#it's what they deserve *vindictive smile*

[artinvain]

Toxic bff Abby that denies she is in love with you but is extremely possessive over you and basically treats you like her gf, but still fucks other girls imagining you; getting jealous seeing ANYONE else come near you. NEED IT PLS

toxic!bff!abby x reader

Abby’s so insecure and she lets it rule everything she does. she can't seem to get it right -- more plot and angst than i intended. lesbian smut under the cut - men and minors dni

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it happens every time. abby gets drunk when you have a fight and does something stupid to forget about you. she could see you dancing up against her from the rival basketball team. and although abby would usually rip you from their arms and dance with you herself — feel your ass grind up against her crotch, let you control where her hands went as you dance — she can’t do that tonight.

abby had seen you at the bar for the pre-party, the girl you’re with buying you drinks, resting her hand on your thigh, inching ever so close to your face and leaning in for a kiss, and abby seethed with every brush of your lips. finally seeing red when you get down from your bar stool to stand between her legs.

abby could see the girl you were with now and it coloured her vision crimson. ellie fucking williams. of all people you could flirt with. abby had to think you were being vindictive — trying to get back at her for when she ditched you to get with tammy instead of take you to an art gallery like she’d promised for weeks.

It wasn’t completely her fault although abby could come up with a million excuses to absolve herself but the prevailing one would always be that she was a fucking coward. it felt too much like a date. a real date that she wants to take you on — not as her friend. but abby couldn't stand the thought of you rejecting her.

she could see it so vividly in her head -- you turning away from her, your face contorted in distaste "but abby, we're just friends." you would say "i could never see you like that." and abby would understand. because you were too good for her -- too smart, funny, kind, you gave her too many chances because your heart is so big. abby didn't deserve someone who could colour the world and scrub out the black and white monotony of every day life.

abby didn't realise she was gripping your arm so tight it could be bruising, she'd been glowering down at ellie, seething and her mouth practically foamed with her hard ragged breaths. "the fuck is wrong with you anderson?" ellie snarls, abby twists her mouth and "you, are all over my best friend,"

"and you're best friend -- who is right here -- is fine with it," you snatch your arm from abby's grip. you couldn't even fight her at this point. she was colder to you recently, she sold you excuses for her distance, came to your apartment still dewy and smelling like someone else. she'd been rubbing it in your face that she wanted nothing to do with you. you ignored that she didn't reply when you'd casually told her you loved her after she dropped you off at home last week. but you couldn't keep walking into apartment as other women walked out past you, a drunken smile plastered on their faces. she did this every few weeks and you were sick of it, but this time was worse than usual.

"go hang out with tammy or whoever," you back into ellie rubbing your arm and abby swallowed, her eyes catching yours -- hollow as they'd never been when looking at her. but just last week you had told her you loved her. could that change so quickly? had she gone too far? abby's fists clenched, bouncing on her weak knees.

"I- we need to talk," abby says without thinking and she immediately wanted to punch herself.

'talk about what?' abby thought to herself, she could never tell you that she loved you back, that more than that she worshipped you. she could neve tell you that every time she looked at you -- she fought not to let her face heat up. abby couldn't tell you that her chest puffed up with pride that she could call you -- something so precious hers. her best friend. you are the only person she ever wanted to be around really.

"I'm leaving," you say with a deep breath as ellie puts a few paper bills on the bar counter, one in the tip jar and slides her hand onto the small of your back. "get yourself together. i'll see you later maybe."

now abby had to watch you dance with ellie, smiling with your arms draped over should shoulders while ellie whispered in your ear. she downed her shot and then decided not to beat ellie up because she didn't want to be benched the entire season. so, instead she put her jacket on and approached you with her head hanging low.

your movements halt as abby stands near the both of you, "can we talk?" abby asks, her watery blue eyes slowly rising to meet yours. you sigh and turn to kiss ellie's cheek goodnight before leading abby out of the house and down the street.

"I'm really sorry," abby says as you walk slow into the crisp autumn evening.

"for what abby?"

"everything," she shrugs and tries a chuckle but coughs awkwardly when you glare at her. "so, you don't have anyone to take home tonight?" you question and abby sighs, running her hands over her face. "come on, don't be like that," abby says and stops in front of her truck opening the passenger door for you.

"I'm not getting in unless you tell me what you're sorry for."

abby groans, clenching her jaw and resting her hands against her bumper, leaning on it and ducking her head.

"I'm sorry I've been such a sloppy asshole this week. I'm sorry i tried to make you jealous and I'm sorry that I didn't reply when you said it. because I should have."

you know what abby is talking about but god, she can't even say it. it fucking wrecks you because she doesn't value you enough to even tell you what you mean to her, if you mean anything at all. you start to walk past her, "hey wait, oh my god -- I love you!"

abby yells, her mouth parts but no other words come to her. she swallows thickly when you turn around, the tears on your face matching hers.

"I'm sorry I'm a fucking idiot and I didn't tell you sooner but i don't love you like a friend. I am in love with you, okay? and - and I'm a shitty person and I don't wanna mess us up,"

abby can't stand your silence but when she looks up, there you are. standing so close to her she can feel your warm breath on her cheeks.

"do you promise to at least give us a chance?"

abby, cups the back of your neck and presses a soft kiss to your mouth as her answer, pulls your body flush to her so she can lean over you and lick into your mouth. moan as you suck on her tongue.

"m'sorry, so sorry sweetheart," abby whispers in between kisses as she feels your tears on her cheeks, "let me make it up to you."

abby drives you not far down the road to her place, her hand on your all the time, pressing kisses to your knuckles until she shuts the door behind you and kisses you again, this time her hands going down to your ass, gripping and squeezing, her mouth beginning to pepper kisses up and down your neck.

you whine when abby backs you into the hallway of her loft, behind the kitchen wall ands falls on top of you on her bed. "i swear to god, everything will be different," abby moans, as you grip her hand and bring it to your breast, where she takes the liberty to start pressing kisses to your chest, removing your clothes feverishly. you whine as she pulls away from you, catching her breath.

"do you not?" you ask shakily and abby cups your cheek.

"i do, i do. i just wanted it to be different. I didn't want to be fighting with you." abby whimpers when you grip her and pull her close so she's laying on top of you. "then, show me it'll be different."

abby takes her time lathering you chest when she removes your bra, kissing your tits and moaning as she sucks your nipples into her mouth, her hips starting to falter against you thigh. no matter how many women she'd been with. she never could get off. she didn't feel much of anything unless she thought of you, played your three words over and over again in her mind. but now, now she had the real thing and she's too desperate stop herself.

she flicks her fingers over your wet nipples, "so fucking pretty," she whines against you, massaging your tits and sucking marks between your chest as she pulls them close to her chest, moaning and grinding down on your hips going again to suck and swap nipples to wet and play with while your hips started to buck against hers.

"shit fuck, m'gonna cum, fuck i'm so sorry," she's utterly embarrassed, hides her face in your neck and she whines loudly, her fingers still playing with your nipples as she cums. you gasp and chuckle, unbelievably wetter at watching her cum just from sucking on your tits.

"i'm so fucking sorry-" "for what? for feeling good?" you mumble and press a kiss to her mouth, guiding her hand between the two of you so she can feel how wet she's making you, "always been a mess f'me," she groans, her fingers starting to circle your clit, hearing you moan she ducks her head into your neck again to kiss and mark you.

"i love you," abby moans as her fingers dig into your panties and start to slide into you, your gummy, wet walls inviting her in. "christ, you're so wet," she moans and she kisses down your torso and removes your shorts and panties, her mouth latching to your clit and she starts moaning, licking and twist her head so she's making circles on your clit while her fingers curl and fuck into you.

"fuck, abby! yes, yes please more," you yelp, your legs falling open and abby pulls them over her shoulders licking the wetness around her fingers in your cunt and groaning as she does so at your taste, another finger twisting into your sweet pussy she can't help but grin against you, licking and lapping at your clit, as you cum, her thumb coming to circle it instead.

"you look so pretty all fucked out f'me," she moans, pressing a hand down on your belly and fucking her fingers deeper, moaning at the way your mouth falls open, and your legs start to shake, "i love you, i fucking love you baby," she whines and you're spurting against her hand, licking up over your clit and sucking it, your taste filling her mouth.

"swear i'm gonna be better, i promise," abby says as she gently caresses you, cupping your cheek and rubbing her hands over your body. abby silently presses a sticky kiss to your temple and disappears as you catch your breath.

"haven't used it with anyone else," abby assures you when you look at her strap on quizzical and yet biting your lip as she clambers over you. "you're everything to me, i'm so sorry for everything," abby says as she lines herself up with you, her strap already covered in lube. you nod when abby hovers over you and she sighs when she finally sinks into you, your eyes crossing at the way it curls perfectly into your gspot, the ridged cock stimulating every part of your pussy.

"was saving this for you- fuck," she whimpers as the strap starts to vibrate against her and you whine loudly as it tremors inside you. "wanted to feel this good with you and you only" she moans gasping into your mouth as you press her close when abby starts to fucking into you.

you're both so overstimulated it doesn't take much of her deep, wet thrusts until you're crying against her shoulder, biting into it as you both cum again. you push abby out at the pain of the overstimulation and she rips the strap off of her in the same manner, turning it off.

after abby rocks you both to sleep, she's woken by her phone ringing, at reading the caller ID she moves into her bathroom, pressing a kiss to your shoulder and whispering into the phone.

"i fucking told you not to call," abby whispers, turning over to look at your sleeping form under her sheets.

"no, tammy -- enough. I'm done fucking around," she groans and near hangs up until tammy whispers something over the line, something you can't quite make out, all you can hear is.

"jesus christ, okay, I'll be over soon."

"where are you going?" you ask as abby gets dressed, "tammy-" "are you fucking serious?" you chuckle in disbelief pulling your clothes on in a hurry.

"no, you don't understand -- wait!" abby calls as you pick your jacket up from off the floor and shuffle your shoes on.

"I'm done waiting for you abby. you couldn't even last a day."

"please, stay -- i just, you don't understand," abby pleads, holding onto your forearm.

"then explain,"

abby fumbles for something, anything. you weren't supposed to hear anything, you were supposed to stay asleep. abby just needed to be gone a few hours, she just needed to take care of things with tammy one last time and then she was yours. she just wanted to make sure.

"so, you're not sure you love me?" you roll your eyes as abby rubs her face in her hands.

"if i stay, abby, what does that say about me?" you sniffle and snatch your arm from her grip for the last time today.

"i hope you get what you're looking for anderson," you nod and pull your phone out of your pocket, texting ellie to pick you up if she was still awake.

ellie: be there in 2 mins.

"see you around," you purse your lips and close the door behind you, your ears rushing with blood so loudly you can't hear abby breaking into sobs behind the door.

tags: @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz

[coralinnii]

Can I please request Cater, Ace, Deuce and Epel helping you after a rough break up (with someone else, not them)?

‧₊˚✧ Let me love you until you love yourself ‧₊˚✧

↳ Helping you after a rough breakup 

feat: Cater ❋ Ace ❋ Deuce ❋ Epel genre: hurt/comfort note: no pronouns were used with the reader, reader is implied to be Yuu!reader, depictions of toxic relationships, implications of violence,

Similar prompt: finding out you got brutally rejected

2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023

You see, Cater already had a suspicion that your boyfriend wasn’t the greatest pick. Years of listening to his older sisters talk about red flags to look out has honed his sixth sense about these kind of stuff.

But what was he supposed to tell you? He’s not going to just barge into your relationship and tell you that he feels some off vibes about your man. All he could do was be there for you when you needed an ear to hear you out. 

But he started to notice that you were less like yourself as the relationship went on. Your Magicam account wasn’t as active and soon even your close friends weren’t sure when was the last time you hung out with them. Cater could only catch you in class or with your glaring boyfriend clinging to you. 

Your relationship finally hit an ugly crescendo when your boyfriend publicly humiliated you and ended things in the open hallway. The reason Cater learned was because you wanted to go out with your friends again, even if he didn’t want to. 

Night Raven College has a knack for choosing students with rather vindictive personalities and no matter how subtle it is, Cater is no different. The sociable redhead may not always be the type to step up to lead or start something, but he is more than willing to teach a tactless underclassman a lesson on respect.

It doesn’t matter which dorm your ex is from since the extrovert Cater has friends and contacts of all the Housewardens, vice Housewardens and other notable students with authority. Call it his privilege for his chatty nature and years on this large campus.

With a charming set of words and implications from the smooth-talking Cater, most of them picked up the hint that a certain jerk needed some well-deserved punishment. For disgracing the dorm’s dignity, they all claimed. 

With the personified ick dealt with, all of Cater’s attention is on you. The versatile upperclassman can be anything you need in your time of healing. Cafe dates, unhinged frustration venting, screaming karaoke sessions with a chill support group (an exclusive privilege courtesy of the Pop Music Club), or a judgeless crying session as he held you together both metaphorically and literally. 

The screaming karaoke and dessert binging was fun and all, but the feeling of Cater’s warm hands as he gently rubbed your back as you hiccuped through your tears was a healing moment that left you raw but appreciative. 

Perhaps there was a little bit of guilt, or even something deeper within his heart for you, but as he wrapped his arms around you closer whilst you fell asleep in comfort, Cater thought to himself to protect you from something like this for as long as he can stay with you, for as long as he could do to stay with you.

“Hey now, no tears. Cay-Cay to the rescue!” 

Oh he hated your ex from day 1. No, it wasn’t because of his personal feelings for you, it was just literally everything about that jerk. At every chance, Ace would snidely comment and jeer the as*hole. The only reason he would stop was if you personally asked him to get along with him. 

“Tch. Fine, I guess” 

So Ace is a liar, but at least he’s a good actor. He’s willing to smile and laugh but he never lets the suspicious feeling fade. 

That suspicion quickly became rage when Grim told him that jerk of yours broke up with you over text. 

Turns out your (ex) boyfriend was dating you in hopes to catch the attention of a crush from his hometown, sending pictures in hopes to stir up some jealousy. Questions became screaming matches in your room and soon you were left a broken mess alone in your bedroom.

When Ace knocked on your door sometime later, you saw him in a familiar heart-shaped collar which wasn’t a surprising image. Without saying much, all Ace offered as a vague explanation was that he got into a fight with some jerk student.

As Ace was getting comfortable on your sofa, Cater later texted you, giving full details of what happened. Turns out the “jerk student” was your ex who was running his mouth oh how you were crazy and unbearable out in the courtyard, where Ace was passing by.

“Riddle is pretty pissed right now. Ace just went crazy on him and wouldn’t let up until we pulled him away. But still, be kind to him, k? He had good intentions.” 

Sitting together on the sofa, the two of you made quite an interesting image. Your eyes were red with wet tracks all over your face from crying while Ace had swollen patches of blue and black on his normally boyishly charming face. 

You broke the tension. “You didn’t need to do that, you know.” 

Ace brushed your words off. “What are you talking about? I did it for me. That dude always rubbed me the wrong way.” 

Ace is a liar, but strangely you didn’t mind it when he did it.

“Just so we’re clear, I didn’t do it for you. Alright? Good, so don’t go thinking too deep into it…”

A model student would support all of his peers, Deuce convinced himself. It was why he kept himself from just straight-up wrecking this punk that you found yourself dating. But Deuce trusts you. Maybe Deuce’s misjudging him since he can’t imagine you falling for someone beneath you, and he assumed that despite how he feels about your partner, this dude wouldn’t be stupid enough to not treat you good. 

But unbeknownst to Deuce, arguments were common in your relationship with your insecure partner. From complaining that you don’t spend time with him (um, because you were busy saving your friends from overblot?) to outright blaming you for emasculating him in his own relationship because of your popularity in school for your accomplishments. 

The breakup itself was honestly anti-climatic, and everyone could see it from a while away so it came to the surprise of no one. 

It was the aftermath of all of the arguments with your ex that truly hurt you. What was once a source of pride to you became reasons of your anxiety as you wondered if your ex held truth in his accusations. 

“You think you’re perfect ‘cause you’re doing a little better than me? Get over your high horse, you pretentious b-“

“Are you ok?” Deuce’s voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, bringing you back to the library where you were helping Deuce with a subject he was failing. 

You tried smiling but Deuce noticed the tenseness of your features and try asking once more, which led you to ultimately voicing your worries. 

“Maybe I was being too boastful, I shouldn’t just talk about me- Wait, Deuce?!” 

You managed to catch Deuce by the hem of his sleeve before flinching at the sight of the glaring rage in Deuce’s fiery eyes. 

“Where is that no-good coward! That punk’s getting what's coming to him!” 

It took some time (and getting kicked out from the library) for Deuce to finally settle his rage. Still, he was muttering some choice words to describe your ex which made you chuckle just a little. You wanted the breakup to be civil and simply pass as an unpleasant memory but you admit that seeing someone get mad for your sake was…nice. Almost heart-warming, really.

Suddenly, Deuce turned to face you. Back straight and his strong fist firmly pressed to his chest, Deuce looked to you with pure honesty as he promised to protect you from your worthless ex with everything he’s got. 

It took you quite some time to admit that when Deuce made that promise, you felt your heart skip a beat. 

“If anyone gives you grief for that, just ignore 'em. Let me handle them, I’m pretty strong.”

Romance honestly flies over Epel’s head. Afterall, the relationships he’s seen are his town’s couples who've been married for decades with kids all grown up, and the ones he’s seen in films and books. All he knew was, if you like someone and you’re dating them, you should be counting yer lucky stars and make sure you treat them right.

So, imagine the genuine look of surprise on his face when his dormmates whispered rumors that you were caught in an ugly argument with your boyfriend, with accusations that your man was actually cheating with someone supposedly prettier than you. 

Now, imagine his unbridled rage when Epel found that it was true. Your ex-boyfriend apparently held high expectations of himself and the partners he deemed to be worthy by his side. While he settled for you, he was looking around for another companion that “best suits his standards” as he said. 

It took a strict scolding and promise of harsh reprimanding from Vil to calm the young freshman down as his hometown habits rushed back to him. How he wanted to give that no-good son of a backyard mutt a mighty beating for what he did to you.

Instead, Vil suggested that Epel rather hit him where it would really hurt for unsavory fellows like him, through his pride. 

“If he thought he was better off with someone that “best suits his standards” as he put it, try proving to him he ended up with what he deserved. ” 

After deciphering what Vil meant, Epel used his noggin to hurt your ex where it really hurts. No longer was he the runt of a small village, but a man with various connections and skills to get a leg over his enemies. 

With his persistence, he convinced his Spelldrive captain, Leona to sit with you during lunch, and have the Vil Schoenheit spoil you with high-end gifts in public. With the attention of the most famous students showing you favor, everyone in NRC whispered and commented on who really won in the breakup. 

“He cheated while dating someone like that? What a mistake.” 

Behind his soft expression, Epel mentally smirked at the plummeting image of the man who prioritized fame over love. "You darn right a mistake it was, he thought.

In the entire time Epel treated you like the most important person on campus…in public at least.

In the privacy of your dormroom, you worked hard in holding in your laughter as Epel swore up a storm like a drunken sailor about the worthless ex of yours. Like Vil, it’ll be up to you to make sure he won’t go off picking a fight with your ex. 

Still, there was something undeniably true to Epel’s character to defend your honor, however he does it. 

“I ain’t too good at these sneaky schemes, but you gotta admit I got ‘im real good. Don’t cha think?”

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Hunger

Pairing: Dark Dabi x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: Leaving you with an empty stomach is the first step for Dabi’s plan to break you. 

WARNINGS: Implied Kidnapping; Starvation; Manipulation.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

Finally entering the Bnha fandom. Give me more ideas, pls, a girl doesn't know what to write :)

–

You wince at the pain that blossoms in your middle.

Your stomach far too tired to growl properly, having resigned to prolonged painful pangs - a pitiful form of begging to which you can’t answer. Your whole body feels weak, no strength left in your limbs aside from a dizzy mind that keeps drifting away.  

You can’t even remember when was the last time you ate something - courtesy from Dabi. He is a vindictive asshole, you knew that from the start.

Wasn't that the reason you got yourself kidnapped? Your constant refusal to his advances snapping him off enough to kidnap you.

But you didn’t think he’d make you starve for days as retaliation for all the yelling and shouting the nastiest insults you could find at the black-haired man. 

You’d kill for a single bite of that delicious crusty pizza you ate that one time. Or that mouth-watering hamburger that so often appears in television advertisements.

Just the memory of food has your stomach hurting even more and you curl your arms around your body in the bed, feeling yourself getting weaker by the minute. 

As time tediously drags by, you fall into a light slumber, wincing at the regular stomach aches. 

The faint noise of the apartment door opening barely means anything to you, however the subtle aroma of warm food that reaches your nose triggers your eyes open. 

It floats through the small apartment, the smell of delicious cuisine bringing water to your dry mouth and you gulp. Are you dreaming?

Footsteps and the chickling of plates is all your ears catch and it doesn’t take long before Dabi appears at the door, holding a plastic tupperware.

���Wakey wakey, sweetheart. Look what I got here.”

You sniff, head rising fragilely and your stomach growls loudly. Dabi chuckles at that, stepping closer to you.

“Looks like someone is hungry.” he opens the container and you almost choke when the luscious smell of seasoned food hits your nostrils. 

One of your hands unconsciously raises, fingers greedily reaching for the tupperware but Dabi is quick in moving it away from your reach, placing it on the floor behind him, knowing there’s no way for you to reach it given the heavy chain attached to your ankle. 

“Now, now, sweetheart, where are your manners?” 

“I’m hungry…” your weak voice brings a feline smile on Dabi’s voice, features twisting with pleasure at the hunger in your face, your cheeks slightly sunken with malnutrition.

“Not so strong now, are we? What happened? Got yourself into a diet?” he maliciously retorts. 

He slowly sits at the edge of the bed, blue eyes attentive to your reaction but you offer him none.

You’re too tired, too hungry to put up with him. The pit in your belly only worsens with each second and you’re about to beg Dabi when his hand reaches for your face, tenderly caressing your cheek. 

The momentaneous satisfaction in his disfigured face is broken into irritation when you recoil, pulling your face away from him, avoiding his touch.

His fingers harden into an angry fist and he scowls for a moment before forcing himself to calm down. 

“Always an ungrateful brat, aren’t you? An ungrateful stupid brat.” his eyes get colder as he glares at you. “Never able to appreciate all the things I do for you, huh? Always so-”

He stops, shaking his head before straightening his back and then he smiles - a wicked terrifying smile that has you forgetting about your devastating hunger - as he shrugs his shoulders. 

“Nah, but you know what? Brats don’t deserve to eat anyways.” he shakes some invisible dust off his long jacket, sighing as he starts to stand up,

“Well, guess I’m just gonna eat all that delicious food all by myself since I got no one to share it with. I even bought those delicious crispy chips you liked so much, but oh well.” 

You blink, panic and hunger bubbling in your body as you hopelessly reach for the cloth of his jacket. 

“No, Dabi, please!” you cry out, swallowing the last of your pride and honor as you beg, and he slowly sits back on the bed, “I’m sorry, okay? Please…”

His jaw twitches with enjoyment and the corner of his lips curl. 

“Yeah, is that so? Little brat wants to be a good girl now?” 

You nod eagerly despite the knot that tightens in your heart, but you can’t afford to think about any of this. You have to eat. 

“You sure about that? I’m not forcing you or anything, right?” 

The irony of his words would make you roll your eyes if you had the energy for such.

“Then say it. Loud and clear, so there’s no doubt left.”

“I-” you lose track of the words at the sight of his electrifying blue eyes, “I want to be a good girl.”

“Then you can start by acting like a good girl. Come here.” he taps his lap, his hand latching onto your wrist and you don’t resist when Dabi softly tugs you towards him.

A whimper escapes you when your frail muscles are forced to move using the last of your scarce energies but at the end you find yourself perched on top of Dabi’s lap, one leg awkwardly bent while the other lays straight, the chain on your ankle fully stretched.

His arms waste no time wrapping themselves around your waist, your arms getting caught in the way. He nuzzles into your neck, humming in delight despite the obvious tension in your body

“Are you sure you want to be fed? Cause you sure don’t seem very enthusiastic.” his dab is enough to snap you out of your transe and you turn your face towards him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek, cringing when your lips touch the cold staples. 

“That’s better.” he opens into a wide smile. “Wasn’t so hard, after all, huh?”

The rumble from your stomach has you wincing. “Can I eat now?” 

Dabi doesn’t mind you, too busy peppering kisses over the expanse of your shoulder.

“Dabi?”

“Hum, maybe in a while.” he winks at you, and you feel sick to your stomach despite having eaten nothing.

“I need to make sure that my good girl doesn’t turn bad.”

[lux-aurea-lunae]

Prompt 4 - Revenge

Hero found Villain sitting on the edge of a roof. They sat down beside them, trying to see what was so captivating about the view that Villain hadn't noticed their arrival. Finding nothing, they decided to break the silence. "Your end target is Superhero."

In the year they've been chasing Villain, they noticed that their schemes seemed to be building to something, but Hero had never been sure of what. "If you're here to talk me out of revenge, it's not going to work," Villain stated bluntly, not taking their eyes off the street below.

"No, I wasn't going to. I know what they did to you. I'm sorry that happened. No one deserves that." Villain finally looked at them.

"Then why are you here?" they asked sceptically.

"To talk you out of murder?" Hero asked hopefully. Villain scoffed. "Think about it. If you kill them now, they'll be regarded as a hero who tragically lost their life to a villain. I know you'd hate that."

Villain mauled that over. "What are you suggesting?"

Hero relaxed a bit, relieved Villain was hearing them out. Now they just had to sell their idea. "Instead of killing them, why don't you destroy their reputation? Expose them for the fraud they are?" Hero handed Villain a flash drive. "That has a bunch of Superhero's incident reports on it: property damage, civilian casualties, the works. Everything you need to ruin their image."

Villain looked between Hero and the flash drive in their hand, a vindictive, triumphant smile spreading across their face and an unmistakable fondness directed at Hero. Then they declared, "I don't care if I'm legally a criminal. I'm going to find a way to marry you."

[thrashkink-coven]

Okay here’s the hard part.

I think a lot about that guy, so called Jesus, and his philosophy of radical forgiveness and empathy. For a long time I thought that was just a line abusers use to force their victims to forgive them (AND IT IS)

But! I also think about Lucifer and the things he taught me regarding the concept of hell. If I was the ruler of hell and I had to manage all these terrible people, what would I do? Torture them? Give them endless suffering so they feel guilty? Do to them what they did to others so they can understand how bad it feels?

Latinos who voted for Trump, oh you disappoint me, but no, I don’t want you to be deported. Women who voted for Trump, *sigh*, no, I don’t want to see you get an ectopic pregnancy or carry your dead baby. No I do not want all those conservative gays to lose their right to marriage. And no, I don’t even want all of those fucked up fascist nazi racists to die.

It would be SO satisfying to see them get what they deserve, right?

God, I’m so sick of being apart of a species that loves to conquer. We bleed, they win, they bleed, we win. I’m sick of patching wounds. All I see is hellfire.

My friend Taylor Mcnallie is facing fraudulent charges because of an altercation that happened while she was protesting in Calgary. The bitch of a cop who assaulted her not only received no punishment, she got a fucking promotion. I remember during one of Taylor’s speeches someone said something like “I hope she gets arrested and goes to jail,” and Taylor said, “I don’t hope she goes to jail. Jail shouldn’t exist. I just want her to get fired and apologize. That’s all I want.”

Pacifism, true pacifism, like the kind that guy preached about, doesn’t mean laying down and accepting every terrible thing assholes do to you with a smile. It means taking away their ability to harm without harming them yourself. Eliminating the evil without becoming evil. Punching nazis does not make you a nazi, but praying for the death and destruction of people, human beings, because you hate them as much as they hate you? *sigh*

The hardest part about this whole radical empathy thing, is the fact that I cannot even wish harm upon those who want me dead. Isn’t that funny? That literal neo nazi, yeah, I hope he has shelter. Fuck I hope that rapist still eats tonight. I hope he feels shame until the day he dies, but I don’t hope he gets raped in prison. I don’t even want him in prison to be honest, I want him to be cared for, and I want his ability to do harm stripped away.

“Even if he hurts a child?”

God damn it, yes. I can’t add more suffering into the world, even if it is inflicted upon the people I’d love to hate most. I want to take away his power to do evil, I want everyone to know what kind of person he is and the terrible things he does so they can keep themselves safe… and then I want him to be safe.

I want all those terfs to have clean drinking water. I know they hate my guts, ugh, it is what it is. But praying that they experience the pain they’ve caused me, hoping that they die or suffer only makes me more like them.

WHICH SUCKS. This way of thinking is NOT satisfying AT ALL!!! Being vindictive and petty is FUN and it FEELS GOOD!!! That’s why it’s so fucking easy, and that’s why we keep eating each other over and over again.

Having said all of this, we should definitely bring back the guillotine lmao. I’m not saying that we should be super nice to people who are trying to kill us, do fight back. If the people need to kill their oppressors to be free then, hey, I’m not going to tell them they’re wrong for that. This isn’t a “we should all hug and sing kumbaya together! Kindness is always the way!!!” take. If the only way to bring death to the empire is to bring death to its owners, then so be it. Do so in the way that produces the least amount of degradation to your soul.

But wishing natural disasters on Texas, hoping that that racist woman’s parents get deported, out of spite and hatred… what are they doing to you? What are you doing to yourself?

Humanity is disgusting, truly truly abhorrent. I want to be able to look at us and embrace us with acceptance of that. Every single fucking terrible person on this earth deserves liberty, life, and freedom. Even when you spit in my face and hurt the people I love, damn it, I won’t hurt you. I see you as a rabid animal that needs to be sedated and slowly acclimated to compassion. And I will keep trying, even if you never learn. I can’t give up on humanity.

This is the most important and the hardest part. I’m not telling you to forgive, forgiveness is for you. If it doesn’t serve you, don’t forgive. But don’t let people without humanity kill the humanity that exists within you. Don’t let hatred fester in your soul. You’re allowed to be mad, hell, you should be furious. Let that fury keep you warm, but do not become a monster too.

To all you stupid fucking fascist pieces of shit, I hope you get exactly what you deserve. And what you deserve is not death, pain or suffering. It’s self reflection and growth, guilt and humility. As much as I would enjoy seeing you hurt, I refuse to become like you. And damn it I love you, I love every human being on this planet. I love you so much that I cannot become you. I love you so fucking much that I will continue to fight for your rights even when you’re trying to take mine away. and I hate that I love you like this, but I can’t stop.

So I will stop you.

- James Baldwin

[aquatint-101]

They tell you that you are a god, that thousands of years of unnamed power thrums beneath your veins. Yet your lungs rise and fall as they always have, and you feel just as human as ever-

(Maybe you never have been. Maybe your only reference point is you, and that is where your error is gravest. If you have been a god all along, what would you know of being human?)

-x-

They start to fear you for the accident of your birth. You try to tell them that you are the same as you have always been. You play all the same games, throw pies off the stony balcony ledge and watch them land and burst open like overripe fruit, gooey cream exploding into the air.

But they stop smiling at your jokes. They stop listening to the songs you've learned to play on your flute. They never say we're not friends anymore, because it's not true, not exactly. Friends are people that can be trusted and you, you are not a person.

There is only one man in the world who thinks otherwise.

-x-

They want to take him away from you. They want to tear you from your home and your family and what little you have left. You have been taught not to be covetous, but this angers you.

So you run, like the wind that has been trapped between the trees. You see the wide, open sky and decide to conquer it, just like your people have for generations. But it's not the storm that swallows you; the waves claims you before the clouds can.

You sink to the ocean's depths, and your grip on the reins starts to falter.

(You are not human, and this keeps you alive. Perhaps it is the elements. Perhaps it is the magic. Perhaps it is something far older than both. Your eyes glow beneath your closed eyelids, and your tattoos burn with impossible light. You are breathing still.)

-x-

They want to ask you how you did it, want you to reach inside the depths of your murky memory and proffer your secrets to them. But you have no answers to give her when she keeps questioning how you forced the turning tides to do your bidding.

The answer is simple. You didn't, the monster did.

See, there is a monster inside of you. Not a god, because gods are never this angry, never this vindictive. The monster wants to rage and destroy everything it sees painted in red, but you will not let it. The monster eats you up when you get scared or angry, and you are never strong enough to make it go away.

She is. She calls out to you and her voice somehow lulls the monster back to sleep. She cradles you in her arms and tells you that you can let go. You think her words are lost on you, because you are not the monster.

-x-

They want to pull the monster out from inside you, and you let them. The monster has laid waste to armies while all you have done is run, run, run. Your people are gone because of you, but the monster saved you. Perhaps it can save them too.

She tells you in plain terms that she does not like this, and you can see the fear in her eyes when she talks about rage and pain and you. You do not know how to respond. Perhaps if you cut enough pieces of yourself away, the monster can finally save you both.

It's okay, you want to say. I'm scared of it too.

All you give her is cold, cold silence.

-x-

They are gone, and you are all that is left of them. They are gone, and it is you, two animals, and a monster that stubbornly claws its way out of you when you are forced to confront this fact. The monster is everything your people would have hated, because it aches for blood and vengeance in a way you never can.

(They are your people, they have to be, and you cannot be this other, this god, that they just raised like a cuckoo in the nest.)

In the desert, as the heat scorches your bare skin, you look at your shaking hands. You do not deserve to be the last of your kind, because now when anyone thinks about your culture of peaceful monks, they will think about the monster inside you.

-x-

They are right to fear the monster, and you are right in wanting to control it. You seek out someone who promises to help you tame it. He wears the saffron of your people but smiles sadly when he says he is not one of them. He tells you about your guilt and your fear, your hope and your longing, and all the things you have to confront.

And it doesn't make sense. This isn't about you, this is about excising the monster inside you.

But as you gulp down the horrible banana onion juice he insists on feeding you, the truth hits you like a falling meteor. There is no monster, no other force inside you that magically appears when you get sad or angry.

There has only ever been you.

-x-

They are disappointed that you cannot summon the monster anymore, but you are just relieved. The anger keeps building inside you, like a roaring flame or a rising tide or a towering mountain or a howling wind. Its pitch and roll keeps you up at night, the names of all you have lost black marks against the inside of your skin.

You try to be as you have always been, but your smiles never reach your eyes, and the notes of your flute always sound out in minor key. They probably notice that something is wrong, but they don't say much except to push you towards your destiny.

Your temples are in ruins, and they think you weak for trying to hold on to them. They think you weak for forgiving, not knowing that the alternative, letting the monster have at them, would have been far worse. But it's okay now, the monster can't hurt anyone ever again. You can't hurt anyone ever again.

-x-

They tell you to kill him, and you want to say no. The voices of your friends, the voices in your head, the voice of the monster, they all scream at you to just end it. But a smaller voice, one that speaks from your heart, just whispers in quiet opposition.

The monster is you, has been this whole time, but you are not a monster. You are more than a living relic or a god given flesh. You are a person, the last of your kind, and they all live on in you, so for their sakes and yours, you say no.

"I'm not going to end it like this."

[kckt88]

Don't Mess With My Mind II

Summary:

Aemond and Y/N continue their secret affair and Aegon discovers that his girlfriend is pregnant.

Features an Aemond POV.

Warning(s): Angst, Language, Hurt, Comfort, Alcohol Consumption, Mean Of Cheating, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), Unprotected P in V Sex, Confrontation, Violence.

Word Count: 3174

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

MODERN AU - AEMOND x Y/N - AEGON x Y/N

Inspired by the song: EMO - Don't Mess With My Mind.

Tag List: @immyowndefender, @zenka69, @iloveallmyboys, @summerposie, @namelesslosers, @dixie-elocin, @aemondsfavouritebastard, @toodlesxcuddles, @ammo23

Aemond remembered the first time Aegon brought Y/N back to their flat, she was such a timid little thing, almost like a mouse, not his brothers usual type at all.

But there was something about the way her eyes would light up when she smiled or the way she would bite her lower lip whenever she was reading.

It drove Aemond to distraction, never had he been so enamoured with anyone, not even his older ex who admittedly sucked his cock like a pro.

There were times when he would catch her looking at him wistfully from across the room and he would always wonder what she was thinking in that exact moment.

One day he caught her coming out of the shower with nothing, but a towel wrapped around her body and his cock responded in earnest.

That was the night he brought some big titted bimbo back to the flat, he closed his eye as he fucked her from behind, imagining that it was Y/N who was screaming his name and coming on his cock.

Another night he brought home some demure brown haired whisp of a woman, who he fucked into the mattress, his face pressed into her neck envisioning Y/N as he spilled into the condom.

The red head he brought home, now she was a freak. Never had any woman asked him to do anal on their first go but he was more than happy to oblige, he even invited her back for another go, but she began to get a bit clingy afterwards and he had to bin her off before she got worse.

He even resorted to seeing Alys again in between his slut phase, he would go to her flat and listen to her harp on about stuff he really didn’t give two shits about, then he would bend her over whatever surface was the closet and fuck her hard.

But nothing compared to Y/N.

Some nights he would hear Aegon fucking her, his brothers groans of pleasure sickening him to his stomach as he never once heard any of hers.

A woman like that deserved to be worshipped, she was a kindred spirit that needed releasing from the prison of his brother’s lacklustre affection.

But as always Aegon fucked things up for himself. His drinking had always been a problem and he’d ended up cheating on Y/N with her best friend no less.

Maybe he shouldn’t have propositioned her the way he did, as she was upset about Aegon, but he just couldn’t help himself.

As upset as she was Y/N clearly had a little vindictive streak in her as she readily agreed to go to bed with him.

He was going to make good on his promise and fuck her so hard that forgot Aegon’s name.

All his Christmases had clearly come at once as the feeling of Y/N’s lips on his was better than anything he’d ever imagined, the noises she made when he devoured her pussy like a starving man would linger with him for the rest of his days.

He loved eating pussy, something his previous partners were ever grateful for, but nothing compared to Y/N’s she was delicious in a way he’d never tasted before.

Even the feel of her tight, wet heat wrapped around his cock was everything he’d ever dreamt of, he never wanted to be anywhere else, and, in all honesty, he had never come so hard in his life, rope and after rope of his seed, coated her insides and the sight of it dripping from her drove him feral with need.

Even after she had left his flat, her lavender scent still lingered on his sheets, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

So, after he finished work the next day he went to her flat and threw her legs over his shoulders and devoured her sweet pussy until she was screaming his name.

After that it became a regular thing between them, she still hadn’t officially ended her relationship with his brother, but it didn’t matter. It was more fun this way.

They would usually met up at her flat, she lived alone, so it was easier to fuck her over every available surface and not worry about anyone walking in on them.

He would on occasion bring her back to his flat, careful of course to avoid Aegon, the idiot hadn’t realised that she’d caught him with Sara, and he would often complain that Y/N wasn’t responding to his calls or texts.

It gave Aemond a sick twisted sense of satisfaction after his brother would sit there lamenting his lost relationship only for Aemond to invite Y/N over and fuck her in the next room.

Once he had her pressed against his door with his cock deep inside her as his brother was on the other side complaining that he was making too much noise.

He even fucked Y/N in Aegon’s bed once, his drunken wastrel of a brother had finally got off his arse and gone out and the opportunity was too good to pass up.

Initially Y/N had her reservations, but she soon caved in when he slowly fingered her and then bent her over the desk and fucked her raw.

It was filthy, it was depraved and Aemond was living for it.

He would sometimes take her out on dates, something his cunt of a brother never did, and he would delight in teasing her pussy with his fingers as they sat waiting for their food in whatever restaurant they were in.

Of course his little mouse would get her own back and once when they went to the cinema she leaned over him and slowly sucked his cock, teasing him with her tongue to the point of madness before she allowed him to come in her mouth.

One time he even dared to surprise her at work when she was on a break, and he took her against the wall of the smoking shelter.

He delighted in the noises she made as she came around his cock, and the way she would slid her fingers into his hair and pull as she rode out her high.

The thrill of getting caught was intoxicating and it only made Aemond want her more.

The day he realised that he was completely in love with her was when they were laid naked with one another, their sweaty limbs entwined as she leaned over and pressed a series of gentle kisses to the scarred side of his face.

She called him beautiful, and she made him feel special. No woman had ever spoke to him in such a manner, and it warmed his heart beyond all comprehension.

Y/N was the silver lining on the dark cloud he called his life and he never wanted to be without her.

Ever since she had took that test Y/N was on pins, she knew that she had to tell Aemond, he had a right to know, but she was scared of how he would react.

They hadn’t talked for any length of time about a possible relationship and now she was pregnant with his baby.

Of course, there was also Aegon to deal with and that in itself was enough to give her a headache, and she really didn’t want to deal with him in that moment.

What she needed to do was get her head around the fact that she was pregnant and then after she’d summoned the courage, she would need to tell Aemond.

She didn’t see Aemond for a week, as they were both busy at work, so that gave Y/N the time to think.

One night she found herself eating a tub of pringles with her had pressed against her still flat stomach and she smiled at the thought that a piece of her and Aemond was growing inside her.

She wondered who the baby would look like, would he or she have her features or would they take after Aemond, which in truth Y/N didn’t mind at all.

After all, Aemond was a gorgeous man, his sharp features and piercing blue eye were surely a gift from the gods and a blessing to pass onto their child-boy or girl.

Sure enough, the week was over and after changing her outfit three times, Y/N was walking to Aemond’s.

She placed in her earphones and turned up the volume as Elvis Presley – I can’t help falling in love with you came on.

Most people had sneered at her music choices, but there was just something serene about the way Elvis sang. She couldn’t help but listen to him especially when she felt anxious.

Obviously, the current song choice was a bit on the nose, but it couldn’t have been more appropriate in that moment, because she couldn’t help but fall in love with Aemond and she hoped he felt the same way.

Eventually, Y/N found herself outside Aemond’s flat and after turning off her music and stowing her headphones on her pocket she took a deep breath as she knocked on the door. After a few minutes the door opened and Aemond stood there in a loose fitted white t-shirt and those damn sweatpants that made his cock look-

“-Is everything ok?” asked Aemond as he motioned for her to come in.

“I-I need to tell you something” replied Y/N as she sat on the sofa.

“What’s wrong?” mused Aemond as he sat in the armchair across from her.

“I’m pregnant” said Y/N.

“Huh” muttered Aemond, his mouth hanging open.

“I’m pregnant-and you’re the father”.

Aemond went rigid in his seat and stared unblinking at Y.N. He didn’t move as he mulled over what Y.N had just told him.

“A-Aemond-are you ok? Do you need some water?” asked Y/N concerned.

“N-No I’m good” replied Aemond clearing his throat.

“I would say it’s a bit of a shock, but we weren’t exactly diligent with the condoms”.

Aemond nodded his head in agreement, he could probably count on one hand the amount of times they did actually use protection. Most of their encounters usually ended up with him fucking her raw. Seeing her sweet cunt filled to the brim with his seed drove him feral, even thinking about it now he could feel his cock stirring.

“What do you plan to do?” asked Aemond.

“I’ve thought about it, and I know were young, but I want to keep the baby, you can be involved as much as you like-or if you don’t I understand” muttered Y/N.

“Of course, I want to be involved, yes I agree that were young, but I won’t turn my back on my child, I will be there for you every step of the way” urged Aemond.

“Y-You will?” gasped Y/N her eyes filling with tears.

“Just try and stop me” said Aemond smiling.

“I know a baby is huge responsibility but-“ said Y.N.

“-Your pregnant”

Y/N shot up from the sofa as she spotted Aegon standing in the doorway.

“Yes” replied Y/N as she glanced at Aemond who had also risen from his seat.

“Are you keeping it?”

“Yes, I am” said Y/N frowning.

“I guess it is the reason why you’ve been ghosting me for the last few weeks?” mused Aegon.

“The baby isn’t an it, Aegon” groused Y/N.

“What else am I supposed to call it-you do realise that I’m not ready to be a father, besides you always insisted that I wear condom so how are you pregnant?” asked Aegon.

Y.N took a deep breath to steady her nerves, it was now or never.

“Aegon-your not the father” said Y/N firmly.

“If I’m not the father-you’ve been screwing around behind my back?” snarled Aegon.

“Like you can take the moral high ground, especially after I walked in on you fucking my so called best friend” quipped Y/N.

“Y-You saw that?” muttered Aegon,

“Yes, I did, so don’t you dare make me out to be the bad guy” snapped Y/N

“I-It was a mistake, a onetime thing, I was drunk-please Y/N” begged Aegon.

“Typical Aegon, there’s always an excuse, you never accept responsibility for any of the shit things you do and I’m sick of it”.

“Y/N” gasped Aegon.

“No, we’re done” replied Y/N shaking her head.

Aegon bowed his head for a moment, almost as he was ashamed but then he glared at her and bared his teeth like a wild animal.

“Who’s the father?” asked Aegon.

“Does it matter?” muttered Y/N.

“Yes, it does.  NOW FUCKING TELL ME” balled Aegon as he seized Y/N by the arms and began shaking her.

“Aegon, let her go” urged Aemond as he inserted himself between his brother and Y/N and pushed him away.

“No, she’s fucked around behind my back and got pregnant, I want to know who’s bastard she carries” retorted Aegon as he went for Y/N again only to be blocked by Aemond.

“I’m the father” admitted Aemond.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Aegon went ballistic.

“YOU” shouted Aegon.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“How long-HOW FUCKING LONG?”

“Since the night I saw you with Sara” admitted Y/N.

“Oh, so what, this was some type of revenge for me screwing your slag of a mate”.

“The first time was, but then-“

“-Then what?” demanded Aegon.

“I fell in love with him” whispered Y/N.

“Y-You love me?” asked Aemond, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Yes, I do” said Y/N smiling.

“I love you too” replied Aemond as he rested his forehead against Y/N’s.

“Wait a minute-All those times I heard you fucking someone in your room, it was her”.

“Yes” replied Aemond.

“Is this about Floris?” asked Aegon rounding on Aemond.

“You seriously think that I would stoop so low?”

“W-Who’s that?” asked Y/N.

“Oh, what’s this-don’t tell me she doesn’t know about your Baratheon bitch” snarked Aegon.

“Floris was my girlfriend, until I found her in bed with my brother”.

“You just can’t help yourself can you-sticking your cock where it doesn’t belong?” shrieked Y/N as she jabbed Aegon in the chest.

“She came onto me, obviously bored with his limp dick and mangled face” snarled Aegon as he reached into the cupboard and pulled out a half empty bottle of vodka.

“What did you just say?” questioned Aemond.

“I said-limp dick with a mangled face” snapped Aegon as he took a large swig of vodka.

“How can you be so cruel” exclaimed Y/N.

“It’s a gift” shrugged Aegon, once again raising the bottle to his lips.

“Say it again-go on, FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN” roared Aemond.

“Why-What you going to do you one eyed freak, you know Luke should have lowered his aim and slit your whiny cunt throat, done us all a favour” laughed Aegon.

“Aemond-NO” exclaimed Y/N as she was buffeted out of the way by Aemond who ripped the vodka bottle from Aegon’s hand and threw it across the room. The glass bottle exploded as it came into contact with the wall.

“You fucking frea-” shrieked Aegon reeling backwards as Aemond punched him in the face.

Aegon quickly rose from the ground and tackled his brother, both of them falling the floor with a heavy thud.

“You-fucking-cunt” breathed Aemond as one of Aegon’s punched connected with his nose.

“If anyone is the cunt here, its you” wheezed Aegon as Aemond managed to knee him in the stomach.

“Aemond-please, stop” urged Y/N desperately, however he couldn’t seem to hear her, too lost to his rage as he repeatedly punched every bit of Aegon he could reach.

Y/N reached forward and pulled on Aemond’s t-shirt, suddenly he reared backwards, and Y/N was propelled away from the fighting brothers, she slipped on the remnants of spilled vodka and collided with the floor, landing awkwardly on her stomach.

At the sound of Y/N hitting the floor, Aemond quickly came back to his senses, his eye widening at the sight of her laying haphazardly on her side with a hand on her stomach.

Aemond levered himself off Aegon and immediately went to Y/N, crouching slowly beside her.

“Y/N-are you ok?” asked Aemond nervously.

“T-The baby” whispered Y/N, her lip wobbling.

“Come on, I’ll take you to the hospital” muttered Aemond as he wrapped his arms around Y/N and gently lifted her off the floor.

“Aemond I-“

“-Just to be on the safe side” said Aemond as he grabbed his car keys and guided Y/N out of the flat, completely ignoring Aegon was hunched over by the wall, his nose dripping with blood.

All the way to the hospital Y/N didn’t speak, even as they waited for the doctor to examine her, she remained silent.

Aemond felt terrible, he’d only just learned that Y.N was pregnant, what if his fight with Aegon had cost him his child, it made his insides twist uncomfortably at the thought.

The doctor eventually arrived and checked Y/N vitals and then she was sent for an internal scan.

Aemond held Y/N’s hand as the scan was performed, and he found himself praying to whoever was listening that their baby would be ok.

Aemond hadn’t prayed since he was a child, not since he lost his eye and had to suffer through multiple surgical procedures to correct the damage that his nephew had done. The last procedure was for his prosthetic eye and even that was an experience he wasn’t keen to repeat, he could still remember the feeling of the cold malleable substance that was poured into his empty socket.

Y/N squeezed his hand as a single tear ran down her cheek, and Aemond’s heart was on the cusp of breaking when the doctor finally gave them the news that their baby was fine.

Aemond let out a breath of relief and he pressed a kiss to Y/N’s hand as the doctor pointed towards the screen and showed them the tiny flickering heartbeat.

With orders to get some rest and stayed hydrated, Aemond took Y/N back to her flat, the printed picture of their baby safely ensconced in his wallet.

Still Y.N barely spoke as he helped her into bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

He could feel his mobile vibrating in his pocket, no doubt Aegon had been on the phone to their mother and lied through his teeth, but that was a problem for later.

“Stay with me-please” whispered Y/N.

“Ok” replied Aemond as he placed his keys, wallet, and phone on the beside table and toed off his boots before slipping into bed.

“Hold me” pleaded Y/N, her voice so soft and delicate.

Aemond didn’t need asking twice, he wrapped his arm around Y.N and pulled her towards him, his nose buried in her hair.

“I love you Aemond-” whispered Y/N.

“-I love you too” replied Aemond.

“Do you need to get that?” asked Y/N as the sound of Aemond’s phone vibrating echoed around the room.

“It’s my mother-no doubt Aegon’s told her his version of what’s happened so she’s probably ringing to give me an earful”.

“I-If you don’t want to go back to your flat, you always stay here for a bit” suggested Y/N, her voice small but somewhat hopeful.

“I’ll stay for as long as you’ll have me” exclaimed Aemond.

“Forever” whispered Y.N as she closed her eyes.

“Forever” repeated Aemond as he tightened his hold on Y.N and smiled softly.

His hand drifted towards her stomach and Aemond couldn't help but smile.

Their child was currently inside her, and he couldn't wait to see her stomach swell.

It was his seed that had taken root and bloomed into life and soon everyone would see, and they would all know that she belonged to him.

Just as she was always supposed too.

[aphroditelovesu]

Yandere Greek Heroes - Profile

‘‘You are the cause of all this destruction, honey. Watch and smile.‘‘ - Greek Heroes.

❝⚡️— lady l: yes, I know, it took me a long time to do this and I sincerely apologize. I started doing this a while ago but I always had to take breaks on account of other matters and this yandere profile was forgotten. I hope you forgive me! I made the main Greek heroes and some extras, but not all of them are here because it would be too big. I will do the female part and, if anyone wants, I can do part two of the male Greek heroes with other characters. Good reading and sorry for any mistakes!!

❝tw: yandere themes in general, dub-con, possessive and obsessive behavior, manipulations, mentions of mental breakdown. If you feel uncomfortable with any of these themes, I recommend not reading.

❝⚡️word count: +2,5k

OBSESSIVE

Hercules, popularly known by his roman name but his greek name is Heracles and in some versions Alcides, is a bastard son of the god Zeus and the mortal Alcmene. He is best known for having completed the Twelve Labors.

"Me and you, my love, let's just hold each other today. No going out."

Hercules is an obsessive and possessive bastard, he is very paranoid and jealous. You are not allowed to leave his side.

You can say anything about Hercules, as long as it doesn't involve you. Beat him, call him names, curse him, but never, under any circumstances, drag your name into the fray.

There's nothing he wouldn't put up with for you. This man would do anything for his darling, he is not afraid or hesitant to kill, torture, disembowel anyone who gets in his way. On your way.

He became paranoid after killing his entire family in an act of insanity, so he's terrified of accidentally ending up killing you. If he thought about hurting you, Hercules would back away. Just the thought of you dying drives him crazy.

He's overprotective too, not letting you go out without him and when you do he scans every passer-by thoroughly, just to make sure they don't hurt you. You can never be too cautious.

Hercules is a suffocating and obsessive yandere, he will never be far from you. The demigod will always be watching you like a shadow.

There's no way you can run away from it. Just allow yourself to be loved obsessively by Hercules.

"I... I just love you so much, Y/N. I love you in ways you cannot imagine."

Kinks: breeding kink, dom.

Nicknames: my love, my Queen/King.

POSSESSIVE

Achilles is the son of the nereid Thetis and King Peleus. He is considered one of the greatest warriors of Ancient Greece and is known to have participated in the Trojan War.

"...why are you fighting with me, baby? That bastard deserved to be spanked! He dared to flirt with you and I'm the only one allowed to do that."

Achilles is one of the most possessive greek heroes of all. His jealousy, however, is often out of control and he almost ends up beating people he considers a threat to your love to death.

To say that Achilles is possessive is a huge understatement, because he is so much more than that. He cries out for your attention 24 hours a day, every day of the year. For this hero, having your attention and devotion directed only to him never hurts. He is revered by all as one of the greatest warriors of all time, he is used to attention and expects nothing less from you.

Achilles is a warrior, body and soul, so there isn't much kindness in him, but the hero goes out of his way to be good to you. He tries hard not to hurt or scare you, his big, callused hands will be nothing more than feathery, touching you gently as if he's too scared of losing you and hurting you.

He is known to be vindictive and that is true, Achilles will take revenge on anyone and anything if anything happened to you, what he did to Hector is nowhere near what he will do to anyone who dares to lift a finger at you.

Achilles however does have some qualities and one of them is his devotion towards you, he is completely loyal to you and only you, he will follow you wherever you go. He wants to take care of you and he will. This man will do anything for you, just ask.

''It's so sweet that you think you can run away from me, my princess/prince. I think that's adorable, you know? That hope you carry, but don't worry, I don't mean to ruin it. Not yet, at least.''

Kinks: dom, rough sex and role play (don't ask me why)

Nicknames: sweetie, Princess/Prince.

DELIRIOUS

Theseus was a great Athenian hero, best known for defeating the Minotaur. He was the son of Aegeus, king of Athens and Aethra.

"I love you so much, my love, and I can't wait for the day when I can hold you in my arms every day. You can't wait either, can you? But I promise the wait will be worth it."

Theseus is one of the greatest greek heroes of all time, his strength and history are well known. He is a delusional yandere, daydreaming about his darling every minute of his day.

You are on the hero's mind day and night, all the time, he couldn't stop thinking about you. He just wasn't able to do it, so he didn't try to fight it, but chose to feed his own obsession.

Theseus met you after it was he who saved you from being sacrificed to the Minotaur and from that day forward he found himself thinking of you constantly. Many times these thoughts wandered, questioning whether you were fine, even how it would be if you and he had children. All thoughts were focused on him and you, the two of you together like a true couple.

Theseus would spoil and love you, like you should be loved and spoiled, like the fucking goddess/god he's sure you are.

Theseus isn't usually very possessive, he knows how perfect he is, he's full of himself and he laughs at the thought of you flirting with another man or woman. He was enough for you and you for him, there's no way you can think of another man with him by your side. But that doesn't mean he doesn't get jealous, because he does, but not so easily and he's downright cocky when he's jealous, pettyly criticizing his rival.

He is loving and caring when he gets what he wants and he always gets what he wants. He really is in love with you, in a yandere and obsessive way, but he is and Theseus will do anything to see you smile.

Just be careful with your choices, because he won't let you go as his obsession and desire for you grows more and more.

''I love your smile, my baby, your perfect face becomes even more beautiful when you're smiling. Please keep smiling at me always.''

Kinks: dom, adoration (he adoring you).

Nicknames: Baby, Goddess/God.

CONTROLLER

Bellerophon was a Greek hero most worshiped in the cities of Lydia and Corinth. He was best known for riding Pegasus. Son of Poseidon and was adopted by Glaucus, king of Ephyra.

''I'm perfect and so are you. We're both made for each other, can't you see that? There is no one better than me for you and no one more perfect than you for me. We will stick together.''

He is best known for his arrogance, after comparing himself to the gods themselves and deciding to go live on Mount Olympus, which was the cause of his death. He is a controlling and obsessive yandere, going so far as to lock up his darling if he can do it.

Bellerophon is the very definition of arrogant and greedy, these are characteristics that describe them very well. He is greedy for his sweetheart and glory, he wants to be the most worshiped and he demands this worship from his sweetheart and he will get irritated if he doesn't get it.

He's not the possessive type and it's rare for him to get jealous. aiming that he knows he is the one for his darling and there is nothing to be afraid of. They were his as much as he is theirs. It is so and it will always be so.

Bellerophon is an extremely controlling yandere, if he could, he would even control your breathing. He wants to know everything about his darling, they shameful stories to they darkest secrets and desires, everything. He doesn't want you to hide anything from him and will not tolerate secrets as you are his and as such you must be transparent to her with your desires and thoughts.

Needless to say, he is suffocating because only the gods themselves know how much this man is always glued to your side. He is always with you, breathing down your neck and watching your every move like an eagle.

There's no escaping him, not when Bellerophon is always glued to your hip.

''You are mine, your every thought belongs to me, everything about you is mine. And I don't share.''

Kinks: rough sex and suffocating his darling.

Nicknames: Love, Darling.

DEVOTEE

Orpheus was a great musician and poet of Ancient Greece. He is best known for going to the Underworld to seek his beloved and failing in the process. He is the son of Calliope, a Greek muse, and the god Apollo.

"Not even the muses could inspire me to sing a song about you. There aren't enough words to sing about my love for you."

If there's one thing we can say about Orpheus it's how passionate and devoted he is to his beloved, his love for you has never wavered through all the years and never will. He loves you completely, soul, body and heart, he gives himself to you with his whole being.

Orpheus loves too much and that is his greatest downfall. There's nothing he wouldn't do for you, for the person he's obsessively in love with, and that could be dangerous.

He won't rest until he makes you happy, he loves to sing songs and read poems to you and they are all about how he feels about you.

Orpheus is a simple man, he just wants to live his life with you forever if he can. There aren't many mysteries to his obsession with you, just that he's willing to do anything for you and your love. He's not in favor of murder, but for you, he'd kill anyone.

"I love you more than I can put in poems and songs. Please never leave me, I couldn't imagine my life without you by my side."

Kinks: breeding kink (he would love to have kids with his darling).

Nicknames: Muse (ironic, I know), Princess/Prince, love.

OBSESSIVE

Adonis was considered one of the most handsome men in Greek Mythology. Son of the incestuous relationship of Cinyras and Myrrha, according to Ovid, but in Hesiod's version he is the son of Phoenix and Alphesiboea. He was the mortal lover of Aphrodite and, in some versions, of Persephone as well.

"I will never let you go even if I wanted to. We belong together forever."

Adonis is completely obsessed with you, he knows everything about you and he lives fantasizing about his life with his darling. You are everything to him, this man can no longer live without you. He just can't and doesn't want to.

His biggest dream is to marry his sweetheart and if he gets the chance he will. Adonis adores you deeply and no one knows why. Maybe it's because you're the one who isn't focused on his looks anymore or just because he fell in love with you at first sight, according to him.

He's very possessive of you and doesn't even try to hide it, it's not like he wants to either. You are his and everyone should know that, including you. If the love bites and suck marks on your body don't speak for themselves, Adonis will do so.

Because he is very obsessive, Adonis will never give up on you, not even in death. You belong together and that's forever and ever.

Don't worry though, he is very loving and clingy to you and will always be there for you. Whether for better or for worse, Adonis will never leave you alone.

"My love for you is greater than my beauty."

Kinks: adoration, daddykink/mommykink (don't ask me).

Nicknames: Love, Baby.

DELIRIOUS

Perseus is one of the most famous greek heroes. He is best known for having beheaded Medusa. Son of Zeus and the mortal princess Danae.

"I could never hurt you. I love you too much for that."

Perseus is the very definition of a delusional yandere, he dreams of his darling 24 hours a day, awake or asleep, you are always in the demigod's thoughts. And he doesn't even try to hide that he's thinking about you.

And why should he? He is very obsessive and insistent in his obsession with you, he doesn't intend to ever let you go. Perseus can't live without you anymore, not without his reason to live. Don't you understand that? You are everything to him, everything.

Perseus cannot live without you. He knows it, you know it, everyone knows it. If something were to happen to you he would go into a deep state of despair and rage.

You can't disappear... Unless you want a lot of people to suffer with your choices, because Perseus won't stop until he has you all to himself. He won't stop until he has all his fantasies fulfilled. And he will cut down anyone who dares to get in his way.

You are the reason for his entire existence and Perseus will never leave you. He will never stop dreaming and raving about you. Never.

Stay with him. Perseus will make sure you never lack for anything. He is so unconscious in his obsession with you that there is nothing he doesn't want more than your happiness. Beside him, of course.

"Our love is strong enough for your petty form of denial. You know you don't really mean it, my princess/prince. You love me and I love you. Always."

Kinks: worship kink, slight degradation and humiliation.

Nicknames: Princess/Prince, love.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Jason is a greek hero son of Aeson. He is best known for being on the ship of the Argonauts and having married Medea.

"The world is a very dangerous place, my love. I cannot and will not allow anything to hurt you. I promise you."

Jason has seen a lot of bad things and bad people, so he developed a very strong paranoia about your safety. He acts incandescently around his obsession. He is always very alert and constantly scanning the environment around you closely.

He just doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. Is this so wrong? Is it so wrong that he doesn't want anyone to look at you? Touch you? No, it's not. Jason knows it's not wrong, he's just doing all this because he loves you so, so much.

And it is his duty, as your only protector, to protect and love you with all his might. And he will do his duties, his duties with all the pleasure in the world. Jason would do anything for you.

He would die for you, he would kill for you. He exists for you, he longs for you. He wants you. All of you.

"You are very important to me. I will protect you with everything I have."

Kinks: degradation and slight breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Darling, Baby.

STALKER

Patroclus was the son of Menoetius. Best known for having acted in the Trojan War, where he was killed by Hector.

"I will follow you to Hades to never be separated from you."

Patroclus is a great stalker, he will literally follow you to Hades itself without any kind of hesitation. He also knows everything about you, absolutely everything. Your secrets will become his secrets. Your desires will become his desires.

Everything that belongs to him will belong to you. You and him. The two of you and it will always be like this.

He is a big soft yandere for you, but only for you. This man would never, under any circumstances, hurt you. He could never and never wants to hurt you, he cares for you more than anything, he loves you more than anything, how could he even dare to think about hurting you?

You are everything to him, absolutely everything. All that is his is also yours, all that you want will be yours. He's willing to do anything for you, no matter what the consequences, because at the end of the day, you're the only thing that really matters.

It's you who really has all the power over him, you're the only person Patroclus wants and is willing to commit atrocities to keep you by his side. Only you, you hold all the power and control and he's happy about that.

He loves you and that's what he tells himself when he goes to sleep, that everything he did is in the name of your love, nothing will have been in vain for you.

Patroclus would never hurt you, but be very careful with him, because he can misinterpret your words and this can lead to irreparable actions. It will all depend on you, in the end, and he will always be there for you.

‘‘Everything I've done... Everything I do is for you, my love, and it will always be for you.’‘

Kinks: worship, pet names and breeding kink.

Nicknames: Love, Honey, Sweet.

OVERPROTECTIVE

Hector was one of the main trojan warriors during the Trojan War. He was a prince of Troy, one of the children of King Priam and Queen Hecuba.

''I can't let you out, I can't and I won't risk your safety. It's all for your own good.''

Hector is an extremely overprotective yandere of his darling, he gets paranoid just seeing a scratch on your skin, breaking a nail or just sneezing. He goes crazy with worry when he sees something that shouldn't be there, that he knows shouldn't be there.

He will overreact if you get hurt, even if it's harmless. You are everything to him and he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you, ever. He will take care of you, he will always protect you.

Always.

You'll basically have a bodyguard, so Hector is always at your side, watching your surroundings carefully. Danger is always lurking and he will be damned if he lets any enemy try to harm him.

Anyone who tries to harm you will be dead immediately, but not before suffering a painful and well-deserved torture. No one can think of hurting you, let alone actually doing it. Hector will make sure anyone who threatens you is dealt with hard and fast, he will always have be your protector.

That man would die if anything happened to you, just the thought of it makes him sick with worry. You are everything to him and Hector will make sure you are loved and protected. He will do everything for you.

''Please let me take care of you. It's all I ask, all I need for peace is to have you safe..."

Kinks: breeding kink.

Nicknames: Y/A (your nickname), Love.

MANIPULATOR

Cadmus was a legendary phoenician founder of Boeotinan Thebes. During his time, he was one of Greece's greatest heroes and monster slayers. He was a phoenician prince, son of King Agenor and Queen Telephassa of Tyre.

''You are so blessed to have me, to have my love. Feel honored.''

Cadmus is a great manipulator, he knows very well how to use his... gifts to manipulate you, to control you. And that makes him happy, because you are his, wich means, you are his to manipulate.

He cares about you a lot, he loves you and that's why he wants to have complete control of you so he can keep you with him. Cadmus will never admit it but he's scared to death that you'll abandon him, that you'll leave him and if that happened he'd break, you're everything to this man and he won't let you leave his arms.

Everything he does is for you and will always be for you. For your sake. He has no qualms when it comes to you and will act violently if someone tries to steal you from him.

Cadmus loves you and that alone is enough for him. He doesn't quite understand his feelings but this desire, this obsession he has for you robs him of any good judgment he may have. Everything is you. From the moment he saw you, it's you and it will always be you.

He doesn't like to hurt and would rather make you suffer mentally than physically because it's safer to see you break down and have a mental breakdown than having you bleed out. Besides, he doesn't want to ruin your beautiful skin with scars.

Cadmus can be very dangerous and unstable when it comes to you, so be careful around him. His manipulations are dangerous but can keep you safe from his wrath.

''I'm doing all this because I love you and you know it.''

Kinks: degradation, dom.

Nicknames: Sweetie, Beautiful.

[livesincerely]

”Hi,” a voice says, much closer than he expects. Davey turns to find a woman at his elbow—pretty, with long, tawny hair and big brown eyes—and her smile is sweet and a little shy. “I’m Julia.”

”Uh, hi,” Davey replies, a little confused.

His first thought is that she needs help flagging down the bartender; Davey’s tall and the place is packed, so it’s a reasonable assumption.

Instead, she says, “I don’t usually do this, but, I thought, maybe— And, my friends said I should just be brave and go for it, so, uh, would you be interested in maybe going out sometime? With me?”

”Oh, uh,” Davey rubs a hand over the back of his neck, a little thrown. He scrambles for a good way to turn her down without being mean. “I’m actually not—“

”Dave, did you want any food or just the drink?” Tony asks, tugging at his shirt sleeve to get his attention.

Davey latches onto him like a lifeline.

”I’m here with my boyfriend, Tony,” he lies, throwing an arm around Tony’s shoulders and pulling him in close.

Tony, because he’s the absolute best and Davey’s new favorite person, doesn’t even miss a beat.

“Oh, hey,” he says, curling into Davey’s side. “Sorry, this one’s taken, but believe me, I understand the appeal.”

”Oh my god,” Julia says, looking mortified. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize—“

”No biggie,” Tony says easily. “It happens.”

He turns back to Davey, lifts up on his toes, and presses a chaste kiss to his lips. “Come on, babe,” he says, with a ridiculous eyebrow wriggle. “Help me carry our drinks.”

Julia excuses herself with another flustered apology—Davey almost feels bad, but mostly he’s relieved at how relatively painless the whole exchange was.

“I owe you one,” Davey murmurs to Tony as they escape, heading to their table.

Tony snorts. “Oh, trust me, I’m about to get it back, with interest, in sheer entertainment value.”

“What do you mean?” Davey asks.

“Judging by the look on his face, Jack definitely saw what just went down,” Tony says, oddly vindictive. “And he ate the last of my fucking Froot Loops yesterday, so he deserves what’s coming to him.”

“What’s coming to him?” Davey questions, a little too drunk to follow this new thread of the conversation.

“Don’t worry about it,” Tony says, patting his shoulder. “Here, sit.”

He pushes Davey into the open seat next to Jack—who's watching them with a strange expression, tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

That tension only grows more pronounced as Tony plops himself into Davey’s lap and makes himself nice and comfortable. Davey just wraps his arms around Tony’s waist, resigned to this becoming A Whole Thing.

”Everyone here owes me money,” Tony announces gleefully to the table at large. “He didn’t even make it five minutes.”

There’s a collective groan.

“Who was it this time?” Specs asks, digging into his pockets for his wallet.

”Girl at the bar,” Tony says, nodding in the right direction. “The one in the green dress.”

The whole group turns to look as one, not even trying to be discreet. Davey resists the urge to sigh.

“She actually seemed normal,” Tony continues, with audible disbelief. Davey wishes he could take offense but, unfortunately, it’s well-warranted. “Cute, too. I wouldn’t’ve chased her off if Dave hadn’t signaled.”

”And where did kissing him factor int’a the equation?” Jack asks, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans back in his chair.

“You kissed Davey?” Albert asks loudly, looking intrigued. He turns to Davey and continues, “You let him kiss you? Don’t’cha know where his mouth has been?”

“Fuck off, Albie, I’m fresh as a fucking daisy—“

“No one should be kissin’ Davey,” Jack insists with a scowl.

“Dave didn’t mind,” Tony says with a smirk. He’s clearly enjoying this way too much. “And anyway, we had’ta sell it.”

“Oh, I bet you fucking did,” Jack mutters under his breath.

“How come Racer gets to mack on Davey?” Albert complains, which tracks—tequila always makes him pouty. “It’s my birthday! If anyone gets to kiss Davey, it should be me.”

“Pretty sure that’s not how that works,” Romeo tells Albert as Jack sputters soundlessly.

“Sure, it does,” Al insists. “Hey, Dave, can I kiss you?”

“No one is kissing Davey!” Jack says. He kind of looks like he’s got a swarm of bees in his mouth, his cheeks flushed and puffed out, his jaw working furiously.

“Uh, not with that fuckin’ attitude,” Albert scoffs, extremely unimpressed. “How ‘bout it, Dave?”

Davey blinks. “Um…”

“No one else is kissing Davey,” Jack orders.

[igotanidea]

Taken: Dick Grayson x f!reader x Jason Todd (part 2)

part 1

***

No.

No. no. no. no.

This was not happening.

This must have been some kind of crazy dream and he was about to wake up from in a second and everything was going to be fine.

Yes.

Absolutely.

He was about to open his eyes in his own bed with Y/N by his side, sleeping softly on her belly with messy hair and slightly parted lips, looking all cute and innocent.  And she would be all warm, soft, happy, protected and 100% safe in his embrace.

And he would hug her close to his chest making sure it will stay like this forever, kiss her and never let her go, regardless of her best effort to wriggle out of his embrace and start the day.  She was always the responsible one…..

And she would smile at him with her pretty smile and look at him with her beautiful eyes giving him the loving gaze and…

“Dick?”

He raised his head abruptly, being thrown out of his reverie and forced to crash with reality. And the realization that this was all true and not a nightmare brought a few tears to his eyes.

It all came back.

Y/n.

His poor girl, his love, his light, his heart.

Neglected by him.

Broken and abandoned.

And the car accident that he heard happening through the phone.

And there was nothing  he could have possibly done about it, forced to listen to the crashes and that deadly silence on the other side, desperately calling her name, hoping for a word of answer or even a single breath of a prove she was ok.

Honestly at this point Dick wasn’t sure which of those circumstances were worst.

He was currently sitting on the chair in the hospital, outside of the OR, Y/N was currently operated in. And everything was too much. The bright light, the whiteness of the walls, the sounds and that overwhelming feeling that all of it was in fact his fault.

“No…” he whispered with pale, numb limbs.

Honestly, it was a miracle he was able to sit at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been here for what seemed like hours now, he would probably be pacing nervously back and forth.  

Right now he only felt like screaming at the world about the unfairness of everything.

“Dick….”

“What?!” he snapped standing up abruptly, running hands through his hair in the mix of panic, guilt and the sudden urge to punch something.

“Please calm down……”

He looks at Jason with fury in his eyes. How dare he? How dare he ask him to be calm when his girlfriend was fighting for her life in the operation room. How dare he be so calm sitting on the hospital chair?! How dare he after everything that happened?

Yeah, he knew.

Dick was always a good detective and the moment Jason fell to his knees after hearing Y/N’s car crash and started weeping Grayson connected the dots pretty quickly. At that moment it all made sense. Jason held much more than friendly feelings for Y/N. Much more.

 And that brought a hurricane of emotions.

How? When? Why?

And most importantly – did she feel the same for Jason? Was she going to leave him?

“CALM DOWN?!” Dick yelled taking a few steps towards his brother, standing inches from him and eyeing him with a murderous gaze, but not doing anything. “DO YOU EVEN HEAR YOURSELF?!”

 “you might want to step back…..” Jason hissed warningly

“Or what?” Dick narrowed his eyes

“Or you’ll be grateful you’re in a hospital.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m just saying…..” Jason smirked vindictively, almost baring his teeth.

“Well I think it would be better  if you just shut up after everything you did to her.”

“I did to her? You were the one to brush her off! She needs love! She deserves love!”

“Oh so now you love her?!”

“I do!”

“Well too bad, cause she’s mine!”

“Not for long though…..”

The chances of them beating the shit out of each other on the hospital corridor were skyrocketing by a second and who knew what might have happened if it wasn’t for the clueless doctor coming out of the operation room.

It took the MD a second to figure out what was happening and his gaze turned from confused to stern immediately. He’s had enough experience with crazy, strange, straight-out-of-shitty-romance -novels incidents happening in his hospital and was not in the mood to deal with another one.

“Sit.” He hissed and it was hilarious how two grown up men complied with his order without a single word.

“Is she……?” Dick started, watching the doctor with wide eyes, begging for as little as a scrap of information.

“Can I…..?” Jason muttered at the same moment and when they spoke in unison their murderous gazes met again.

 “Are you family?” the doctor asked and boys’ faces fell instantly.

“I’m her boyfriend ……” Dick stuttered and that word made Jason clench both his jaw and his fists.

 “Not a family.” Doctor replied sternly

“But…..”

“No.”

“please?” Dick knew well enough he was making a fool out of himself in front of his younger brother (who apparently also happened to be his opponent for Y/N’s heart), but he couldn’t care less. He hadto know if she was alright. He just had to. And if it required stooping to begging he was going to do it. Anything for her.

“She’ll live…..” the doctor rolled his eyes in a bit of annoyance.

“Can you…..?” Dick tried to ask something more, but he didn’t even get to finish the sentence when Jason jumped to his feet, towering over the doctor backing him against the wall, grabbing the front of his lab coat.

“TALK!” Jason yelled. Just like Dick he was desperate to know anything about Y/N’s current state but unlike his brother he was not going to ask nicely. Yelling, punching and threatening was way more his modus operandi.

“Jason!”

“Fuck off Grayson! I care about her!”

“Are you suggesting that I don’t!?”

“You’re just going to take this doctor’s shit?!”

“Both of you calm down now.”

The calm deep voice coming from behind made everyone turn their heads towards the direction of the door.

“Mr. Wayne!”

“Bruce?!”

“Let the gentleman go, Jason.”

“I’m not taking orders from you.” Jason scoffed not letting go.

“From what I can tell I’m the only one entitled to Y/N’s medical information so I suppose you do take orders from me.”

“You’re fucking bluffing” Jason’s eyes narrowed, the vein on his forehead pulsing as he weighted the options. Not knowing about Y/N or surrendering to Bruce.

“Try me.” Bruce retorted, his face resembling an expressionless stone.

“Fuck!” Todd cried out, dropping the doctor to the ground, not caring about delicacy.

Bruce smirked.

“Now. Shall we doctor?”

And acting like he owned the place (which was not that far from the truth) Wayne started walking towards the office.

“Bruce…..” Dick whispers desperately, with a broken voice and equally broken expression.

“Don’t worry Dick. Everything’s going to be fine.” Bruce patted his shoulder reassuringly.

***

It took Bruce ten minutes to gather all the necessary information and enable Dick to get inside Y/N’s hospital room.

Obviously Jason was about to fight tooth and nail to get the same privilege as his brother but no one cared.

Why was he always the bad one…..?

He loved her too…… He deserved to be able to see her…..

Anything…… just to hear her breathing and see she was alive…  anything to be close to her……

Instead he heard hard no.

Which was heartbreaking.

Soul shattering.

Simply unfair and punishing.

Making him feel like an outcast. Again. Over and over and over again.

Like he was just a piece of shit.

Of course he could have fought, but what was the point? It would end up with him being injected with a sedative and kicked out.

And just a thought of being tortured…again…… made him retreat into himself.

But it hurt like hell.

Only because he fell in love.

And he felt like crying at the simple thought it was Dick sitting beside her bed, holding her hand, brushing her hair and kissing her forehead.

Would she even want that?

He could remember how soft and sweet she was when he was the one kissing her. The way she touched him, hugged him….. how she melted into him… Not Dick… him.

Her lips, hands, skin, curves, her body and her taste.

So perfect…..

And then she run….

And he was hurt…. scared for her, for himself, for them….

Was there ever them…..?

Jason was conflicted, shuddering and not knowing if he ever stood any chance to be with her.

Could it be possible that she wanted him the same way he wanted her……?

Please…..

Please…..

Please….

***

Meanwhile Dick was indeed sitting next to Y/N’s bed, rubbing her soft, pale, limb hand whispering soft words that made no sense but helped him keep himself together.

He almost expected Y/N to look pale, small and fragile in the hospital bed, surrounded by all that medical equipment and encompassing white. He didn’t have much experience with hospital, since all his life he’s been home-patched, but all the stories he heard always portrayed the casualty of the accident in such way.

But not Y/N.

She was as beautiful as always and even all the bandages and tubes and fuzzy colours of the surroundings could never change it. She was strong… she was a fighter…. She survived and now she was just resting after all that.  

His pretty, brave girl.

His Y/N, who was going to open her shining e/c eyes soon and see him as the first person.

“I’m here baby….” he whispered, putting  a strand of hair behind her ear “Not going anywhere. Ever. Please come back to me…. I need you…. I love you, baby…”

He brushed her cheek softly. He probably shouldn’t have, but at this point all his reason and logical thinking was out the window replaced by the sheer need to feel her soft skin.  Honestly he didn’t care about any rules as long as it didn’t mean he was putting her life or health in danger.

They say people in coma can hear when you talk to them, when you call upon them, touch them.

Well, she was not in come, but regardless he wanted.. no, he needed her to feel he was here. She was safe now, he was going to make sure of it.

“I’m so sorry my love….” Dick whispered, rubbing her hand gently. She was so warm and soft and it brought him hope. He was given a second chance to care for her. To keep her safe and protected and he was not going to waste it. “I’m so sorry for everything… I promise I’ll be better. Just please… open your eyes…..”

Sure, life doesn’t work magically and he wasn’t really expecting his words to bring the effect, but miraculously Y/N stirred in the bed and he could feel her fingers squeezing his hand.

“Y/N? Baby? It’s me… It’s Dick…. Honey, can you hear you hear me?” he asked, putting enormous amount of energy to keep his voice calm and not scare her or to take her in his arms and hold to his chest.

That would be unwise, she still had to recover and get back to health

“Dick……?” she asks faintly, opening her eyes slowly.

Oh, screw that.

Without any thinking he wrapped his arms around the girl, rubbing her back, kissing the top of his head, letting the tears fall down, rocking back and forth with her bruised body so close to his.

“Y/N…..” he muttered repeatedly as if that word were the sweetest one in the whole wide world. “Y/N… Y/N…. Y/N…..”

“Hey…..” she smiled softly, getting lost in his embrace.

“I thought I Iost you, baby…..” he held her a bit tighter making her grunt a little. “sorry my love.” He pulled back slightly looking straight into those beautiful eyes, showing a bit of tiredness and weariness. What he saw, however, was the shining orbs, the view he would be happy to watch solely for the rest of his life is she only let him. “Y/N….” he pressed his forehead onto his, cupping her cheek and chuckling a bit nervously a bit hysterically. “You’re all good, baby…..” he couldn’t help his wandering hands that seemed to cup her cheeks almost out of their own volition.

“Dickie….”

He almost whimpered at the word. She was the only one to use the diminutive form of his nickname and the only one allowed to do so. And he could have never heard that coming out of her sweet mouth.

“I love you….” he blurted. “I love you… Oh, I love you…..”

“I love you too, Dickie boy….”  

“Do you remember what happened?” he kissed her forehead “How do you feel? Is there anything I can get you?” Dick’s natural chattiness branched off into the series of question that she didn’t even have the chance to answer because of the speed.

Dick Grayson was babbling.

Because she came back to him. And only then he realised how stressed he was.

“Dickie…. I….”

“Shh…” he kissed her temple, holding her to his chest again “don’t worry about anything my love. We’ll get you discharged from this hospital immediately. I’ll take care of you. I swear. Not letting you out of my sight. I love you so much……”

“Oh, Dick….” She cooed touching his cheek and wiping those traitorous tears. “I;m so sorry….”

“Sorry?” he frowned a bit confused “for what? Listen to me, baby…” he softly put a hand under her chin making her look up at him. “None of this was your fault. You hear me? Nothing.”

“But … but Dick…. Dick I…… I did something….”

“I know.” Dick simply said, putting a finger on her lips and brushing her hair. “I know, you don’t have to say a thing….”

“No….no you don’t know…. I…. I kissed Jason and….”

“I know.”

“You…. Do?” she looked at him with shock written on her face.

“Yeah, baby, I do…..” he smiled “I’m not mad, I swear….”

“Is he here now?”

“He’s sitting outside.”

Outside.

Jason was sitting outside.

That thought made her heart drop a little.

Partially because he was here at all serving as a reminder of her mistake.

But the bigger part of her heart dropped because she wasn’t even sure if that was a mistake anymore. Maybe it was what she truly wanted.

Poor Y/N was so confused remembering everything that happened before her accident.

Jason’s lips on hers.

His calloused hands moving across her body.

His scars under her fingertips.

“Dick…..” she stutters

“Yes babygirl?”

“Please hold me……”

“Of course, anything for you….” He smiled moving to sit on her hospital bed, hugging her.

In any other circumstances it would be a sweet, loving scene.

But right there, right then… they were both terrified.

Unsure of what was coming for them.

Unsure of their own feelings.

......

@fullbelieverheart

[undermine-the-instinct]

Stop looking at me with those eyes!! JJK Pt l | Pt ll | Pt lll

Characters: Sukuna, Mahito, Kenjaku, Choso.

Warnings: YANDERE. Minors DNI. Due to the nature of said characters I will classify this as yandere/ darkfic. Soft(?) Gore mentions.

(A.N:I don't know what you did to get these men's attention, but good fucking luck, lol)

Love is what they this, this lesser thing beings pursue for some semblance of worth, importance. A liability, and a weakness that {Sukuna} doesn't have. But he supposes that is love by human standards. Curses fare no better. He will not debate whether curses can love or not, he does not exist to either, and he will hold himself to no standards but his own.

You are soft and sweet in his arms, and he enjoys that. Your sounds please him, whether in pleasure or pain. He savors the taste of your blood on his tongue. He wants to rip you to shreds, but he holds himself back. It will be too troublesome to find someone good enough to replace you.

So he supposes that he loves you, in his own way. The only way that matters.

He admits that he greatly enjoys the way you look at him. Your eyes shine, and while mortal means of wealth never enticed him, these are the only jewels he wants to hold in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes."

You're held up against his side, cradled in one pair of arms, bloody and tired and limp. He is not quite sated after his latest binge, and so he holds you; the remains are scattered around you both, twitching and shivering in the open air. Much like you are, you have to stop that–Predator instincts demand he sinks his teeth into you. Your flesh is a delicacy that he knows well.

But your sweet eyes– so wide and tinged with horror, are alive and bright, like lanterns cutting through the dark mist of night. So pretty. What would he do without them?

"Stop looking at me like that pet, or I'll pluck your eyes out again, like the pretty jewels they are." They were soft and veiny in his mouth, popping like gushers. Reverse cursed technique keeps you in one piece.

As if to taunt him, your eyes gleam brighter with your tears, and his hands twitch around you.

He must always catch himself. Sometimes he doesn't. He wants to keep going, keep going further and further till you're nothing more than viscera, blood in his mouth. Until the pain turns you into a curse, held above them all, just like he is. It would be better for you. It would be better for him.

But, no, not yet. He enjoys your human softness. He deserves it.

"Oh dearest." Your tears fall out unbidden, and he sighs, brings you up to his face, and licks the tracks they run down your face. Sweet, just like the rest of you.

You will stay here forevermore. You will never belong to anyone else, much less yourself.

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Mahito} is a creature born from every nasty thing humanity has ever felt or thought or done. A maelstrom, a calamity. Not a catastrophy. He is still happening after all.

Love is twisted for him, it's a thing of malcontent for him. In fact, it's one of the main things that made him up. A lover's anger at a cheating partner, vicious joy at their pain, the satisfaction of a lover's vengeance. The soft vindictiveness that comes after, when you pick up the pieces and put them back together again. It twists and quivers up in the light, and Mahito offers it all to you with a smile and horrid gleam in his dual colored eyes.

"Stop….stop looking at me with those eyes." You can barely whisper. There is a weight in your chest. Mahito quirks his head, a mockery of innocence, and doesn't even pout to make light of the situation, like he usually does.

Maybe its because he's never gone this far before. His pupils are blown out, leaving hardly any color, and they don't leave you. It scares you. He is smiling, he has been smiling this entire time, and you hate that smile. It has never been a good thing.

"Do I scare you?"

You keep quiet. Because you can't think, and you know better to blurt out the first thing in your head.

Yes, yes, you do. You know you do. And I know you like that.

"Your soul is finally trembling back into place." He hums, trailing his hands along your prone form, and you can't help the little whimper that slips past your clenched teeth. You can't handle it again. But Mahito grins, and squeezes, hard. Like a child with a fresh new toy. You're sure he's leaving bruises. The kindest touch he's given you so far.

"I worried for a moment that I'd have to mish-mash you back together, but you're fine. We're fine."

You are not fine. You are absolutely not fine.

"I tried to be gentle, like you asked me to. I tried to be considerate. But, just, look at you." The shaky exhale of his breath sends your heart racing, and your hands rush over to clamp over his wrists. He lets you.

Your skin is broken and bruised and bleeding. Your head is fuzzy, but panic keeps you alert. Your heart lugs in your chest, heavy and thumping and you feel the blood pound in your ears, it makes you want to tear yourself out open in order to stop the sick rhythm. You are sore, and you can't tell what exactly is broken, or bent out of place, but you're not dead, not this time.

You don't know how many next times you have.

Mahito softly shakes his head, looks down at all your broken and bloody bits. A breathless smile spreads across his face, while his brows furrow in question.

"How am I ever going to replace you?"

You whimper.

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Kenjaku} has means of helping you 'reincarnate'. He says helping, but really, you don't have a choice in the matter.

He has done this dozens of times, every time he obtains a new body. You are always the first thing he attends to after, your resurrection is priority. He wants your opinion, he says, and your attention, he doesn't. Your love. You're the only one worthy, and interesting, enough of standing by his side. You will remain there.

He smiles at you in this new meat suit, long black hair and smooth skin, a monks ensemble. He sits cross-legged, chin in hand.

"Stop looking at me with those eyes dearest."

"Or what? You'll pluck them out again?" You join him at the low table, if only to glare at him closer. He smiles, almost blissful.

"Not this time, I think this form suits you more than the last. I'd hate to blind you once more."

"I'll kill you one day, Kenjaku." He nods, mockingly.

"They say love is the greatest curse."

"You don't love me." You don't hiss, you don't growl or grit the words out through clenched teeth. Your hatred and malice is a dark, cold thing, settled in the pits of your belly like sediment at the bottom of the deepest ocean. It slips from your lips like the oldest poison.

"We've done this song and dance for centuries. Your morbid curiosity and lust for power is what keeps me here. I'm a pet."

"No love," he reaches over and boops your nose. He has gotten more playful in this body, and it makes you see red. It makes you afraid.

"You're an experiment."

"Like your cursed wombs?"

"No, something more personal." You roll your eyes, and move to serve your own tea. Fuck him.

"And what experiment am I an unwilling participant in, hm? How long it takes to break me?"

"How long it takes for you to love me," he corrects. The lines of the body's scar are shiny pink in the light. You want to tear it bloody.

"Which is one and the same, I suppose."

♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡ • ♡

{Choso} exists for his brothers, and that is all. That is all he wants and all he feels he was truly made for, and there is no room for anything else.

Anyone else.

Much less you.

"Stop looking at me with…those eyes." He doesn't understand adoration, only duty, and he is unused to the soft rapture in your eyes. It is wasted on a being like him, anyways.

"What eyes?" You droll out, still clearly lost wherever your mind went. He tries not to think where.

"You know what eyes you're making. Stop it." He hates how the softness leaves you, brow tugging down.

"Oh, sorry. I don't want to make you uncomfortable with all the, um, staring."

"It's not the staring. It's the reason behind it. Your feelings are wasted on me. Place them elsewhere." You don't flinch but your shoulders hunch, and he does not take back his words. They are true and they need to be said. Your feelings are wasted on him.

He just wishes he didn't return them.

"...I can't help the fact that I love you."

"You don't." You can't. You can't.

"Even if you did, it doesn't matter."

"Don't say that. Of course it matters."

"If love ever mattered my brothers and I wouldn't exist. You would understand the situation, and what this means for all of us. Your love is shallow, because you only see that which is in front of you." He sighs, and does not meet your gaze. He doesn't know what you see.

"There is no future for us." And no future that he can secure you.

His…father created him and his brothers on a vicious whim. He will not let you be dragged into that same cruelty.

There's no need to weep. He lets you leave to compose yourself, and doesn't let you take his heart with you.

A half curse, half human thing such as he– half wretched and half tainted blood, all sharp edges and harsh things.

He was not made for love. He was not made for soft things. He was born for tragedy and he will end that way too, and he will comply with his duties as an older brother.

He can not offer you soft things. Even if he dreams of your smiles.

So, please. Stop…looking at him with those eyes.

[romanoffsbish]

If You Want to Be My Lova

Yelena Belova x PlusSize!FemReader

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

A/N: Though I identify R as plus size, I didn’t give her much description to leave it open to a broader range of readers who struggle with loving their bodies. (Pssst, you’re beautiful—I just know it’s true 🥺) | 3,912 Words

Warnings: Steve’s a fat shaming asshole, Body Image Insecurity. Alluded to/never specified eating disorder.

A/N 2.0: I personally detest Steve, but to be clear I don’t genuinely think he’d be like this, I just needed an antagonist.

Request

Steve watched from across the counter as you wandered into the kitchen, your water in one hand and your phone in the other as you perused the kitchen in search of breakfast. He'd seen the exact moment your eyes lit up when you saw the pink boxes on the counter.

An unnecessary wave of glee ran through him as he prepared to open his mouth and speak, "Are you sure you want to eat that Y/N? If you're serious about losing weight why not look into eating some rolled oats with berries?"

He was being vindictive, you'd grown used to it after you worked your magic and got Natasha to finally ask out Wanda, he's been visibly bitter over the situation ever since. The talking point of your weight was easy enough for him to cling to, he was in peak fitness, and it would only come off as a concerned friend trying to help you reach a "better" state of wellness.

What he failed to consider was Wanda was on her way into the kitchen as well, and she was able to see the exact moment your spirit broke. The light in your eyes faded fast, and the donut in your hand was gently set back into the box, she saw the way your lip wobbled, and your eyes filled with not only tears, but dread too.

——

It enraged her honestly, you were the sweetest person around these parts, and deserved to be treated with nothing less than love and respect.

Steve saw it too, the way you bit your lip and closed your eye's tight to try and reel your feelings in. Crying over it changes nothing...

He went to lift his mug of coffee to his lips as if he was accomplishing something amazing, his smile smug as ever when you turned away, but it fell fast when the steaming contents of his mug were sloshing over the edge of the glass in a way that could only be explained with magic.

He hissed as the drink scalded him through his thick cotton shirt, his chest on fire now, and in a dramatic manner he removed the stained shirt to reveal his toned abs, and ripped arms.

"Wanda, what the fuck was that for?" He called her out immediately, and so she entered the kitchen with a victorious smile, and red tinged fingertips. "Whatever do you mean Rogers?"

"I know what you did."

"Yeah, and I too know what you did," she glares menacingly in his direction while also setting a reassuring hand onto your shoulder, "I'd say the punishment fits the crime."

Steve glared right back, and you finally turned to see what must've occurred to cause this rift, you felt guilt gnawing at your gut, it wasn't a fair feeling, but yet you could feel it festering.

Wanda's fingers continued to spark in shades of a dangerous crimson as the burned man wasn't appearing to be backing down, and you didn't want to involve her any further. It felt sorta unfair for her to fight your battles for you. On account of her being your girlfriends future sister in law, and also because this entire moment was beyond mortifying for you.

To have your insecurities viciously thrown in your face in a public space like this, well it was rather juvenile, and so it made you feel like you were that same kid crying under the bleachers all those years ago when kids were being cruel.

The people pleaser in you won out alongside the embarrassed little one who still resided in your heart, so you took in a shaky breath before trying to calm the witch, "It's okay Wands."

You'd gently settled a hand over hers that still held tightly to your shoulder for comfort, the witch looked back at you, the sad smile you offered didn't calm her though, it only fueled her on. "It's not, especially not when he himself is only a byproduct of a steroidal experiment."

Steve's stance faltered ever so slightly, his ego now efficiently bruised. His mouth spluttered embarrassingly for a moment before he left the kitchen altogether in a grumbling huff.

"Tata Captain Hot Head," she flipped the man off, then turned back to you as you giggled.

"Hey dorogoy," you looked at her inquisitively, and she offered you one of the warmest smiles you'd ever seen, "Can you do me a favor?"

"Of course, whatever you need Wands," she beamed, "I'm glad to hear you say that, can you get two plates for us? I'll take a maple bar, and you can pick that sprinkled one back up while I make us a fruit salad and some hot cocoa."

Wanda watched closely, there was a hesitation in your demeanor, as if you were now scared. You however nodded meekly, then began to shuffle around the space to do as she asked.

"Ooh, did I see donut holes too?"

"Yup," you confirmed, and then you watched from your place at the counter as six tiny balls of dough and sugar danced through the air until they landed evenly between your plates.

The two of you spoke about your weekly movie night tonight while picking at the food before you, you smiled when the witch said you got to pick, you settled on Hocus Pocus, and Wanda smiled when she saw your plate was empty.

Then Wanda watched your face fall as she described in detail how she'd prepared a couple of snack trays for the both of your girlfriends with the ravenous appetites. This was a normal conversation, but now that Steve threw you into this self deprecating headspace she could see you debating if you wanted to go anymore.

The pressure to eat another meal today was already crippling your soul, it felt wrong to even consider nourishing yourself after the way Steve haphazardly regarded your body. Seeing how fit he was didn't help either, it only made you feel like you truly didn't deserve to eat.

"Well, I have some errands to run Wands, but I'll see you tonight," you collected both of your plates, and left her behind with a side hug as you departed, but your thoughts were so loud all the witch was left to do was frown as she made her way to the gym to try and fix this.

—

Natasha slammed Yelena into the mat for what was like the tenth time in an hour, "Cyka."

"Just admit that I'm better, and we'll be done."

"Never, I am just distracted," Yelena groaned, "Something in my gut is deeply unpleasant."

"Yeah, you simply can't stomach losing," Nat laughed as she once again dodged her sisters fist with grace, but then she was groaning when Yelena's fist hit her in the gut, she was too distracted by the sight of her fast approaching angered lover to have stopped the attack.

"Ha! I win!" Yelena screeched, only to be met with a shove that knocked her on her ass, and to wind up on the receiving end of Natasha's incredulous expression, "One hit isn't a win!"

"Listen here cyka," Yelena angrily muttered while stepping up to her sister, "Listening," Natasha smirked and Yelena reared back.

"Enough! Both of you!" Wanda caught Yelena's fist with red wisps, "Save your anger for Steve."

The sisters looked to her within an instant, both wearing different degrees of confusion.

"What did he do now?" Natasha groaned, she was growing really tired of his petty antics.

"He made Y/N self conscious, she's not okay."

Yelena's entire body tensed, Wanda could feel her fighting against her magic, and as if the God's heard her prayer Steve entered the gym.

"Let me go," she lowly growled, and Wanda did so without a single concern for the man, she was actually thrilled for what was to come.

Steve was unknowingly preparing for a beating coming down here, he'd come here to fight away the thoughts of inadequacy Wanda placed in his mind with the punching bag, but instead he was on his knees clutching his manly hood.

"What the actual fuck?" he seethed, but when he met the fiery gaze of one Yelena Belova he knew not to even test the waters any further.

"YA vypotroshu tebya, kak rybu," she rasped through gritted teeth, her hand fisted in the mans hair, as she punched him square in the nose, then as she went to further beat him she felt Natasha's hands on her shoulder's pulling her back, "Idi k yeye sestre, ty yey nuzhen, my s nim spravimsya." Yelena looked to her with a scowl, but after a moment of reassuring eye contact she conceded, "Zastav' yego zaplatit'."

(I will gut you like a fish / Go to her sister, she needs you, we'll handle him. / Make him pay)

"You know Rogers, Y/N only ever gave me the confidence to ask Wanda out, it was always going to be her, and never going to be you," she pulled Wanda in by her waist for a bruising kiss to ensure he understood her honest words.

He pouted like a petulant child, Yelena's firm hold was replaced with Wanda's impenetrable magic, so he was forced to watch them kissing.

Natasha lowered her body until she was level with the pitiful man, she patted his cheek twice patronizingly then she spoke only to ruin him, "Because sure Rogers, you might have the fawned over physique, but that's really only superficial, at the end of the day you're nothing worth experiencing," she beamed as his eyes filled shallowly with tears, "Y/N is a light in this dark world Steve, and for you to treat her like she's less than because you feel you lost me because of her is so strange. It's also not true."

"Everyone knows you have the personality of a brick wall, and it's just not that appealing. At least Sam and Bucky are interesting enough," Wanda taunted the scowling man, "There's a reason you could only ever score a date with the niece of your almost lover," she gripped him by his chin, and stared coldly into his eyes, "You're a pathetic excuse for a man Steve."

"That's all there is to it," Nat concluded, then with a precise swing of her fist he was out cold.

Wanda knelt beside him, and Natasha watched as red wisps jolted through his temple, "Sweet nightmares, I hope you wake up devastated."

"God, I love you so much," Natasha groans as she pulls her lover in for a deep kiss, "Y/N's family Nat, and nobody fucks with my family."

"That she is, I just hope Yelena can fix this," Natasha frowns slightly, and Wanda meets her concerned expression with an equivalent sigh, "If anyone can, it's her." Wanda softly grabs her lovers hand, "But we can also do our part."

—

Yelena raced through the entire compound in search of you, in her frazzled state she had neglected the obvious solution of just asking Friday, but after stumbling onto the vacant floor of the compound she knew she found you.

Soft sobs came from the room that used to be yours before you moved into Yelena's room. Back when you were Tony's assistant who he deemed worthy of a room, and not yet her everything, because that's exactly what you are.

"Y/N?" She called out softly as to not scare you, "Moye solnyshko," she whispered the words as she entered your old room, her heart stuttered when she saw the broken glass of your mirror, and it nearly shattered when she saw some of your things had been brought down here.

"Y/N, detka, what's going on?" She reached out for you, but you pulled your hands away, she frowned upon seeing the cuts that littered your skin and the air of despondency in your glossy orbs, it had made her imagine Steve's body dangling over a tub of carnivorous crocodiles.

It's now on her to do list...

"Lena, you should just go," you whispered brokenly, voice cracking as well as both of your hearts as you verbalized the words you didn't mean, "I'll never be what you deserve, so go."

"So that's just it? I don't get a say in this?"

"You're so beautiful Yelena, you deserve a partner that matches or excels you, which would honestly be impossible, you're perfect."

"You do excel me Y/N," she whimpers, and this time when she goes to reach you she does so by straddling your body, and making sure you can see just how true her words are. "I've never had anything to call my own Y/N, but now I have you, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

"But what if there's someone better along the way Yelena? It's easier if we break this off now, I couldn't cope if you left me in the future."

"Never," she promised, her lips deposited a peck to your tear stained lips, "There is nothing better for me than you detka, I've never been happier," she smiled warmly as she stared into your cloudy eyes, hers just as glossy as yours, "That's all because of you. Moya solnyshko—my sunshine; oh how you brighten my life."

Yelena watched the storms behind your eyes begin to settle, your once tense body melted into the mattress, and she took the moment as the perfect time to kiss you, to pour out just how much you meant to her into the gesture.

"Look at me Y/N," she remained soft as she sat you up, and pulled you into her lap without a moment of hesitation, her tone however held a seriousness to it, "You deserve to feel safe in your body, to be able to love yourself despite any societal norms that are like ugly lies."

"I try to love me Lena, b-but when people that look like Steve say what they do I can't help but worry that I'm not meant for your love, maybe I'm holding you back, or you're settling here."

"First of all, you are meant for me only," she held you far more tightly, a possessiveness falling over her at the thought of you being with someone else. "You move me forward detka, my life has only looked up with you at my side. Life is a box of chocolates with you."

A sweet giggle left you as Yelena paraphrased last week's movie to make her point.

"I'm not settling Y/N, if anything it's you who's settling," you instantly shook your head with a pout, and she smiled at you sadly, "I've done a lot of things wrong in this short lifetime Y/N."

"You didn't have a choice Lena," you growled, and she chuckled lightly, "I know, but I finally do, and you're the only thing I've done right."

A brief moment of silence fell over you both, Yelena's grip on you was firm, and loving, her lips pressed to your forehead, and when you quietly sniffled she figured you needed more.

"Fuck that dipshit in spandex," she grinned when you giggled softly, and her looming fears melted away when you rested your head over her heart, "He'll never know what it's like to be loved truly, because he doesn't understand that people don't care for that manufactured body of his when it's paired with a heart of stone."

"You though. You're not only beautiful to look at," she leaned back, giving you the once over for emphasis, but she truly did get distracted as she took you in, with her lip caught in between her teeth and a smile in her eyes she couldn't fake, "You've also got a heart of gold detka."

It was easy to believe when she looked at you like that, but you still had your reservations, and Yelena could see right through to that.

"I love you, for every last part of you," she readjusted you so that she could cup your cheek while her other hand held your hip, "Whatever you see as a flaw, I see it as you, and therefore it's perfect, because there's nothing flawed about you, you're a beauty worthy of marveling at, you're the perfect they say does not exist; this body of yours is my paradise."

Tears began to stream down your face, and in the past Yelena would freak out, worried that she said something wrong to upset you, but she's come to learn that tears can be joyful. That much she learned when she burst into them the first time you said you loved her, the sweet words dripped from your lips like honey.

"I-I love you Yelena," you blurted in a graceless blubbering manner, "I-I'm sorry for trying to leave you, I was just scared, but I promise you that I don't ever want to lose you, like ever."

"You never will," she purrs, her hand gently gripped you by the plush skin of your hips, "Because I'll never give you up for anything," she murmured against your lips before she slammed hers into yours passionately.

Her lips began to travel down your jaw, your breath hitched when she sucked lightly over the skin. "Lena, we have to go to movie night," you stuttered breathlessly. She groaned, "Do we have to? We can skip it tonight, on account of me wanting to love you until you believe it."

"I do," you whispered, "I believe you," with a genuine tone you brought a smile to her face.

"Then let's go moya lyubov'," Yelena lifted you up into her arms causing you to squeal at her show of strength, "I can walk just fine baby."

"I just didn't want to let you go just yet," she confessed while gently lowering you, and in return for her being so sweet you softly kissed her lips, "We'll be cuddling soon enough."

The two of you rode the elevator to your floor so you could drop off your things, and change into more comfortable clothes, but not until Yelena doctored up your injured hands, with a soft kiss to follow every bandaid she placed.

"Your boo-boos have been handled," she said with a bit of a pout, "I'll be back shortly," and with a soft kiss to your lips that lingered for a moment longer than need be she was gone.

Yelena left to shower off her day in the gym, and you unpacked your things before slipping into a pair of black sweats, with a worn down band t-shirt, and as you always did when feeling somewhat down, you slipped right into your girlfriends oversized army green hoodie.

You knew she bought it for you, but she wore it until it smelled enough like her to calm you... It's become your live in article for her missions.

Yelena's always been so incredibly sweet, you honestly can't believe you tried to end things. Her love has always fixed your problems, she never saw you as anything other than worthy of love, and affection; she was your soulmate.

"Well don't you look cuddly," she noted as she walked up from behind and grabbed your hand, "Can't wait to hold you close, it's cold"

"Cold?" She met your confusion with a sly smirk, then pulled you along wordlessly.

Once she pressed the button for the roof you understood her, excitement overran your body at the idea of a spooky movie under the light of the moon and the surrounding stars. That is until the doors opened to reveal a battered Steve with an ice pack on his bruised cheek, making you tense up, causing Yelena to look away from you and over at the unwelcome.

Before anyone could even mutter a word you got to bare witness to the brick house of a man wordlessly hobbling away after your much smaller girlfriend stepped towards him, and the smug smile that overtook your lovers face was rather priceless, "Lena, baby, you can't solve everything with brutal violence."

"Why not?" She pouted, and it was so innocent in appearance you'd never believe she was a highly skilled assassin in her younger days.

"Words can work too..."

"Yeah, he used words, we used our fists."

"We?"

"Yes, I broke his nose, and hopefully made him unable to reproduce. Wanda and Natasha did the rest to him, remind me to thank them."

"Goodness me, you three keep me on my toes."

Yelena grinned, then kissed you for the rest of the elevator ride. The ding signaled her to stop, and she stepped aside to let you exit first.

"Ta-da," Natasha cheered with jazz hands to draw your attention to the identical hanging day beds settled besides one another, with a table between with popcorn and candy atop.

Then you looked up to see the projector screen was adorned in purple and orange lights with smiling pumpkins after every few bulbs, the beds were littered with fluffy blankets, and there were outdoor heaters nearby for the anticipated maximum comfort level possible.

"I did nothing to help, but I promise I love you, witchy was just too nit-picky, I was safer on the sidelines," she said quietly while pulling you into her for a tight embrace, "I love you too."

"You'll be safer on the couch too if you keep it up," Wanda lightly threatened before taking you from her genuinely terrified lover, "I've prepped lots of food, make a plate honey."

"Where will she pick from if this weird plate is mine?" Yelena asked while holding an entire charcuterie board to her chest, her face never more genuinely serious than right now, and you stifled a laugh at the adorable sight, "Don't worry baby, feel free to enjoy your dinner."

Wanda looked to you scoldingly, worried you were using this as a get out of dinner card, but then you lifted your phone up to show her that it was okay, and you were fine. While Natasha and Yelena scavenged around with snacks, you and Wanda will share a pizza—like normal.

"What will you eat?" Yelena frowned, but you waved her off, "There's popcorn and candy."

Yelena held her plate out anyways, and you smiled while picking off a single cracker and a slice of cheese to top it off., "Thanks love."

"I will not be doing that," Natasha shared with her girlfriend who settled onto the bed beside her with an eye roll, "Oh, I was well aware."

—

When the expected ding of the elevator interrupted the undergoing movie night you smirked over at the witch who had left their outside daybed to collect the pizza, and with a soft kiss to your girlfriends parted lips, and with a careful transferring of a pillow in your place you joined Wanda on the porch swing.

"Every time," you remarked playfully, "Without fail," Wanda added while waving her pizza around for emphasis, "They're total chumps."

"But we love them anyways," you softly added, and Wanda snuggled into your side with a warm smile, "That we do," she whispered, then she hugged onto your arm tight, silently letting you know that she loved you too, and in turn you laid your head over hers on your shoulder as the both of you continued to watch the film.

"I'm sorry Emily; I had to wait 300 years for a virgin to light a candle."

"It was probably Steve..." Wanda nudged your side, and you cackled softly, "Knock it off."

——

[solarmorrigan]

Steve crochets Eddie a scarf part 1, part 2, part 3, Ao3

-

Steve has heard of knitting circles, of course, but he’d never expected to be a part of one.

(Of course, since it’s just him, Joyce, and El, and none of them knit, it’s really more of a crocheting triangle – except for that one time Murray Bauman joined them; he knits, because of course he does, and that had made it into more of a mixed yarncraft square, but that doesn’t really roll off the tongue.)

He also hadn’t expected that the true purpose of a knitting circle (crocheting triangle) is not to better facilitate any kind of fiber crafting, but mostly to spend time snacking and gossiping.

He can’t say he really minds.

“So, Steve,” Joyce says, looking up from the baby blanket she’s been working on (one of her coworkers, Margey, is pregnant; she’s a nice young woman whose boyfriend doesn’t deserve her, and who very much hopes she’s having a girl, even though her boyfriend wants a son, so Joyce is making the blanket optimistically—or vindictively—pink. Steve loves that he knows all of this), “I never did ask – did that someone like their scarf?”

“Oh. Um.” He has no idea how to answer that. Eddie had definitely liked the scarf, had liked it enough to give Steve a gift in return—a very thoughtful one, actually—and then Steve had gone and ruined it and probably scared Eddie away forever, and maybe now Eddie wanted nothing to do with the scarf?

Steve really has no idea.

He’s probably been silent for too long, though.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they did. Thanks again for your help.”

Steve follows this statement with an incredibly nonchalant gulp of coffee, which is about when El turns to him and asks, “Who is ‘someone’? Did you finish a scarf for someone other than Eddie?”

Coffee is not air, and it does not belong in Steve’s lungs. Luckily, he only inhales a little bit of it, and manages to cough it out before Joyce feels the need to reach over and thump him on the back.

“No. Nope, just… just Eddie’s,” Steve rasps, decidedly not looking at the knowing smile that’s tucked itself up in the corners of Joyce’s mouth.

“Oh. Well, then he definitely likes it,” El says. “He’s wearing it every time I see him.”

“That sounds like a good sign,” Joyce says leadingly.

“Yeah, maybe.” Steve shrugs and focuses on his new project (Henderson’s scarf; it’s thinner than Eddie’s but broader, so it can be folded over, and he’s making it with colorful, variegated yarn).

“Are you going to ask him out?” Joyce asks.

Steve wonders if it’s possible to drown himself in his cup of coffee.

It doesn’t matter either way; El’s attention has already snapped back to him, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and she’d probably just find a way to drag him back from the dead.

“Are you?” El demands with a grin.

Abandoning his crochet hook, Steve reaches up to shove his fingers under his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose (he’s still getting used to the glasses; he doesn’t like wearing them, but they do help with his migraines, and Joyce makes disappointed Mom faces at him when he doesn’t wear them, so he at least brings them to the crochet triangle). “Probably not.”

He can hear the frown in El’s voice as she asks, “Why not?”

“Pretty sure I blew my chances there,” Steve sighs.

“What happened?” Joyce asks; when Steve lets his glasses fall back into place to chance a glance in her direction, she looks sympathetic.

It’s been about a week since Steve sent Eddie running from his house, and Steve hasn’t really had the opportunity to talk to anyone about it yet. Robin would usually be the first (and probably only) person to hear about it, but he hasn’t quite been ready for what he knows will be an entirely honest, but not entirely gentle, assessment of the situation.

El and Joyce are likely to be kinder, but it also feels a little weird to talk to them about his love life. Joyce has been more of a mother to him than his own ever was, and even though El is rapidly approaching sixteen, she’s still like nothing so much as a kid sister. Do people talk about this sort of thing with family members? Steve has no idea.

Whatever.

“He, uh. He actually brought me a gift,” Steve finally says, finding great interest in the view out the window behind Joyce. “Like, to say thank you for the scarf.”

Joyce nods encouragingly.

“What was it?” El asks.

“A, uh. A Hellfire shirt. For his little nerd club. Except he said that it’s our nerd club now because I’m a member, even though I don’t play.” Steve shrugs. “I guess because I do other stuff for them.”

“That sounds nice, Steve,” Joyce says, and Steve nods.

“It was. It is! It was really nice, and I wanted to show him I appreciated it, so I gave him a hug, right? And that was nice, too, and he returned it, and he – like, he seemed interested,” Steve’s on a roll now, there’s no stopping the car crash of words coming out of his mouth, of all the habits he had to pick up from Robin– “so, y’know, when he said he hoped he got the right size shirt, I said maybe I should try it on to make sure, and he said that was a good idea, and—I would like to reiterate, he really seemed interested—so I just, y’know, kinda took off my shirt right there. In front of him. To try the new one on. And I might’ve thrown the other one at him. And he left very quickly after that.”

Of all the reactions Steve had expected, Joyce laughing at him hadn’t been high on the list, but that’s exactly what she does. So hard she nearly falls out of her chair.

Steve watches her in open-mouthed shock for a moment before exclaiming, “It’s not funny!”

“No, no, no, I’m sorry!” Joyce gasps in between peals of laughter, flapping a hand at him. “Of course it isn’t!”

This draws a giggle out of El, and Steve turns to point a finger at her. “Don’t you start, too.”

El slaps a hand over her mouth, but it’s very clear that she, too, is laughing.

“I seriously think I scared him off!” Steve insists. “He ran out of there so fast he took my sweater with him. I liked that sweater.”

This only makes Joyce laugh harder, and Steve has no choice but to sit back on the couch with a huff and wait for the mirth to die out.

“Okay,” Joyce breathes, running a thumb under her eyes to catch the tears while El does her best to bite down on her smile. “Okay, I’m sorry, I’m good now.”

Steve grumbles, picking his scarf back up, but he can’t say that he’s really that displeased; it’s nice, after everything, to hear everyone still laugh (and even if he’d prefer it not be at his expense, he doesn’t mind now and then).

“Do you want my advice, sweetie?” Joyce asks.

“Since I’m providing entertainment, it only seems fair,” Steve says, and Joyce snorts.

“Okay.” She abandons her chair and comes to perch on the arm of the sofa beside Steve, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in a one-armed hug that he doesn’t resist in the slightest. “You probably did come on a little strong.”

Steve sags a little against Joyce, and she’s quick to continue. “But! I really don’t think you ruined your chances. Maybe he just wasn’t expecting such an… immediate reaction, or maybe he was worried that he was misreading the situation–”

“How can you misread someone taking their shirt off?”

“People convince themselves of all sorts of things where love is involved,” Joyce says, rubbing Steve’s shoulder, and Steve mentally swaps out ‘love’ for ‘feelings,’ because he can’t think about love right now (not again, not yet). “But Eddie seems like a pretty straightforward kind of guy; I’m sure he’d have told you if he wasn’t interested. You should just be honest with him. Talk to him.”

“But that’s not how it works,” El pipes up from Steve’s other side.

Steve and Joyce both look over, and El sets down the rainbow beanie she’s been working on (it has an absolutely excessive pompom on top, and Steve really hopes she’s planning to make Mike wear it), preparing to explain.

“In the movies,” El says earnestly, “that is not how it works. No one just talks about it, that’s… weird.”

Steve grins. El’s latest endeavor in pop culture education has been romcoms; she’s been devouring the entire section at Family Video, and Steve has taken great pleasure in offering her recommendations (Robin, meanwhile, insists he’s poisoning El’s mind with pre-packaged, heteronormative trash; Steve says Robin is just jealous that El doesn’t like her film recommendations; Robin tells Steve to go crochet a doily; then they get into an argument over the purpose of doilies—Robin insists they’re purely decorative, but Steve is certain they must have some kind of use—and forget about their original argument entirely).

“She has a point,” Steve says. “I can’t just go up to Eddie like, ‘Hey, sorry for sorta stripping in front of you, are we still cool, man?’ That would be really awkward.”

Joyce gives him a dry look. “Well you don’t have to phrase it like that.”

“Exactly!” Steve snaps his fingers, pointing at Joyce. “I can still talk to him, I just have to… you know, talk around it. Play it cool.”

El nods sagely. “Play it cool,” she echoes.

“See? El’s got me.” Steve grins, gesturing back at El for good measure.

“Okay.” Joyce holds her hands up, as if in surrender. “Apparently you guys know best. I’ll just take my advice and my happy relationship and go back to my chair.”

Steve shrugs. “Well, yeah, your method worked on Hopper, but I’m not trying to get with Hopper.”

“Ew.” El reaches over and gives Steve a shove. Joyce has a hand over her eyes, clearly trying not to laugh again.

“It’ll be fine, you’ll see,” Steve insists, and Joyce gives an affirmative hum that doesn’t really sound like she believes him at all.

But she will see. He’s just going to play it cool, Steve decides, as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and goes back to crocheting a scarf for a mouthy fifteen-year-old he has trouble saying ‘no’ to.

He’s totally cool.

-

Steve realizes as the phone starts ringing that maybe he should have come up with a plan before dialing Eddie’s number.

The thing is, Steve isn’t really much of a planner; he has an idea, he follows through with the idea. He can deal with the consequences of the idea when they arise.

Unfortunately, the consequence of his current idea is Eddie answering the phone, and it has just arisen.

“Hello?”

Steve blanks.

Greeting. He should greet Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

Nice.

“Steve. Hey.” Eddie doesn’t sound displeased, but maybe a little higher pitched than normal. Nervous? Maybe that’s just the connection.

There is a moment of awkward silence in which neither of them says anything because Steve is the one who called and he hasn’t told Eddie what he called for, mostly because his idea had pretty much boiled down to ‘call Eddie, feel out the situation, but don’t talk about the thing.’

It’s Eddie who finally speaks, sounding more like himself when he asks, “So, what can I do for you?”

“Oh, I was just calling to… check,” Steve pauses, briefly, thinking frantically, “what kind of snacks you wanted. For Friday.”

“…Friday.”

Steve’s stomach drops. Did Eddie actually want nothing to do with him now, or had he just forgotten?

“Yeah. You guys were planning to play over at my place this week. That’s… still a thing, right?”

“Right! Yes, yeah, it’s – yeah.” Steve can almost see Eddie nodding on the other end. “I just wasn’t sure you’d… want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to?” Steve frowns; they are perilously close to talking about it.

“Uh. No reason, I guess? Didn’t want to make assumptions on your behalf,” Eddie says. “Y’know, sweep in and totally take over your house when you’re not feeling it, and then you’re standing there giving us invaders your best mom glare.”

Steve rolls his eyes, fond despite himself. “I do not have a mom glare,” he says (Eddie isn’t going to listen, just like no one else listens when he tries to tell them the same thing). “Anyway, how about you just tell me what you want to eat, huh?”

“Oh, you know me, I’m not picky,” Eddie says breezily. “I’ll eat whatever you want to feed me.”

“You know that means you’re not allowed to complain about what I pick, right?” Steve says, banishing the thought of actually feeding something to Eddie (but– flirting. Flirting is a good sign, right?).

“Not a peep. Cross my heart,” Eddie says, and Steve can’t help but smile in response to the way he’s certain Eddie must also be smiling right now.

“Uh huh,” Steve hums, as if he doesn’t believe Eddie (and he doesn’t, really, because Eddie is pickier than he makes himself out to be, and he will complain if only to be a nuisance), and he wants to leave it there, leave it on that light note of banter, but– he also wants to be sure. “Hey, Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want me to wear the shirt?”

There’s a beat of silence. “Well, it is standard club attire, Steve,” Eddie teases, and Steve gives in to a little huff of frustration.

He bites the bullet, decides to be just a little more direct. “Sure, but– do you want me to wear it?”

“I–” Eddie starts, stops, falls silent. Steve holds his breath. Then, finally: “Yeah. I really do.”

Steve sighs out into a grin. “Great. I’ll, uh. I’ll see you Friday, then?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says again, “I’ll see you Friday.”

Steve’s pretty sure he hasn’t had fucking butterflies in his stomach since maybe his junior year of high school, but damn if he doesn’t get them now, just thinking about the end of the week.

(He’s probably beyond pretending he’s anything like cool about this, but he’s surprisingly okay with that.)

-

Friday evening brings the promised onslaught of invaders, and Steve greets them at the door, the foyer filling with the squeaking of snow-wet shoes and the extended rustling of winter coats being shucked and shoved into the closet.

It’s the kids who come in first—just Dustin, Lucas, Mike, and Will tonight—chattering at each other and at Steve and making themselves right at home, as usual, but it’s the older Hellfire members who clock Steve’s shirt first. He can see the moment Jeff sets eyes on it, elbowing Gareth and nodding at Steve; Gareth snickers, which alerts Grant, who looks at Steve and rolls his eyes.

Steve raises his eyebrows at the three of them, but they don’t seem inclined to say anything. They don’t even seem that surprised.

Dustin, however, speaks up almost immediately upon noticing.

“Steve, what are you wearing?”

“Clothes,” Steve retorts. “What are you wearing?”

Mike, now alerted to Steve’s choice in attire, looks utterly affronted. “Where the hell did you get that?” he demands.

“It was a gift, Wheeler, don’t burst a blood vessel,” Steve says, which does not seem to go a long way at all in getting the kid to chill out.

“The t-shirts are for Hellfire members only,” Mike says, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Which is how we know Steve is a member,” Eddie says from the doorway, where he’s finally made it in from parking the van, his jacket still zipped and the scarf Steve made for him wrapped around his neck.

“He’s not, though!” Mike insists. “He doesn’t even play!”

Eddie hums, stepping fully into the foyer and shutting the door behind himself before making a show of looking around the room.

“Tell me, Wheeler: whose house are we in right now?”

Mike stares at Eddie, brows raised, not quite able to tell if he’s being asked a trick question or not. “Steve’s?”

“And who probably has snacks waiting in the kitchen for our ravenous horde?” Eddie goes on.

This time, Mike sighs. “Steve, but–”

Eddie cuts in. “And who gives those of you without the ability to legally operate a motor vehicle rides to and from club meetings whenever your little hearts desire?”

“Technically, we rode with Jeff and Grant tonight,” Dustin pipes up.

“Other club members! An excellent point, Henderson!” Eddie points to Dustin in agreement, who mostly looks baffled, if a little amused. “It’s a service we provide for each other.”

Mike rolls his eyes. “Yeah, but–”

“Now tell me, Wheeler,” Eddie rolls right over Mike’s protest, slinging an arm across his shoulders. “Who founded the Hellfire Club?”

“You did,” Mike says, glancing uncertainly at Eddie.

“And who ultimately decides whether or not to grant membership to another person?”

“…You do.”

“And who, pray tell, has the ability to make tonight’s session very challenging for our party’s gallant paladin?” Eddie smiles, sharply saccharine in the face of Mike’s sour frown, and reaches up to pat Mike on the cheek when he doesn’t answer. “And don’t you forget it.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Couldn’t you have picked a better-fitting shirt, though?” Lucas asks Steve.

“It was a gift,” Steve reiterates. “And shut up, this fits fine.”

“Right,” Dustin drawls, looking from Steve to Eddie with narrow-eyed suspicion.

“I didn’t realize my fashion choices were that interesting,” Steve scoffs. “Are you guys gonna play tonight, or not? Some of you do still have a curfew, and I’m not fielding angry parent calls again.”

This gets everyone back in motion, the group trickling out of the foyer and through the living area to get to the dining room. Gareth is the last one to go, bouncing his eyebrows and grinning at Eddie, who gives him an entirely ineffectual shove and sends him laughing out of the room.

And then it’s just Eddie and Steve.

“I really do like the shirt,” Steve says, hoping to fill the silence before it curdles awkwardly between them. “It’s comfy.”

Eddie smiles, different from the sharp one he’d pulled out a moment ago, now amused and fond and much more real. “It’s a good look for you,” he says, looking Steve up and down, and– that.

That had been the reaction Steve had been hoping for when he’d first put it on.

Maybe he had come on a little too strong at first. Maybe Eddie had just needed time. But whatever had happened, Eddie seems to be fully on board now.

“It’s definitely growing on me,” Steve says. “But I’m kind of getting the feeling that you like it more.”

“Guilty,” Eddie admits, with remarkably little guilt.

But when he steps forward, closing in on Steve’s space, the hand he raises is hesitant. Steve doesn’t move, tries very hard to broadcast that he is very alright with this, and smiles when Eddie finally brushes his fingers along the line of Steve’s collar.

“What can I say? I like seeing a little me on you,” Eddie says.

Steve reaches up to tug at the scarf, still tied around Eddie’s neck. “I think I know the feeling,” he says. “But you should let me take these for you. You have to be melting by now.”

“We don’t all run hot, Harrington,” Eddie grumbles, even as he’s unwrapping the scarf. “I even dressed in an extra layer tonight.”

Steve is about to ask Eddie what the hell he’s talking about when Eddie unzips his jacket in one decisive motion and reveals– Steve’s sweater. The one Eddie had accidentally(?) walked out with last week.

He’s wearing it under his jacket.

It looks good on him, a bright splash of blue-green where there are usually only more subdued shades, and Steve can only take Eddie’s jacket with automatically curling fingers as it’s pressed into his hand.

“I’ve been wondering if you were going to bring that back,” Steve finally says. “It’s one of my favorites.”

There’s a moment of flusterment before Eddie smirks at Steve. “You mean you didn’t want me to keep it? You seemed so worried about how cold I’ve been,” he says. “And you did throw it at me.”

It’s Steve’s turn to flush under Eddie’s words. “Yeah, well, I didn’t expect you to run off with it.”

Eddie bites his lip. “Okay, yeah, I might’ve… panicked. A little bit,” he admits. “I wasn’t really expecting to, uh. To get what I wanted. Wasn’t sure what to do with it.”

Alright– alright, fine. Steve concedes. They might have to actually talk about it. Just a little.

“You don’t have to do anything with it. You’re not obligated,” Steve says. “But it’s there for you, whenever you want it. If you do still want it.”

Eddie’s eyes meet Steve’s, dark and sincere. “I really, really do. Didn’t mean to make you doubt.”

The silence sits softly between them this time, filled with a smiling kind of certainty. Steve isn’t particularly worried about it becoming awkward, but he finds he can’t help but tease, “So do I get my sweater back, or what?”

“Well, it is kind of warm, now that I’m inside. I guess I should give it back,” Eddie says.

He takes a step back from Steve and promptly whips the sweater off, rucking up the Hellfire shirt he’s wearing underneath and revealing a stretch of lean stomach before he pulls the hem of the t-shirt back down and tosses the sweater at Steve.

“That’s better,” Eddie declares. “I can go get the game started now.”

The teasing glint in Eddie’s eye as he turns away is all Steve needs to dump the clothes in his arms onto the side table and reach out to catch Eddie around the waist.

“Nope, not yet,” Steve says, pulling Eddie back towards him.

Eddie starts to speak, maybe to question him, probably to tease him, but Steve thinks they’ve waited long enough. With one hand still resting on Eddie’s waist, Steve brings his other up to cup his cheek, and leans in.

He can’t say who really initiates it, because Eddie meets him halfway and is kissing him back with equal fervor; he’s clearly recovered from the chill he’d been bothered by earlier, because his lips are warm and inviting against Steve’s.

They don’t stop until they stumble into the hall table, their surroundings having momentarily melted away into unimportant background fuzz.

“Figured I should really thank you for the shirt,” Steve barely pulls away enough to murmur against Eddie’s growing smile. “I thought about crocheting you a hat, but I think this is probably better.”

“Definitely better. But you know, I’ll have to reciprocate in kind.” Eddie shakes his head with the fakest look of regret Steve’s ever seen. “Shit, Steve, if I keep thanking you and you keep thanking me, we might be at this a while.”

Steve laughs, a small breath of amusement as he tilts his head to greet Eddie’s next kiss. “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Epilogue | Ao3]

-

First, I’d like to thank @theysherobinbuckley for putting the idea of Steve, Joyce, and El having a crochet circle into my head. It was something I never knew I needed until I saw their tags

Second: Tag List. I hope I caught everyone, I am very sorry if I missed you, though!

  @infinitetrashbag, @unclewaynemunson, @thehumblefigtree, @courtjestermunson, @tillystealeaves, @darkwitchoferie, @phantypurple, @ceaselessly-watching, @annabell257, @momotonescreaming, @silentiumdelirium, @gamerdano, @panicatthediaz, @bejeweledbaby, @strawberryspence, @stevesbipanic, @henderdads @cuips-not-cute, @silversnaffles, @thegingervulcan, @cr0w-culture, @gamerdano, @yourebuckingkiddingme, @mightbeasleep, @tpwkweasley7, @sharkruption, @bye-zai, @paperbackribs, @stitchinaride, @cookies-and-doom, @maya-custodios-dionach, @twopenguinsunderatrenchcoat, @freddykicksasses, @flustratedcas, @marivictal

[dasinclair]

I see you ship Cecil/Debbie…

Any head cannons for them?

yes of course

so... i do think they're sort of "doomed in every universe" in that they can never really be together and they know that. debbie deserves better and they both know that. maybe they're a little afraid of the idea that they could be happy. they know what they're feeling but can't ever say it

HOWEVER debbie and cecil are very, very good at reading each other. they can have entire conversations through eye movement alone

cecil greatly admires debbie's strength and he also sees a bit of himself in her, especially after nolan's betrayal. he knows what it's like to carry so much pain that you deny yourself happiness and he just wants to take some of that burden off her

also she is of course the most beautiful woman he has ever seen in his life. but he tries not to think about that

debbie telling cecil she's always hated him isn't quite true. she HAS been deeply conflicted about him for a long time, yes. but she was (rightfully) angry, and she knew saying that would hurt him, and she can be a little vindictive when she wants to be

...and that's something cecil likes about her. not a lot of things can affect him like she does. she isn't afraid of saying whatever she wants to him, often things he needs to hear. kinda makes him feel like a human being again

for debbie's part, she knows cecil will stand by her even when she lashes out like she sometimes feels the need to do. he won't judge her even in her most desperate moments of weakness. it feels good to have that

debbie was warmer towards cecil early on because she was genuinely curious about him and his line of work. i think she'd actually be interested in the bureaucratic aspects of superheroism

the first time cecil had dinner with the graysons (debbie's invitation) he was very awkward and stiff and overly professional. debbie picked up on this and did her best to make him feel comfortable. that stuck in his mind, and he tries to do the same for her still

cecil will remember the smallest personal gesture for a long time. he has a lot of things to keep track of, and he can't afford to be sentimental, but... maybe he's a little less efficient when he's around debbie

making her laugh is his favorite thing. the times it's happened it was usually something he said that he didn't even realize was funny, but he can't help but smile when she does

they take smoke breaks together and light each other's cigarettes. old habits die hard and they both understand

cecil once told nolan something along the lines of "you're a lucky man" and then backpedaled as fast as humanly possible as soon as nolan raised an eyebrow

multiverse bonus

in every dimension where debbie aligns herself with nolan, cecil comes to her personally in the hopes that she can be reasoned with and she'll let the gda keep her safe. in at least one of those universes, debbie takes advantage of this to kill him herself <3

there's also a few dimensions where they've died in each other's arms. these are probably the only ones where they can bring themselves to outright say they love each other, because at that point not a lot else matters

[laneynoir]

Heyyy :)

I was wondering if you could do “How long has it been since someone hugged you?” From the writing prompts, but with Y/n asking Legolas that? Cuz I thought that would be fitting ig.

I love youuu <33

I adore this idea! And of course, I've never tried to write a wedding scene before, so please don't shoot me (or do, that's your choice.)

"A month!" The cry of Gimli is met with an amused expression from the king. "Near an entire month yet you've kept us here, under no clear pretense! Only now to tell us that this elven lass is to be your bride?" Here does Gimli pause, looking to Arwen. "You are a lass? I thought Legolas was for the first week of our journy, your braids are so odd."

Laughter as soft and glowing as the stars flows from the Lady Undómiel. "Yes Lord Gimli, I seem to remember your father, Gloin, making the same mistake. Worry not though, you have not insulted me any more than you did my grandmother when you asked her favour."

"Well I for one," You break in before Gimli can start another speech on the grace of Galadriel. "Would like to be the first to offer you both congratulations. My heart sings that you should finaly be wed, I can think of no better a reward in peacetime for what you hace done for our world."

Legolas echoes your words. "Indeed, I can think of none more deserving of this union, prehaps Lord Elrond has finally decided you worthy of the sceptre of Annúminnas?" The jest is taken goodnaturedly by Aragorn, who responds with a false groan. However the comment perplexes the residant Hobbits, and it is Pippin who asks what on earth 'and you minnes' is.

A lovely smirk on her face, Arwen supplies. "When he was young, and first come to Imladrís, Aragorn was given the heirlooms of his house, save the Sceptre of Annúminnas which my father withheld until Aragorn should earn it. This supplied my brothers with a bet: for which could Aragorn earn first? Arwen or The 'shiney stick'? My father learned of this bet before, and with some vindictive pleasure enssured that Aragorn should gain both at once."

The laughter of the fellowship causes no embarrassment for the Man, he has eyes only for his beloved. "All true words, though I am afraid still that I will never truly earn your love, but I will spend the rest of my days trying."

After the others who are there offer their congradulations, Sam asks a question which has obviously been bothering him. "Begging you pardon, but who do you have making the cake? Strider hasn't introduced us to any of his family, and I was curious."

Aragorn frowns. "The... Cake? I suppose one of the cooks will provide a cake." Four gasps of horror, and one of laughter (from you) resound at the statement. "I beg your pardon, it seems we've reached a cultural differance yet again. Samwise, would you tell us of this tradition?"

Despite the faint blush on his cheeks, Sam agrees. "Cakes are very important at wedding sir! Why the very though of not having one is horrible. When a couple is joined in matrimony, the youger parent of the younger partner bakes the cake. At the wedding, the couple slices the cake which is colored on the inside, and if a bit of the blue is on the spoon, the first child will be a girl, if it's red, then the babe will be a boy."

Aragorn smiles kindly at the hobbit. "It would surly be a shame to skip such a delightful tradition, though my blood family no longer lives. If it is I would ask you to fill the task?"

Sam's face lights up in pride and delight. "It would be an honour, I promise that no pastry will ever rival the wedding cake of the first restored rulers of Gondor!"

~

The entire city seems to have accepted invitations for the wedding; people of all ages crowd around the the palace gardens (which, true to his word, Legolas has assisted in whiping into shape).Vines of deep greens creep down contrasting white stone arches, life on cold rock, hope in an empty place.

Aragorn stands under one such arch, dressed in royal garb that has caused at least two of his new subjects to swoon. His face shows nothing but calm content- at least on the surface. However to the eye of one who has traveled for high on a year with the man, and lived for his youth in Imladrís, you can see the stress in his eye.

Standing on the side of Aragorns honour guests, you send him what you hope is a comforting and encouraging smile. He inclines his head just the slightest amount, acknowledging you. His attention shifts rapidly however as a string of clear music flows from the hands of the twin elven minstrels.

As one, the congregation of men, elves, hobbits, a wizard, and dwarves alike turn to the opening in the garden wall that separates the high garden feom the battlements.

Framed against the ivy, the light of early dusk adds an ethereal effect to the Evenstar; Arwen. The dress she wears is simple at first glance, a simple white gown with green trimmings. The waves of fabric seem to float around her; her steps are so light they seem nonexistent, she takes Aragorn's hand after steping onto the slightly raised platform.

The ceremony is short, but breathtakingly beautiful. A satin cloth so pure it glows is wrapped around the Royal couple's hands. Eyes locked on the other, they resite there vows, words so heartfelt that very few eye stay dry, and when they seal the union with a passionate kiss that has a watery-eyed Elrond grimacing, the applause is deafening.

Your hands sting with how hard you clap, and you pause, eyes drawn to Legolas beside you. He wears his soft smile, the one that just barely turns the corners of his lips up, yet still makes your heart shudder. Still though, there seems to be an indescribable light in his eye, that hints at somthing hidden behind the facade of content grace and joy he usually keeps.

Curious, you stick close to your elven friend throughout the reception, and as the toasts pass, and the dancing has moved away from the consistent expectation of nobles asking gor a dance, you withdraw to a more secluded area of the brightly lit room. Your eyes wander over the sea of elegantly dressed people, searching as always for the light presance that holds your heart.

"Do you look for someone, Y/n?"

You jolt at the voice, turning happily to Legolas. "Indeed, my prince, though ive found him now." He smiles, but it looks almost... Strained. Sipping on the rosehip wine in your hand you look over the elf. He meets your gaze with the same calm as usual- at least on the surface.

Looking closer you notice the delicate crease in his brow, faint and noticeable as a small ripple on a clear, calm lake. His fingertips tap together, one after the other, each touching once, before he appears to catch himself, and the movement stops, leaving the hands tense.

His actions, and lack thereof, remind you of those before a battle, however legolas even usually did not exhibit such, not even before the throes of Mordor were washed upon you all.

"Legolas," you ask, hesitantly, "what bothers you?"

His eyes widen a moment, before his expression softens. "Nothing of any great importance. Only... I find the sounds and smells of such a large gathering almost suffocating." He says this as if it were a crime, and he were addmiting to such before a council. "Especially after so long of traveling, I have become unacustomed to life in court, and thus the stress which acompanys."

The knowledge that Legolas has been in discomfort for some time, as it draws near midnight, sets a feeling of dismay in your stomach. Straightening yourself resolutely, your snatch up his hand and weave yourself among the outskirts of the crowd.

Through an ornate door you pull Legolas into a small garden, and while the sound of sparse minsterals can be heard, the sound of talking fades into the background. "Better?" You ask, peering at Legolas.

He nods, but you have no time to admire the light in his bearing before he is bowed over your hand. "May I have this dance?"

The question startled you, but you quickly affirm your acceptance, allowing him to pull you closer, and the soft instrumental tune provides a leisurely beat to step with. You meet his eyes, and a mist covers them, so doing the natural thing you remove your hands from Legolas' own, you wrap him in an embrace.

When he stiffens, you make to pull back, but instead he tightens his grip in a way that you can feel the muckes beneath his tunic, his head nestles into the crook of your neck.

Running a hand along his spine in what you hope is an appropriately comforting motion, you feel the damp of his eyes drip onto your skin. "Oh Legolas," You trail off a deapseated sorrow filling your very soul at the inability to know what brings such display to the usually strong and lighthearted elf. "How long has it been since someone hugged you?”

"I- don't..."

At the words you gently pull him to the ground, a movement which is slightly hindered by his unwillingness to release you. When you reach a half sitting, half kneeling position, he draws back slightly. "I apologize, I-" you cut him off with a fingertip to the lips.

"Please do not let such words nor guilt fill you," you trace the line of his brow, and see the pink hue in his eye from tears long withheld. "I love you, and any service I may do, or condolence I can offer... All that I have is yours, please do not try to take the privilege of heloing you away."

A choked "Meleth" is all Legolas can reply to the declaration, but the intent is visable, so you pull him closer, and run the silk soft hairs of his head through your fingers.

For you meant it, anything for him is well worth doing, and you would be colder than the stone in a creek before you could even think about galting your care.

[kechiwrites]

Just read white flag and UUUUUUUGH my heart hurts and my head hurts and my nose is all stopped up. Ugly crying is the only way to go about this.

Then I started thinking, how torn up would ghost have been if Tommy knew nothing about him. And when he asks (as all kids do) reader let years of anger and hate guide her tongue when she tells their son she doesn't know the big scary man but she won't let him hurt them. I just can't rn. I hurt my own damn feelings and I just stopped crying from reading your last fic.

no because let's talk about it!

toxic baby daddy ghost x reader : angst of course, slightly suggestive content, hints at dubious consent, no proofreading, we die like reader's empathy, no gendered language, no use of y/n ever

imagine you swinging open the front door, tommy all knotted up in the legs of your pants, four years old and so insanely bright, smart for his age, all the preschool teachers say so. he's all sweet voice and chubby cheeks and little hands that cling to you just a bit tighter when the big man dressed in black fills your doorway.

the skull mask is firmly in place, like he couldn't be bothered to change into his civvies, and you would laugh if you weren't so sure it would end in heaving, desperate sobs. His eyes burn a hole into your face, hovering over your mouth, your eyes, your nose, your throat; cataloguing what's the same, studying what's different. you hope to god he's committed it all to memory, the disgust in your gaze, the anger that curls your lip, because you'll do your level best to ensure he never gets the chance to see it again.

"who're you?" tommy inquires, when it's clear that the two of you are just going to fucking stand there and immediately ghost's gaze slinks lower, until he's staring at your son, like he can't believe the little boy is right there. your boy, for all his vocal, youthful curiosity, hides under the scrutiny, and his fear spurs you into action. you scoop him up, a task that gets harder by the day, and heft him onto your hip.

"he's no one, sweetie." you slam the door closed with your free hand and thank god he doesn't think to wedge his foot in before it shuts completely. later, you think, vindictively, victoriously; 'i did that, that defeated look in his eye', after all, if he wanted tommy to know him, to love him, then maybe he should've let you take a picture of his face as is, given you something to show your kid at the very least when he inevitably asked where the fuck he came from. better yet, maybe he shouldn't have poured acid all over the relationship you'd once had. maybe he should've stuck around instead of leaving you to fend for your goddamn self. when you tuck tommy in, he asks after "the man" again, the ghoul newly haunting your neighbourhood. his voice is subdued, sleepy and yet somehow still shaky with fear.

"i would never let him hurt you, baby." you whisper, and his grateful, baby-toothed smile solidifies a whisper of a thought into a full blown plan. by the next morning, half of your bedroom is packed up, and when tommy stirs awake, you pitch a "road trip to grandma's". 14 hours away will just have to be far enough, for now anyway. this didn't actually happen, of course. you were too shellshocked to give ghost what he oh so rightly deserved. you'd gaped and gawked and stepped to the side when he inclined his head like he wanted to come in because even after four lonely years, the two of you still sustain a language of sounds and gestures and touches so soft the memory of them nearly ceased to exist after they were done. he stuck around for hours, introducing himself to tommy, shaking your baby's hand in a sterile show of his own discomfort, hunkering down in your living room while you guided tommy through your night time routine. once your son was snug in his bed, snoring softly, ghost used your shock to intrude on your personal space, used your hesitation to touch you, first gentle, then harder. until you cede to familiar sensation.

teehee!

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