."
You ended up making a quick spaghetti, slapping him away every time he tried to hover in the kitchen. "I wanna stand! good exercise!" you nod with a smile.
And it seemed like you meant it. Despite babyzilla cooking and ready to burst out, you were light on your feet in the kitchen. Like a ballerina dancing and swaying, you hummed to a tune in your head as you tasted the sauce on the spatula. You were in the zone, in your world. and it was genuinely... beautiful. He understood it now, when people say pregnant women glow. the entire time, Joel always said you did, but he only ever saw how tired the pregnancy made the both of you.
Was... Joel the problem?
After a hearty dinner, Tommy washed up the dishes. You said your goodnights and headed to your master bedroom, tucked in, and lights off just as Tommy gathered his pillows down the hall in the guest bedroom.
He sighs, laying on his belly and inhaling the fresh linen before closing his eyes.
Not more than a few moments pass before he hears some sniffles down the hall. Then again, a cough and whine.
He sits up and heads down to your room, the door cracked and dark. he flips the light switch on to see you sitting upright in your bed, rubbing your eyes.
"You okay?" he asks softly.
"M'good!" you give him two thumbs up. "Night!"
He nods and flips the switch off again, turning away. he doesn't make it two steps before he hears your unmistakable crying.
He turns the lights back on to see you wiping fat tears from your cheeks, sobbing into your shirt--Joel's shirt.
"Hey...what's wrong? Are you okay? ya in pain? What can I--"
You pull your face up, lips trembling and all tear soaken. He sees your clutching one of Joel's jackets in your hands, wrapped tightly like you don't want it to leave you. A completely emotional mess as you huff and puff.
He puts the pieces together. "Ya miss Joel, don't you--"
"I MISS HIMMMMMM!!!!!!!!" you wail, erupting into a long cry into the air with slunked shoulders and larger tears strolling down from the creases of your closed eyes.
He tightens his lips awkwardly, not wanting to let out a chuckles. Turns out big scary pregnant "later fucker" wife really did love that dumbass. Its also probably the first time he sees bags under your eyes, like you were hiding your exhaustion. When Joel is around, you almost never looked tired. Just pouty and groutchy like a spoiled senior cat.
Maybe Joel wasnt the problem, but the solution. He knew how to take care of you, knew what you needed when you needed it, knew when to put his foot down, and even when hed watch you two bicker and bitch, joel knew exactly how to get you in bed wrapped around him like gumby. Every. Single. Night.
He rubs your arm soothingly.
"Why"-hiccup--"did he"--sniffle--"leave me!"
"He aint leave ya, just had some work."
"HE HATES ME!!!!!!!!!"
He shakes his head, knowing you're inconsolable. rather than trying to reason, he brings you to his shoulder so you can cry your heart out on him as he hugs you. "There there," he hums, swaying you two side to side.
like a crying toddler indeed.
"M'sorry," you whimper, rubbing your eyes with your balled fists. "Wakin' you up, me crying like this. I can't--I can't help it some times..." your voice waivers, face warm in embarrassment that you're burdening Tommy so much.
"Don't sweat it. You did a lot today. Can I get you anything to cheer you up?" he suggests, expecting a trip down to the freezer for a nice tub of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cr--
"Can you get the jar of pickles?"
That...is fine too.
He brings up the largest jar of dill pickles he's ever seen in his life, sets them in your lap. He pops open the sturdy lid for your eager fingers to pull a long dill out and slink it into your lips. the satisfying crunch echoes in the room as you munch.
You start crying again. "I Fucking HATE Pickles!" you groan angrily before taking another generous crunch with a confusingly delightful hum. "Like--I hate it, but they're good?"
He chuckles, taking a piece. He pauses, eying you fearfully as if he made a wrong move not asking your permissions to take one of your hated yet coveted pickles. You nod, and the two of you crunch down on the peculiar snack.
"It's probably from the baby..."
"Fuckin' weirdo." you pat the rounded hump of your tummy and swallow the rest of your slice. Though, the way you stroke along the skin so delicately with a little smirk, he knows you're already in love with your "fuckin weirdo" baby more than anyone could love anything in this world.
Tommy never really thought about the word "uncle" until this moment, and the first emotion he has to associate it with, is excitement.
"Mkay. I'm done now." You hold the jar out to him so he can close it. "Thank you, Tommy," you say sweetly with the gentlest, sleepiest smile. "I really appreciate it."
THIS IS THE ANGEL JOEL HAS THE NERVES TO COMPLAIN ABOUT????
He swears, if Joel comes back and calls him up later saying how insufferable you are, he may just have to size up and smack his big brother.
Tommy pats your head, tucks you in again and turns of the lights.
-
The next day you make Tommy take you to breakfast and get him as many pancakes and French toast he can stuff his face with. A spoiled little brother indeed, and as he swallows another lump of the best breakfast eggs he's ever had, he wonders how sweet life would have been with a big sister like you spoiling him every day instead of Joel making him do chores and shit.
Its not until Joel is meeting the two of you at a lunch spot that Tommy remembers exactly what Joel always groans about.
"Hi baby!" He grins, rushing to give you a big hug for the first time in two days.
And despite your crying for him last night, you only retort with "sup fucker" casually and near bored, as if you weren't sniffing his jacket and Wagging your imaginary tail in disguise.
Joel purses his lips sarcastically, knowing you mean well, and Tommy laughs. You two definitely understood each other way better than he thought.
"Im gonna wash my hands, you two get a table," Joel says, and disappears down the back entrance.
Your waitress greets you just as Tommy is helping you slide down into the booth, big baby belly and all.
"Just three waters, please,"
"And a pepsi! Lots of ice. Two pepsis actually. And bread. And maybe like uh milkshake to start off?--"
The waitress glances at Tommy with a raised brow, wondering if you're genuine or not. He shrugs and nods, noting "she's pretty far along if ya can tell."
"My older sister was the same way. I'll get that in. You two...sorry I shouldn't say it but you two make a cute couple--" she says kindly.
Unfortunately, its exactly at the same Joel returns and hears that last bit, directed towards you and Tommy.
She walks away just as you catch Joels bewildered expression, conveniently with Tommy's hand on your bump and another around your lower back (supporting you into the booth of course but JOEL doesn't see it that way with this new context).
You and Tommy open your mouths to dismiss the claim and misunderstanding, but ever defensive Joel just shoves Tommy aside, slides into your booth next to you and slams your hand into his lap, his bear paws enclosed around yours. Tommy quietly slides into the opposite end, met with Joels flaring nostrils and billowing steam coming out of them.
The younger Miller realizes that slapping some sense into Joel and "sizing him up" was a total pipe dream. He'd be lucky to live long enough to an uncle at this point.
You gotta defend your poor brother in law. "The waitress just saw--"
"Cute couple, huh," he seethe with gritted teeth his entire seething focus at Tommy rather than paying any mind to you.
"Joel stop, Tommy was REALLY great to me this weekend--"
"Oh I BET he was," he grunts, turning towards you with a scowl. "S'that why he got new shoes on?" Joel damn well knows Tommy didn't just pony up and buy new shit for himself this weekend, given he refuses to buy himself anything new for years past it's expiration.
Tommy knows he's never allowed to baby sit you alone again at this rate.
"She was crying last night saying how much she missed ya," Tommy blurts.
You kick his shin under the table, not wanting to let Joel know what a pathetic groveling mess--
"Wait really!?" he nuzzles closer to your, as if all the anger in his body dissipated at the notion his poor little wife was calling out for her hubby.
Tommy chuckles and nods. "We shared some pickles in bed, ain't that right?"
You slap your face just as Joel rears his once again flaring red face towards Tommy. "You did WHAT in WHERE????"
- - - -
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