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mbti-notes · 1 year

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Anon wrote: INFJ. My question is about toxic workplace environments. Is there a reasonable way to deal with a boss who constantly reproaches, belittles and humiliates her employees; who constantly moves the goalposts, saying something one day and something else the next, then reprimanding us for essentially not being able to mind-read and figure out exactly what she wants each millisecond; who rarely gives feedback without turning it into a personal attack; who yells and throws blame at us when something doesn’t go the way she wants; who discourages autonomy and independence by requiring us to run every little decision through her and accuses us of attempting to ruin her business when we try to act independently (within reason)? And when she realizes she’s pushed someone too far, she switches her game entirely and plays nice for a while.

One colleague has broken down in tears twice after a particularly ruthless reproach and I’ve been wondering if there isn’t a limit to how much an employee can take. Is there a way to somehow detach from her mistreatment and scrape together what little positive there is to this situation (acquiring experience and finding something better in a few months), without letting it affect our self-esteem and mental health, or is it unreasonable to keep subjecting ourselves to this?

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1) The Allure of Anger and Blame

If you want to handle any kind of relationship well, the first step is to examine the facts of yourself and whether you're approaching the situation in a way that might be co-creating the problem or making the problem worse. I sympathize and agree that her behavior is problematic. However, if you allow her behavior to bring out the worst in you, how can you think, plan, and communicate to the best of your ability and handle the problem intelligently? Emotional intelligence and social intelligence intersect in that moment your feelings/emotions are at risk of spilling out onto others.

Is it safe to say that you're angry? Have you processed your anger? Or have you continually suppressed it to the point of rage or hate? Anger is an indication of brokenness, e.g., expectations were dashed, trust was damaged, or boundaries were violated. The reality is that you don't control the world and sometimes things break, so what do you do with that brokenness? Well, do you understand the difference between being informed versus being consumed by anger? The former leads you to rebuild whatever you can after destruction, while the latter perpetuates destruction.

What kind of person do you want to be: the one who behaves constructively or destructively? Your question indicates that you wish to handle the situation constructively and even help those who have been victimized. But unacknowledged and unexamined anger puts you at risk of letting loose your destructive tendencies and making impulsive decisions, especially if you are already prone to Ti loop and Se grip issues. Yeah, you could channel your inner bully and knock her down a few pegs, but would you feel at peace with yourself for it? Maybe she wasn't always like this. Maybe she just learned to justify her bullying behavior. Do you want to travel that same path?

Unresolved anger, hate, or rage contributes to a blaming mindset. Blaming people is usually a futile attempt to reclaim whatever you think they robbed from you, e.g., power, agency, safety, comfort, opportunity, etc. Blame produces dark thoughts and distorted beliefs about justice, responsibility, and punishment. Some people blame themselves and feel like crap, while some people blame others and feel like crap. Blame is always counterproductive because it ultimately destroys the possibility of relationship. After all, how can you work with someone when you're too disgusted to even look at them?

You have to ask yourself what's more important to you: your feelings of righteousness in condemning her, or having a functional professional relationship with her? You can't have both without feeling like you're being torn apart within. Relationship aside, you should want to have a good handle on your dark tendencies purely for the sake of your own psychological well-being. It's not good for you to be consumed by negativity. You have to make good choices about where to direct your attention and energy.

Remember that the people who offend you have something valuable to teach you. Anger can teach you to have better awareness of your emotional triggers, to know exactly where your boundaries lie, and it grants you opportunities to reflect on how to better protect yourself from harm (especially if you exhibit a pattern of being mistreated or exploited). What does your anger tell you about what you need, want, expect, and hope for out of the relationship? Make a list, then reflect on the best means, methods, and strategies for moving forward on those things.

Once you've processed your feelings and emotions, you are in a much better frame of mind to communicate to people, assertively and matter-of-factly: what you need/want, what your goals/hopes are, where your boundaries are, why the boundaries must be respected, what will happen when boundaries aren't respected, and how they can help you be your better self and co-create a better relationship.

Setting healthy boundaries means being able to clearly distinguish between what is your business and what is not your business. Take responsibility for what is yours; do NOT take responsibility for what is theirs. You get to choose how you approach situations; you don't get to choose how people respond. If you choose to take responsibility for what isn't yours, that's on you to rectify. The second you return her bad behavior with more bad behavior, you lose yourself, and you are at risk of getting entangled in a vicious cycle of violence. Purely for the sake of your own well-being, you have to be able to walk away from conflict with your integrity intact, knowing that you made your best effort to handle the situation constructively.

2) Whose definition of "reasonable"?

Basically, you're asking me how to reason with an unreasonable person. You can't, especially if you're so angry about them being unreasonable that you're not being reasonable anymore.

After you've tried reasoning with someone once, twice, three times, and they're unable to return with a reasonable response, it's safe to conclude that you're speaking two totally different languages. How are you going to get over that gap? In such a situation, you need an "interpreter", someone who can understand both languages and do some translation and bring the two parties closer together. You don't have to be that person because it's not your responsibility, but you could be that person if you genuinely wanted to help improve things.

When people appear to be unreasonable, there are usually a few possibilities to consider as to why:

Ignorance: For whatever reason, they lack knowledge and they don't know what they don't know. Being very ill-informed, they make unreasonable judgments and decisions.

Confusion: People easily get confused when they have poor critical reasoning skills and don't know how to assess objectively and analyze logically. This leads them to fall victim to bias, formulate faulty beliefs, draw incorrect conclusions, and miscalculate consequences.

Psychology: There are many psychological, mainly emotional, issues that can erode or undermine people's executive functioning, which leads them to make irrational judgments and decisions.

When you really understand how ignorance, confusion, and psychological issues operate in the mind, you'd be much less inclined to call anyone "unreasonable". It's more accurate to say that you haven't understood their reasoning process, probably because it's too different from yours.

For example: It's not unreasonable to believe the sky is blue when you are ignorant of the science that produces the blue effect. It's not unreasonable to be biased and believe the world is terrible and unsafe when you've repeatedly been the victim of discrimination or hate. It's not unreasonable to feel paranoid, suspicious, and easy to anger when your trust has been betrayed one too many times.

It's very difficult to know the best way to respond to people when you don't understand them at all, when you don't see how their negative behavior is actually a reasonable response, as determined from their perspective of reality. In other words, no matter what kind of relationship conflict you encounter, the best strategy for resolving it always begins with empathy. Do you understand her point-of-view? Do you understand how she thinks? Do you understand how she feels, where her feelings come from, and how her feelings inform her behavior? If you just write someone off as fundamentally bad because that's easier for you, then you've written yourself into a dead end.

Many people are under the misapprehension that empathy is about being "soft" or "weak". Yes, empathy requires you to feel what others feel, so in that sense, it makes you vulnerable to influence. However, empathy serves a larger purpose in helping you gather essential knowledge about feelings and emotions, how they motivate people, and how to mitigate their destructiveness. People who are only able to feel what others feel but just get overwhelmed rather than put the information to good use actually suffer from lack of boundaries, not an excess of empathy.

Imagine a therapist dealing with a client who is venting and raging and getting verbally abusive. How do you think the therapist should respond? Should they start shouting and cursing in retaliation? No, because that would only raise the emotional temperature and make the situation worse. The therapist remains calm and objective and tries to get to the bottom of the feelings/emotions in order to help the client understand them better.

You are not a therapist, so you shouldn't try to act like one. But you are capable of calm and objectivity when faced with people who are acting out their ignorance, confusion, and/or emotional issues. When you've set proper boundaries, you would know that their behavior is not really about you, so you wouldn't take it personally. Being calm, objective, and open to feeling what they are feeling without getting overwhelmed by it, you are in a better position to understand the feelings and emotions at play in the situation. Then, you can think of ways to address them reasonably rather than react back unreasonably. This is what it means to have good emotional intelligence in relationships.

You're not friends with her, so maybe you don't have the opportunity to learn about why she's this way. But, through empathy, even when you don't have all the sordid details about her past, you can at least still see her as human, suffering, and in need of compassion, just like everyone else. If she could control herself, she would, but she obviously can't. Wouldn't you hope for compassion in the event you lost control of yourself and acted out of fear or helplessness? Instead of taking her behavior at face value and getting all judgmental in labeling her your enemy, try to respond strategically to the feelings and emotions that motivate her negative behavior. In this way, you de-escalate, remove some of the heat, and actively create a healthier space for cooler heads to prevail.

You're not there for her mental problems. You're just there to do a job. It's not your company, so it's not your role to care about its future. You don't owe loyalty to someone who isn't loyal to you. Yes, looking for a better workplace is probably a good idea for your mental health. But until then, the best you can do is try to discuss work problems respectfully, empathetically, and tactfully. Keep things completely professional by focusing only on work issues, and stay out of her way otherwise. If she's unwilling or unable to change anything, set and maintain your personal boundaries through very assertive communication, and do what is minimally required of you for the job. If you have the desire and capability to help your colleagues, get their consent to speak on their behalf as you deem necessary.

#infj #infj relationships #anger #blame #judgmental #assertiveness #boundaries #empathy #social skills #emotional intelligence #workplace #career #ask

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e-wills-afterhours · 2 years

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Affairs Of The Heart, Chapter 5

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

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Hiccup's mind was reeling, both a roiling mass of thoughts and a frozen well of disbelief. His fingers trembled with joy and fury, gripping Astrid's arms, indecisive whether to push her away or pull her closer.

Her lips were agony pressed against his; soft and sweet but imbued with a venom to kill the last vestiges of his common sense. For two years, he wanted to taste her kiss again; he craved it for far too long. As an unspoken and desperate hope was finally realized, the bile rose in his throat, bubbling up as a sickening reminder of how wrong it was.

A nauseous rage rippled through him. The pads of his fingers pressed into her skin with a bruising force. He tore her away from him with a gasp of relief and guilty disappointment. He could breathe again, and he hated that. He despised himself more for resenting the parting of their lips.

"No." He muttered, staring at their feet: three boots and one prosthesis, caked with black sand. "No!" he repeated, trying to convince both of them they did not want it. Or, at the very least, they did not want to want it.

Astrid tried to reach for him, to touch his face with a tenderness that might shatter him. "Hiccup-"

"No!" He jerked away, scowling; and the proud and fierce Astrid Hofferson balked. Anger swelled inside him, feeding off the renewed energy of suppressed heartache working its way to the surface, two years too late. "You don't get to do that, acting now like you need me!"

Astrid reached up to stroke the end of her braid: a mindless habit whenever she needed something to busy anxious hands.

"I never stopped caring," she replied evenly. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. That's why all this hurts."

Hiccup could not imagine she understood the extent of the pain she had inflicted on him, and was continuing to inflict right there, on that beach. How laughable it was, then, that she claimed to be suffering too.

He scoffed, squaring his jaw. "Then, why now? Why here, when there is nothing either of us can do to fix it? You're going to marry Stefnir! So what is it about stringing me along that is so damn appealing?"

There was concentrated blame in her eyes, directed at him, as if he was the cause of everything. "I can't seem to get over you! That's my problem–mine, as much as it is yours!"

Hiccup scoffed. She wanted to be both victim and perpetrator.

"Obviously it's my problem, since I can't ever seem to get away from you!" he snapped. "I've tried, then you kept coming around and making it impossible for me to get past this; to get past us–whatever we used to be! I'm tired, Astrid. Tired of not being anything more than your entertainment!"

"Is that what you really think I was doing?" she asked, eyes alight with outrage.

"Am I wrong?"

"I don't get any pleasure from this, Hiccup! Don't you think I would've stopped it if I could? But it's you; it's everything that is so infuriatingly you!"

"Oh, I'm sorry! Let me just become someone else to make your life simpler!" Hiccup snapped.

He did not know why they continued to shout and insult when it accomplished nothing. Before the lingering ghosts of old, mutual attraction came to light, there was nothing to debate, nothing to lament. Their misery was their own, and there was nothing to be gained between them. It would have been better to remain ignorant. There were no prizes to be won for their candor now.

"I don't want you to be anyone else, Hiccup! I just want..." Astrid smoothed her hands over her hair, glancing toward the night sky.

"What? Want what? Me, to be content with being your man on the side? To act like the past two years didn't happen?"

Astrid stared at him, her gaze unwavering as it bore into him with its disarming significance."You. Hiccup, I want you." Her voice was faint and small, barely above a whisper; defeated and vulnerable in a way Hiccup was not prepared to handle. Not when that tone was wrapped in those words. "I want you to myself," she added, "and I want you to come alive again, like you used to be. You're the one I want, not Stefnir."

And there it was. The final blow laid, in the admission that she wanted him.

Hiccup could not bear the weight of his unhappiness any longer. Two years of a meticulously crafted wall between himself and his feelings crumbled in an instant. Knowing Astrid's heart made everything impossibly worse, because there was no erasing it from his mind as they trudged down their diverging paths. She was unobtainable, wanting him while she was with her husband-to-be; and Hiccup, wanting her still while he was with his future wife, whomever that happened to be. Looks of longing would always pass between them, around Berk and in the Great Hall; but they would go home to other people with the knowledge someone else was touching the very skin their fingers yearned for.

His chest tightened. For the first time in a while, he was truly vulnerable, and Astrid could destroy him totally if she desired it.

"Don't," he pleaded, voice breaking. He stepped back, shaking his head with an extended hand to keep her at bay.

"This whole thing is a mess I don't know how to un-complicate," Astrid took a step forward, advancing on him while he was falling apart.

He was unable to do anything but stare into those plaintive blue eyes, gorgeous and damning. Her hand slid over his shoulder, down the ridge of his collarbone to his chest, stinging him with its unnecessary affection.

"Don't," he practically choked, seizing her wrist to stop its lethal descent.

"I should do what's expected of me and be happy with Stefnir. I've really tried, you know. I don't have much of a choice. It was supposed to be easy for me because doing what's expected is all I've ever done, but...I just can't..." She hesitated, caught on her words. The entire world seemed to stop spinning for them. "I just can't seem to fall out of love with you."

The proverbial coil in Hiccup's stomach snapped. He could not speak; he had no more words to give. He was transfixed by his hand on her arm, and her hand on his chest. It was the first contact between them in a long while that was not repulsive, but no other touch could compare to how badly it hurt.

Astrid's other hand caressed his cheek, and his eyes fluttered closed as her thumb brushed over his skin. He supposed it was meant to be comforting, like the way she swept her searing fingertips over the angles of his face, coming to rest feather-light on his chin. She traced the old scar there. Then, that same torturous hand was gliding around to the back of his head, through his hair, with an almost demanding reassurance. Feel better, it insisted; be okay with this.

He surrendered to her, leaning forward as her touch urged him to do, until his forehead was against hers. Everything in him felt limp and expended, so he relied on the support from the same person who had beaten him down until he had no fight left. He released her wrist and placed his hand on her lower back, wanting her closer to him, for he had no more strength to push her away. He wanted to give in and be consumed by the fire.

She had always made him so woefully pathetic.

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Astrid's breath hitched when Hiccup guided her body up against him. She had forgotten how gentle he could be, especially when he had been fuming at her only moments before.

There had been a change in him–a relenting that she had not anticipated: an instant failing of his temper. She felt the tension evaporate from his body, morphing into palpable defeat. She had not intended for things to unfold that way. She had only wanted to talk to him, to explain; but then Hiccup's lips had been as wonderful as she imagined they would be, even two years later.

She should not have kissed him and she knew it.

The sluice gate opened to release a torrent she was not sure either one of them could stop now. He had thought she was toying with him; that she somehow liked all those days enduring his cool indifference and the melancholy of braiding his hair. He did not understand that it was an addiction, that she was compelled to be near him by something stronger than herself. If her presence was painful for him, then his was equally as painful for her. She could not keep herself from placing her hand on the glowing iron, burned by the fact that she was getting married ,and it was not to Hiccup. But it should have been, though it was never supposed to be.

Her hands roamed over him, exploring what was familiar and strange: the maturing form of the boyish frame she once knew well. His back and shoulders were broader, more defined, from riding dragons and a heavy blacksmith's hammer. He was solid beneath his tunic like she never would have guessed. He was still tall and lanky like the boy she initially fell for, but with the new, subtle musculature of the man she fiercely wanted. He was Hiccup, with all the unique allure of his inelegant awkwardness that kept her tethered, spinning helpless in his gravity.

She sighed, pressing her forehead against his. He withdrew slightly, but she cradled his head and held him in distressing proximity. She could sense his discomfort, see the clenching of his jaw, and feel the reluctance in his touch.

"Why?" he murmured, frayed. "Why are you doing this to me?"

"You know why," was her unsatisfactory reply; but she had already said it once: four letters of emotional condemnation. She would not explain herself a second time.

Their noses brushed as they shared a breath, hot, moist, and teeming with the energy of a gathering storm. Astrid could smell him: a combination of soot from the forge, leather, and the salt of the sea breeze that permeated everything around them.

"Hiccup," she whispered, imploring him for an equal response she had no right to ask of him.

Her head tilted, seeking the faintest contact that was jarring to the core as her upper lip skimmed across his. She felt every nerve, every fiber, thrumming with a need for another taste of him. Just one more shot.

"We shouldn't do this," he said, though his words held no real conviction. She could feel the enunciation of his words as their mouths hovered so close that the space between them was negligible. "We shouldn't..."

Then everything that was prudent and wise was lost in the way their lips melded together, firm and desperate. There was a rush of satisfaction, and Astrid hoped he felt it too; because that kiss, mutually sought, was incomparable to any other sense of fulfillment she had ever known.

She cupped his face in her hands, feeling the warmth of his skin in her palms like a promise that he would stay; that he would not recoil again.

He was kissing her back, slow and uncertain. With a conceited thrill, she realized no one else knew his lips as she did; and with a wave of shame, she knew he could not claim the same exclusivity. So, she kissed him harder, more fervently; crushing their mouths together in the hopes it would erase any traces of Stefnir that lingered there. She reveled in giving Hiccup what should've been his.

At that point, with boundaries crossed, it did not matter what was supposed to have been. After all, their people were never meant to live with dragons. Astrid was not supposed to have noticed the scrawny, fumbling boy who was never going to amount to anything great. She was always supposed to marry Stefnir–that had been decided long ago; and she should have never found a distraction from that duty to her family. But Hiccup had changed the course of everything that ought to have been, setting a new trajectory that wrested her violently from the perfect plan that had been laid out for her life. Just like that, he was at the center of everything. What was supposed to be was smothered to death by what actually was: his lips moving against her own.

She captured his bottom lip when breathing was imminent, drawing back with a parting suckle that she never felt Stefnir deserved. But he probably did. He was her intended, and he deserved it in a way Hiccup did not. Yet, there she stood miles from home, wrapped up in the attention of a man she could never be with like it was the last time. It could very well be the last time, if one of them managed to come to their senses.

It really needed to be the last time, for their sanity, for their dignity; and for the truth that it was never going to go anywhere but face-first into the dirt.

But, Odin help her. Astrid would never let it be the last time.

Hiccup gazed at her with a conflicted desire, breathing a little too heavily to be alright with any of it. His hand was still insecure and conspicuous on her back. He held her close to him, but not close enough.

She inched forward, feeling the rapturous guilt as her body fit against his with a flawlessness that insulted her scruples. Hiccup shuddered–or maybe she did–and his arms came around her in the death throes of his reservations. Stefnir faded into a distant second thought that was nearly imperceptible as Hiccup initiated another, more assured kiss.

Her hand ran through his hair; soft russet between her fingers that were no longer encumbered by false pretenses. Her other hand returned to his chest, gripping his tunic because it was the least dangerous thing she could do with it.

Somehow, she thought she could take a breath with their lips still connected, but Hiccup persisted; and everything became open-mouthed and ragged gasps. Suddenly, they had bounded into new territory, hot and urgent–and further than she had ever gone with Stefnir. The kiss was terrifying and exciting, wonderful and wrong. She leaned into Hiccup, coming up on her toes just as his knees buckled. They fell, and Hiccup caught himself. He was half-sitting, half-lying, propped up by one hand as Astrid landed in his lap, straddling him on the damp, black sand. Their position was ridiculous and compromising; perfectly shameless as if they had coordinated it.

And they did not stop. Not even a moment's pause to collect themselves.

She yanked on his clothes, dragging him up to meet her by fistfuls of green tunic. Two years of trying to behave, of trying to move on like a couple of mature adults, was wasted effort now. They had been contents under pressure, fated to explode in either screaming or colliding passions; or both, as it so happened.

Their kiss was clumsy and aggressive, too much grazing of teeth. Then Astrid found his tongue, coaxing it with a timid flick of her own. She melted into him when he responded in kind. A whimper escaped her and Hiccup sat up straighter, tightening his grip on her arms. His hold was possessive and it made her dizzy. She battled him, brushing her tongue against his in a bid for dominance; because they were equally matched in foolish desire and brazen stupidity.

His hands traveled down her arms with deliberate pressure, truly feeling and learning her. Astrid was too aware of his fingers and his blacksmith's callouses. Her arms were innocent expanses of flesh, but every bit of skin Hiccup touched became an erogenous zone. And they were heat: two blazing entities suffocating as they burned up all the air between them.

She was stroking him, rubbing over his chest like she was trying to ignite more sparks; stir up more friction. There would be nothing left of those pitiful, anguished teens. What would emerge from their ashes was anyone's guess. Maybe something beautiful, but likely something more tragic. The present was all Astrid could think about; not tomorrow or the next day. Not the regret, nor the mortification; not the queasiness in her stomach whenever she looked at Hiccup as she hung on Stefnir like the dutiful bride.

With much difficulty, Astrid wrenched her mouth from his. She stared into his eyes, so dark in the silver light of the evening. They both were breathless.

She could not bear to think about the humiliation to come; and though Hiccup was the only other person who would know, it was disconcerting because it was him. He mattered; what he thought, what he felt. Would he blame her? Hate her? Resent her for the heavier load they now had to carry?

"Hiccup," she murmured, moist lips brushing his cheek, "I shouldn't have...I'm sorry." Because an apology was in order, though she could not pinpoint one thing. She was sorry for all of it.

Yes, a little remorse was called for as she ground her hips down into his lap.

"This is wrong," he insisted, grasping her waist as her body rolled beneath his hands.

"I know, I know." She tilted her head back with a frustrated, hungry moan.

Hiccup closed his eyes, leaning forward until his head rested just beneath her collarbone, and his face was flirting with the valley of her breasts. She held him there, embracing him and gazing up at the unblinking, voyeuristic stars. He held onto her hips, mindful of the spikes of her skirt. She moved over him, dragging woolen leggings over leather.

"We have to stop this," he rasped, contrary to the way he pulled her closer. He mapped her contours as she rocked their lower bodies together.

Astrid wanted the fabric barriers gone. She wanted to feel the warmth of his fingertips gliding over her thighs; and his breath tickling her breasts. But that would kill them. If nothing else, that surely would.

"Hiccup, I don't want to stop," she admitted.

He had to do it. As unfair as it was, another burden was on him. Astrid could not be the one to end their tryst; to choose to submit to her conscience and be faithful to Stefnir. She had indulged too much; drank too greedily from the forbidden. Hiccup had to be the responsible one that pushed her away, rebuffing her advances for the sake of their mutual sanity.

He glanced up at her, and she captured his lips. There was no way she could not kiss him. She was not strong enough to resist him anymore.

"This won't go anywhere," he murmured between fervent pecks. "This...we're only doing more damage."

Astrid knew that, but she could not bring herself to care as much as she should. Astrid moaned against his thin lips, absorbing every last bit of pleasure from their indiscretion. She could feel his excitement, swollen and hard, against her inner thigh. The awareness of his arousal turned her blood to fire.

"Tell me to stop," she pleaded. "Hiccup, you have to tell me-"

A firm, lengthy kiss interrupted her. It was scalding.

"I won't," he told her. "I can't."

"Why?" Their mouths ghosted over one another, teasing that time.

"Because I can't seem to fall out of love with you, either." He answered.

Astrid sighed, tasting and savoring the words in the breath they shared.

"Because I'm an idiot," he added.

"Hiccup..."

She groped at his belt, absent of any higher thought as the buckle clinked enticingly.

Then Toothless warbled, and it snapped Hiccup out of his trance. His brow knitted together over half-lidded eyes, and Astrid felt his caresses falter. His eyes flickered down to her staggering attempt to undress him; and there was the shameful rush she had been waiting for: the inevitable result of throwing prudence to the wind.

"You have to get off of me," Hiccup said, common sense returning with a vengeance. "Y-you have to-"

Astrid scrambled off his lap, covering her mouth to stifle the sudden urge to vomit. She could not look at him, staring out at the black waves glimmering so benign in the moonlight. Their last kiss was still tingling on her lips, beseeching for more. She despised herself for it. What had transpired between them, so desperate and brief, was over. All that remained in the aftermath was embarrassment and the threat of bitterness to follow.

"I'm sorry." Her throat was dry and her voice, hoarse. She swallowed hard and strode toward Stormfly, eyes downcast.

She was going to flee that beach and hurry home to Stefnir. She would never go near Hiccup again; she would spend the rest of her life as the loyal wife Stefnir expected her to be. No more blurred lines, overstepped boundaries, or challenges to convention.

"Stop," Hiccup said gently, and it was a request. Long fingers encircled her wrist with the sweetest grip. "Wait."

Astrid sighed. Turning back to him, she willed herself to hold it together; to retain some self-respect. She was the instigator, and she knew it. He knew it. She had propelled them into calamity, trying to step back when it became too real, making an already horrendous situation more complicated because she was selfish.

"I'll go back to Stefnir," she declared. "I'll leave you alone. I won't speak of this to anyone. You can just-"

Hiccup kissed her, and she wanted to disappear, closing her eyes and grimacing. He had shook his head while she spoke, then boldly claimed her lips to add further insult to reason; and it was a deplorable thing, because she could only relish in it in spite of her reservations.

"I don't want that and neither do you," he replied, sounding annoyed, fed up with her hurtful vacillating.

Astrid did not know where he had found the sudden confidence to speak for them both, even if it was true.

She stepped back from him into the open arms of her renewed sense of responsibility, because it was safe there. Everything was predictable, and everything was simpler.

She mounted Stormfly, tucking her hair behind her ears with trembling fingers.

"I'm going back to Berk. No one knows I left. They'll be looking for me." She blurted out before Hiccup could argue.

She was going back to Stefnir and her parents; back to the Astrid that did as she was told: the girl that everyone could depend on. Her word was her bond and she did not give in to unrealistic fantasies.

"Whatever this is, Astrid, I'm not leaving it here."

A shrinking, but audacious part of her was glad he was so determined. That whisper of temptation wanted her to stay on Dragon Island and find out just how far they were willing to go, where they would stop, and if they could truly dissolve two years of a sullied relationship.

But she nudged her dragon with her heels, retreating into the night sky and leaving Hiccup where he stood.

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Stormfly returned to her stall with very little guidance. She flapped her wings and cocked her head to the side, considering Astrid with curious yellow eyes. Astrid tried not to look at Stormfly. Her dragon did not need more reason to fret over something beyond her capacity to understand.

"Good girl. Thanks for the flight," Astrid cooed, stroking Stormfly's snout before leaving the stables.

If she was lucky, she could make it to her bedroom without any further interactions. She needed to collect her thoughts and sort through all of the indecent rubbish without Stefnir or her parents adding to the pile.

But that would have been too easy; the kind of good fortune of someone actually deserving of it.

Footsteps and the eager jangling of armor captured her attention like a skittish rabbit in a snare trap. She turned around with swelling dread, recognizing that particular melody of rattling metal. She knew well the towering, chiseled frame before her eyes even met his face.

Stefnir hurried toward her, alight at the sight of her. He was impressive in the interplay of bright moonlight and shadow, flashing off his armor and defining his wealth of muscle. She wiped her sweaty palms on her tunic with a wavering smile she hoped was convincing in the darkness.

"You weren't at dinner," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "I was beginning to wonder where you'd gone."

He hugged her and she tensed, fingers curled and rigid above his shoulders. Her hands trembled and she settled for patting his back awkwardly, uncertain what feelings might be betrayed while holding him.

"I was out flying," she replied, wiggling out of his embrace without being too conspicuous. A tender hand on his chest was affectionate enough, but she withdrew it almost instantly. Her expression was placid though her insides squirmed.

"Where to?" he asked, rubbing her arms like he always did-which suddenly felt like a foreign and unwelcome contact. She wished he did not want to feel her skin. His hands were too large and assertive in a way she previously had not noticed.

"Just...around. I don't know. I wasn't paying attention." She was trying not to sound too perturbed.

His touch repulsed her more than it should. For the first time, she had another caress to compare it with.

"You should tell me before you just up and leave like that," Stefnir told her with a small, exasperated smile much too similar to a parent's mild criticism.

"I didn't realize I needed an escort."

She was a dragon rider, damn it. She'd been pioneering dangerous stunts on her Nadder before Stefnir had even named his Monstrous Nightmare.

"As your future husband, don't you think I deserve to know these things?" He tugged at the end of her braid, childishly emphatic, as if she could not understand his meaning otherwise.

"Maybe if you believe I'm doing something duplicitous?"

Stefnir chuckled, gripping her waist and pulling her flush against him. She bristled everywhere their bodies met as he leaned in.

"I know you better than that," he whispered.

He kissed her and she screwed her eyes shut, lips tightly pursed beneath his. Her mouth felt besieged, tender and abused from earlier. She wanted to shove him away, no longer accepting those thicker, rougher lips.

His hand snaked beneath her braid to the nape of her neck, holding her where she stood, frozen in place by her family's inescapable commitment to his.

Sacrificing her own desires for reputation and honor was the Hofferson way.

As Stefnir held her, a dragon flew overhead, camouflaged against the black of night like only one species she knew of. And it was all she could do to keep from screaming.

#hiccstrid fic #hicctsird #affairs au #because I couldn't leave y'all on chapter 4's cliffhanger

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sabineelectricheart · 4 months

Text

Dining Out in December

Summary: Bryce and Daphne go for a night out, but the venue is too busy. He lies and threatens their way in.

Rating: K+ - Suitable for more mature childen, 9 years and older, with minor action violence without serious injury. May contain mild coarse language. Should not contain any adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: Don’t bully service industry workers. It’s not worth it. Ask for the owner, they’re the one to bully.

If there is one thing that Daphne Anderson really hated, this thing was a fucking scene. It might be because of her discrete demeanour, or some kind of pride that she keeps in being above petty disputes, but if one ever wants to shame or vex her, it is just a matter of screaming in her near vicinity, attracting everyone’s attention.

Unfortunately, her boyfriend does not have the same outlook.

"Listen, dickhead, this is my dad's venue! I'm on that fucking list!" He shouts at the bouncer.

It is late December and, even in a college town like Sugardale, people want to go out for a nice dinner. The venues are full and there is no conniption that could change it.

God, he’s such a Karen! She thinks, feeling the weight of the collective gaze coming from the line behind them, hoping no-one had the idea of filming them yet.

Bryce felt no such shame. It is reasonable to assume that, after so many years dealing with Trish meltdowns, he would have had his fill of them for all of his natural life. However, things turn out to play in the opposite manner, as he seems to have built a natural defence against embarrassment. The man has no shame, nor self-control, ready to fight anyone and anything, with screaming and punching alike.

"Yes, sir, I understand that you are.” The man tries to placate him, but his voice communicated profound irritation. “The problem is that your date is not."

Daphne stood behind her boyfriend, watching his shoulders rise with barely-suppressed rage. She knew this look from experience, and she knew it was not a good omen. Something bad was going to happen if she does not put a stop to it.

"It's okay, baby. We can just go somewhere else? Maybe?" She offers.

Her nervous tone does not reach his ears, however. Nor did he notice the way she had slipped around to rub up his chest soothingly.

His eyes remained on the working man, dark with a heavy scowl. "This is my wife, sir. If I'm on the list, she's on the fucking list."

The guy went to object but Bryce cut him off, voice holding an aura of arrogance once he had found a new approach.

"You do realize that you work for me, right? It would be a shame if I called my father down here to make a scene, especially if I tell him his darling daughter-in-law was disrespected in such a manner." He leaned forward for affect, scrunching his eyes while his head tilt in its signature threatening way. "With one phone call, I could get you and the rest of this entire lousy staff fired, and you know what’s going to happen with your miserable little lives then. Check again, her name's on the list."

Behind him, Daphne is face-palming. Not only they are most certainly not married, and it will be certainly a cold day in Hell when Mr. Montgomery thinks of her in any terms even slightly resemblant of ‘darling daughter-in-law’, none of the involved would ever think of firing this amount of people from a profitable business endeavour on a whim.

He could sense her profound discomfort, and maybe that is why he does not turn around for her until after the employee decided that, “Wait! You know what? She actually is on the list. My bad. This way, sir, ma’am.”

Bryce smirked, huffing in a way that clearly stated, Yeah, I thought so. He turned to his fake wife for the night, meeting her stern expression and broke out in a self-satisfied grin that destroyed her facade.

She should not indulge him in this behaviour but, well, she must admit it feels nice being treated with respect for a change. Besides, he looks kind of cute after destroying service industry workers’ morale, nefarious as this sounds.

"C'mon, mama." He said, reaching for her.

Daphne accepted with little more than a head shake, letting his possessive arm firmly lead her through the posh establishment with a firm hand to the small of her back. When they were seated, she smiled widely at him as he sat down opposite her.

He glanced up nervously. She is probably going to let him have it, and she is merciless about it. Her lower-class sensibilities do not take kindly for him bullying the denizens of the town, regardless of his intent.

"So, I'm your wife now?" She whispered it, eyes scrunched up with the force of her smile.

This surprised him. She is not making fun of him, properly, even if she does find the whole situation amusing. Sensing that, he laughed quietly, pushing his slight embarrassment down in with a bon vivant act.

"You are. Or, at least, you will be." He answered, projecting an enviable certainty.

He winked and she faltered, sitting back in her chair to look at him with eyes wide in surprise. Her heavy blush and the way she teethed at her bottom lip told the young blond man absolutely everything he needed to know. It is his turn to be merciless.

"So..." He paused, a mischievous glint to his beautiful green eyes that only added to her fluster. "What is Mrs. Montgomery in the mood for tonight? Besides me, obviously."

Bryce considered it his chance to vex his girlfriend, and he seized it the best that he could.

He made a point to use that “Mrs. Montgomery” title for the rest of the evening, at any grammatical opportunity. He called Daphne his wife so many times that, by the end of the night, she almost believed him.

What she did not know, however, is just how much he meant it when he said that, in whatever he was concerned, she would really harbour that surname someday, and someday soon. The ring was practically burning a hole in his pocket, especially after that whole venue fiasco.

Now Bryce was just waiting for the right time. He already knew her answer.

*_*_*_*_*

College Craze Masterlist

#college craze #Bryce Montgomery

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thefoxandthepenguine · 2 years

Text

What if…? (Part 4)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: AU. You missed your chance with Wanda and now she is marrying someone else. What if…you are given a second chance to make things right?

Genre/Warnings: Fluff/Angst, a few curse words, cheating, sexual implications, flirting and some kind of manipulation. Let me know if I miss anything.

Word count: 3.4k

a/n: Well what can I say? I hope I've done justice to this chapter. Again, a big thank you to my friend for being my beta reader. Good reading and lemme know what you think by commenting, reblogging or leaving me an ask! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Part 4 - So Close

“So, are you two getting back together now?”

You know this voice all too well.

Taking a deep breath and suppressing the urge to flip under irritation, you turn around and glare at the person standing right in front of you－

It is Jessie.

“What do you want?” You demand through gritted teeth, your palm hurts as you clench your fist a bit too hard under the bar table.

“Why all the hatred, Y/N? I’m just trying to be a good old friend and say hi.” Jessie raises her eyebrows with an affectation of surprise.

Feelings of rage sear through you as you continue to look at Jessie’s face. “Fuck off.”

“What if I don’t?”

You spring to your feet and you are this close to punching Jessie in her face. This close－

Until Wanda wraps her palm over your fist, her thumb tracing small and soothing circles over your skin lightly.

The touch calms you down magically and you turn around to see Wanda smiling softly at you while giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Don’t let her ruin the night, not again.”

“That’s rude! I’ve done nothing.” Jessie puts on a hurt expression, gasping as she covers her mouth with her palm.

You turn back to Jessie, you are still simmering with resentment as your eyes ablaze with anger. You are about to say something when Wanda steps in the way between Jessie and you, her hand still holding yours behind her back.

“Now back off before I make you.”

You cannot quite see Wanda’s expression from behind and her voice is barely audible above the clamour of the music. Yet you catch Jessie shuddering uncomfortably when Wanda tilts her head slightly to the side. You can tell Jessie is losing her composure as she averts her eyes from Wanda’s faces and draws back subconsciously.

The tension is almost palpable.

That’s when an unfamiliar loud voice cuts through the silence, “good evening, ladies.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you see a man walk towards you and finally stop next to Jessie. He looks familiar yet you cannot really recall his name.

“Good evening Thomas,” Wanda greets him coolly.

Oh yes right. Thomas, the football team captain.

As if Thomas cannot discern a certain coldness in Wanda’s greeting, he casts a dopey grin in your direction and asks, “are y’all having a nice time?”

You almost roll your eyes at the meathead.

Really? Couldn’t he sense the atmosphere already crackling with tension?

But still, you put on a cheesy grin on your face and chuckle dryly.

Jessie casts a sidelong glance at both Wanda and you before linking her arms with Thomas. “Yeah, we’re just having a small friendly chat. Now let’s go.”

Thomas seems to be taken aback when he is dragged away by Jessie the next second. He turns around to look at your direction for one last time before blending in with the crowd.

“He’s dumb,” you cannot help but comment with a brief shake of the head when they are gone.

“And she’s a bitch. What a perfect match.”

Both of you have a fit of the giggles at the words.

And you just realize Wanda is still holding your hand this whole time.

You are grateful for being left in peace since Jessie has left with Thomas.

The boys are all pretty drunk, exploding into drunken laughter from time to time across the hall whereas the girls are all busy chatting and dancing on the dance floor.

No one seems to have noticed Wanda and you and you couldn’t really have asked for more.

You sit around in the back corner, shooting the breeze with Wanda until both of your glasses are empty.

Looking over at the bar, you are thinking of getting yourself another round when Jessie bursts out guffawing with Thomas at the bar, attracting the attention of people around them.

You are looking away when you suddenly catch Thomas shooting you a sideways glance. He shifts his gaze from your face awkwardly and knocks his glass of beer back when you catch him staring.

And something comes to you in a flash of inspiration.

“Wanda?”

Wanda is a little tipsy after having a few glasses of beer, a pink flush spreads over her cheeks as she looks at you with those big puppy dog eyes. “Yeah?”

You think your heart skips a beat as you beckon Wanda to lean closer.

“What?”

“Just come here.”

Wanda giggles before leaning forwards to you, heat radiating from her body as she presses herself against your arm.

You swallow dryly before whispering something into Wanda’s ears.

You ask after you are done sharing your plan, “what do you think?”

“You’re terrible.” Wanda shakes her head slightly, yet there is a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

You waggle your brows and ask, “so, Wanda Maximoff, can I get you a drink?”

“Now, Y/N Y/L/N, I thought you’d never ask.”

You exchange a smirk with Wanda before heading to the bar.

You lean against the bar with Wanda.

Your gaze drifts to Thomas from time to time, making sure he catches you staring before looking back to Wanda again.

You do that purposefully for a few times and already find Thomas watching you incessantly even when he is talking to Jessie.

Wanda has her back to Thomas so she cannot really tell what is going on. “Is he coming?”

“Nah, he’s drooling but he’s not moving. God he’s such a chicken.” You take a sip of your martini and groan in exasperation.

“So what do we do?”

“We push his button,” you mumble under your breath and place the martini glass on the table, “take the olive, Wanda.”

“What? Why?” Wanda furrows her eyebrows in confusion.

“Just do it.”

Tentatively taking the olives from your glass, Wanda asks, “what’re you, oh－”

Wanda’s breath hitches as you cradle her wrist in your fingers, guiding the olive she is holding to your lips. Still holding your steady gaze, you tuck a strand of locks behind your ear when you bend towards her hand and dart your tongue out, slowly rolling the olive into your mouth.

Looking over at Thomas, you run your tongue over your lips, tasting the saltiness lingering over there.

And he is watching the show this whole time.

Slowly, you lean forward and whisper softly to Wanda’s ears, “he’s definitely buying it this time.”

You are pulling back when Wanda gently holds you still by your chin, her thumb running over your lower lips agonisingly slow and mutters, “here.”

You hold your breath as Wanda brings her hand up to herself and puts her lips on her thumb, licking the drop of wine there. “You may want to push it further just in case,” Wanda whispers.

That’s when you realize you are standing exceptionally close to each other. You can feel the warmth from Wanda’s chest coming up to meet yours as you inhale the mild scent of her flowery perfume. Drowning in that scent, you speak in a low mumble despite yourself, “I like this perfume.”

“I think so.” Both of you hold eye contact like that, neither of you leaning forward nor drawing back.

Until a voice cuts in, “hello again, ladies.”

You jump startled at the voice, your breath finally comes back to you as Wanda releases her grip from your chin instinctively. Turning around, you try your best to put on a smile as genuine as you can as you greet Thomas, “h-hey!”

“Can I get you girls a drink?” Thomas raises his brows and tilts his head towards your almost empty glass.

“Yeah.” You exchange a knowing glance with Wanda and try hard to bite back your smirk. Taking a sip at the newly mixed cocktail, you ask, “so where’s Jessie?”

“Well, um,” Thomas’s gaze drifts to the entrance unnaturally, “she’s using the bathroom.”

“Oh dear, if I were Jessie, I wouldn’t have left you here alone,” you shake your head in disapproval while brushing over Thomas’s arm, “you've been working out a lot more lately?”

“A bit, yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Cause you look stronger, more um, what should I say?” You tilt your head to the side and pretend to be struggling with the words for a while, your palm sliding over his chest before you continue, “more masculine than before.”

“Oh do I?” Thomas raises his brows and draws himself up to his full height, not even bothering to conceal the gloating look all over his face.

“Yup.” You try to stop your eyes from rolling to the back of your head as best you can as you force a smile on your face.

Yet that’s when Thomas leans closer to you, his hand sliding from your shoulder to the small of your back as he looks you up and down. “You don’t look bad yourself. I think black matches well with your skin tone.”

“T-thanks.” You swallow dryly and press your lips together into a thin line when you can literally feel Thomas’s hand sliding down towards the ridge of your hips. The touch of his fingers over your bare back prickles your skin with goosebumps.

God you hate yourself for wearing a backless dress and coming up with such a dumb idea so much.

You are shifting your weight uncomfortably when all of a sudden Wanda grabs Thomas’s tie and quickly spins them around. He is already pinned between the bar and Wanda before you know it.

“We’re actually looking for some fun tonight,” Wanda smooths and adjusts Thomas’s tie, pulling him closer to her face as she lowers her voice, “do you happen to have any good suggestions?”

Thomas swallows dryly as his gaze falls down on Wanda’s exposing cleavage under the deep V-neckline. “Do you wanna get out of here?” Thomas offers in her ear, one of his hands keeps running up her outer thigh, “we can have so much fun together.”

You swear you are going to dig his eyes out and chop off his hands.

No one can ever touch Wanda like that.

Immediately you grab Thomas’s wrist and place it around your waist as you stand next to him, stopping him from laying his hand on Wanda again. You ignore the warning glare from Wanda as you put an arm around him and rest your head over his shoulder, silently pulling him away from Wanda.

Thomas turns his head to look at you instinctively. You lock your gaze with him and caress his earlobe while purring into his ears, “we actually have a lot of fun ideas in our mind with you.”

“Like?”

You are trying to come up with something when Thomas leans in closer, breathing alcohol fumes all over you. You flinch when his lips almost touch the corner of your mouth－

“Ouch!” Thomas gasps in pain as Wanda grabs his face and forces him to turn his head away from you.

Wanda fakes a pout as she looks at Thomas, “what’s the fun in spoiling it? I’d rather show you when the three of us are alone.” Her index finger sliding from his jaw to the chest as she continues, “but what a pity you can’t join us tonight.”

“Wh-what? No! I’m free tonight! The whole night! I’ve nothing else to do.” Thomas shakes his head desperately.

“You came here with someone else.”

“Oh Jessie? No! She’s just-well, she can’t find a date so I was just doing her a favor.”

“Tsk tsk, bad boy will be punished for lying.” You whisper softly in his ear from beside.

Thomas shivers instinctively, “no! I swear I’d never turn you down for Jessie! She’s no match for you two－”

Wanda cuts him off by placing her index finger on his lips. “Shush. You know what’d be really sexy?” She speaks in a husky whisper to his other ear, “prove it.”

You think you swallow dryly at the same time as Thomas does.

“H-how to prove it?”

“I don’t know Thomas. You’re a big boy and it’s really up to you.” You move and stand next to Wanda, taking the beer away from his hand and setting it on the bar, “all I know is this doesn’t suit you at all. Too ordinary. You deserve something way better than this.”

And Wanda turns to the bartender and says, “one sex on the beach for him please.”

You whisper in Thomas’s ear before walking away with Wanda.

“Don’t keep us waiting for you big boy.”

You have just returned to your back corner when you hear the commotion. Desperately craning your neck and standing on your tiptoe, you try to get a better view of what exactly is happening.

“And bingo!”

You catch a glimpse of Jessie and Thomas standing in the middle of the crowd, clearly having a fight over something.

“What do you mean you have to go now?”

Jessie is definitely going to make a scene as you can hear her shrill voice getting louder and louder even above the clamour of the party, whereas Thomas is trying to look as inconspicuous as possible by saying something under his breath and dragging her to one side. Though his attempt is in vain as Jessie keeps shrugging him off angrily.

No.

They are not going anywhere.

You wink at Thomas and mouth “prove it” when you catch him looking in your direction, probably to check if you are still here or if you are watching everything. You can tell it gives him a confidence boost as he grips Jessie’s arm a bit tighter and the argument becomes heated as they are raising their voice now.

You catch Wanda staring at you from the corner of your eyes so you turn around and beam at her, “this is going to work! It’s getting intense－”

“I don’t like this.” Wanda’s brow darkened in anger.

“Wh-why?” You frown, not sure what Wanda is referring to.

This is exactly what was on your mind when you were coming up with the plan. Why is Wanda not happy about it now?

“I don’t like you doing that with him.”

And the next thing you know, Wanda drags you by your wrist and storms towards the exit.

“Wait! Wanda!” You try to call Wanda’s name along your way leaving the party but she does not seem to have heard you. “Why are we leaving now? We’ll miss the best part!”

“Why are we leaving?” Wanda scoffs and halts abruptly to stare at you, “for God’s sake can you not see the way he's looking at you? Do you really want him to kiss you?”

You remain silent and blink a few times at Wanda’s words.

Could it be what you are thinking right now?

Wanda’s brows snapped together in exasperation, “Well? Say something!”

“Are you jealous?” You blurt out.

“That’s not,” you notice Wanda swallows dryly at your words, “that’s not what I’m talking about.”

You walk closer to Wanda. Step by step. And she just keeps walking back until her back hits the wall and she gasps in surprise.

Tentatively, slowly, you take one final step forward, pressing your body against Wanda, her warm ragged breath tickling your face.

Your chest is heaving.

Both of your chest are heaving.

“Are you?” You mutter under your breath, your voice barely audible above the party music behind the walls.

But you are sure Wanda has heard you as she averts your gaze and keeps fidgeting the ring on her finger.

“I-I…”

That’s when your phone in your clutch bag chimes and the sound breaks the two of you away from each other. You clear your throat as you take the phone out, both of you avoiding eye contact with each other.

It is a video sent from Natasha, probably taken after you had left the party.

You tap on it and share the screen with Wanda.

Jessie and Thomas are already shouting angrily at each other at the beginning of the video.

“No one ever dumped me!” Jessie tries to slap Thomas’s face but he grabs her hand in the mid air and shoves her off.

“Well then this is the first time bitch!”

Thomas is trying to push his way through the crowd when Jessie screams all of a sudden and grabs a cup of beer from the nearest person and splashes it all over him.

And the crowd jeers and whistles when things become physical.

Well, more physical.

Both of you turn your head and look at each other when the video ends, and you cannot help bursting into laughter the next second.

“Oh my God! We did it!”

You widen your eyes when both of you exclaim in delight in sync.

“Yes! We did it!” Wanda puts her arms around you as she laughs heartily, “I can’t believe it!”

Your heart warms at Wanda’s laughter.

You would trade everything you have just for her smile.

You beam a smile, wrapping your arms around Wanda’s waist instinctively and the two of you just hug and jump and laugh like two idiots. It is after a while when you are finally out of breath from laughing too hard that both of you pull away slightly from each other.

“She definitely deserves it.” You giggle.

Wanda chuckles and rolls her eyes playfully. “And that dumbass as well.”

“Absolutely.”

Wanda beams warmly at you, and yet it gradually disappears as you hold your steady gaze, neither of you speaking another word.

There is something in the way Wanda looks at you.

You catch Wanda swallow drying as she glances down at your lips for a split second. But she looks back into your eyes instantly before you can say anything about it.

Maybe it is the tension in the air.

Maybe it is the alcohol.

Maybe it is you who want this.

And you cannot help but surge forward to place your lips against Wanda’s.

It is light.

It is soft.

It is brief.

You pull away the next second, your heart thumping in your ears. Both of you freeze and Wanda widens her eyes at you and you just panic.

Did you just steal a kiss from Wanda?

You try to apologize before you mess everything up again. “I-I’m sorry, I-oh my God, I shouldn’t have－”

“Are you done?” Wanda cuts you off.

“What?”

The next second, her slender fingers curl around the back of your neck and pull you in for a kiss.

And you reach for Wanda instantly.

It is slow and gentle in the beginning, both of you just press your lips lightly against each other. It is like you are tasting the water, too afraid to take it to another step.

You pull away slightly after a while, both of you panting as you press your forehead against each other, nuzzling Wanda’s nose with yours.

And you lean forward to capture her lips again.

It becomes something more. Her other hand comes up to frame your face and it is almost like Wanda is cradling you to hold you there.

And you cannot help but lean into Wanda, your fingertips grazing her cheeks as you deepen the kiss. It becomes passionate, both of you pull each other closer, pouring everything into that kiss.

This is your first time to kiss Wanda, and yet it just feels so good. So right.

But that’s when a ringtone cuts in.

And you know it is not from your phone.

You have a bad feeling when Wanda pulls away from you hesitantly. Both of you glance down at the screen instinctively and you think your stomach twitched at the caller ID.

It is Vision.

“I’m sorry Y/N. We, I-I should,” Wanda mutters under her breath and turns away to try to put some space between you.

You grab Wanda’s wrist to stop her from picking up the phone. “Please Wanda.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I have to－”

“Please,” you whisper pleadingly, “stay here with me.”

Wanda’s lips are quivering as she says, “I can’t.”

You cup Wanda’s cheeks with your hands and look into her eyes. “I love you.”

Wanda squeezes her eyes and shakes her head slightly. “Y/N…”

“I love you Wanda,” you confess softly as your thumb caresses her cheek gently, “I’ve been in love with you for so long. Would you please at least give me, and give us a chance?”

Tears run down her cheeks as Wanda leans into your palm. “Y/N, I-I can’t do this to Vision,” Wanda grabs your hands gently and pulls away from your grip, “I’m sorry Y/N.”

Wanda heads back to the party the next moment.

Tag:

@xxromanoffxx @username23345 @imdumbhi @reereeineedtopee @justyourwritter69 @cristin-rjd @when-wolves-howl @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hoeforwandanat @wandanatblogs @zairaaaa @peachbear88 @unknownalien3388 @theperfectlovestory

#wanda #wanda mcu #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch imagine #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #natasha romanoff #Spotify

187 notes · View notes

weenwrites · 3 years

Text

TFP Arcee, Ratchet, and Optimus Falling For a Human

Pairing - Romantic Category - Headcanons Trigger Warnings - None

Arcee

Y’know things were going just peachy and swell, the two of you are pretty good friends and then ONE DAY- ONE DAY, she just slowly begins to feel different about you, and around you.

Whenever she thinks of you, her spark begins to flutter.

That’s when she’s realized that.. She’s caught feelings for you.

Now the only reason she’d try and hide that she liked you was because she’s afraid that just because she’d let you get close and then loose you, like how she lost all her previous partners.

Not to mention, being human makes it easier for anyone to snuff your life.

Oh! We can’t forget the fact that Decepticons are trying to find out where you live so they can use you as leverage against the Autobots.

If the cons figured out that Arcee and you were more than just friends…

…

I’m sure you can piece the rest together.

So Arcee’s just going to suppress those feelings and try and move on.

If you want to start a relationship with her, you’re going to have to make the first moves, buddy.

It might take a while, but eventually with enough time and effort, the two of you could start a relationship!!!

Ratchet

Ratchet always liked you the best out of the other humans they had at the base.

Of course he found Raf to be nice, too, but there was something about you that made you appeal to him.

Then, over time his feelings about you changed.

There were subtle differences in the way he looked at you, the way he felt about you and such.

When he finally took notice, he tries to hide it because A. He’s a busy bot with an important job in the middle of a fragging war, B. He isn’t even sure it’d work out.

I mean, he’d be willing to put in the effort to start a relationship with you, but the question is… Would YOU be willing to put in the effort?

C. He’s never EVER heard of a romantic relationship between a Cybertronian and a Human before, he’s sure it can work out but… There’s better people out there for you than him.

So if you feel the same way and want to start a relationship, GO MAKE THE FIRST MOVE! What’re you waiting for?!

If you’re determined and patient, you’ll be able to start a relationship with him in time!!

Optimus

You and Optimus were pretty good friends, whenever he returned from a battle or from patrol, he always looked forward to talking with you.

Slowly but surely, he began to feel different about you… In a good way! In a good way.

When he realized he had fallen for you…

As much as he likes you, he’s sure that starting a relationship with you isn’t a good idea.

Don’t get him wrong!! You’re lovely and wonderful, it’s just if the cons figured out that he liked you, it’d make you an easy target.

He’d be absolutely gutted if you were killed by the cons, or ever captured and used as leverage against him and the other Autobots.

Optimus doesn’t want you to get hurt because of a war that he’s partaking in, a war that doesn’t have to do with you. Then, just because you loved him, you’d be captured by his greatest enemies to be used in a war that you’re not apart of and killed for no other reason than to bring him pain. You don’t deserve that, and you never will.

He’s also got his servos a bit too full, with the war that’s raging on and such. But he’d be willing to put in the time and effort to try and start a relationship with you.

You’re going to have to make the first moves, and work hard to try and establish a relationship with him. It’ll take a whole lot of time and effort but, it’ll be worth it in the end!!

#tfp imagines #tfp headcanons #tfp x reader #tfp arcee #arcee x reader #tfp ratchet #ratchet x reader #tfp optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #x reader #reader insert #self insert #weenwrites

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blzzrdstryr · 3 years

Note

Can I request where the reader tells jean that they should break up. What would be her reaction when the reader is been secretly seeing some else? Yes. I'm here for the angsty. Pls make the reader g/n

Wordcount: 1268

CW: Yandere, unhealthy relationships, confinement, infidelity, physical abuse

The thing about dating Jean is that she seems perfect - beautiful, smart, strong and wholly dedicated - most people would kill to have a lover like that. However most people don’t know how torturous relationship with her can be - she is indeed beautiful, smart, strong and wholly dedicated, just not to you, as Mondstadt comes before anything, her health, your love and the little of time you two spend together.

How many times has she cancelled or simply missed your dates, because she was too busy? How many times have you had to look after her like a nanny after a toddler, spending days just cooking and fetching the littlest things everytime she tried to cut her life short by simply overworking? How many times have you begged her to finally take a break and relax, and assign a part of her duties to someone else?

You love Jean, you truly do, but you can’t be with her, not after what she had done over the years of your relationship, not after what you had done over the last weeks. It was an anniversary, you see, a big event that you both planned to celebrate, meaning you preparing everything beforehand and Jean being present for once. You did your part of the deal, working for a week in the row, just to make everything perfect and she didn’t attend.

Mondstadt needed her more than you, it always does.

You lost it.

Maybe it was the resentment slowly piling up with every disservice, every miss on her part, maybe it was the rage and frustration you felt in that moment, a week of your efforts and dedication rendered pointless.

Logically you understood why Jean did it - Mondstadt is a nation, full of people who rely on their Grandmaster and the Knights, you’re just one person, a person who knows that Jean is also human, who can get sick and tired, who overworks herself just to provide everyone with security they deserve, but her silent dismissal always felt so scorching and so cold at the same time.

And so you did something unforgivable - you cheated on her. It was easy to find an eager person who would love and worship you the way you thought you deserved it. The sensations of other’s hands upon your skin, of a mouth licking and biting and kissing brought you a sick sense of satisfaction - it was revenge. In that moment everything was perfect, you felt the happiest, most cherished person to exist.

The next morning greeted you with a cold realization - you did something unforgivable. Jean, despite her dismissal of you, was still faithful and dedicated, yet unlike her you were weak, you allowed yourself to succumb to petty hurt and slept with someone else. A giant wave of shame and self-loathing crushed all over you, threatening to drown your entire being - not even once you felt this despicable and disgusting.

You swore that you won’t cheat on her ever again the same day, not being able to look Jean directly in the eyes for the rest of the week. This oath however was soon broken - the same cancelled date, her missing figure carving out another small hole in your heart. It felt good - to be the center of someone’s world even if it’s just only a night long crude and laughable falsehood.

That’s why you’re standing here now: in the middle of her office, as Jean scribes something in the scroll with a feather. She doesn’t lift her head, writing one line after another, her whole attention focused on the piece of parchment on the table. You stand right before her, patiently waiting when she will finish, and only when you realize that it’s not happening soon do you allow yourself to speak.

“Jean”, you start, voice small and weak - she still writes, yet now lifts her head a bit, stern blue eyes now shifting between you and scroll: “[First]”, she starts not caring to hide the annoyed tiredness in her tone, “could you come back later? I have a lot of work to do”.

You stifle a burst of anger at the familiar, dreaded words: “I am afraid I can’t. We really need to talk”.

This prompts her to finally put the feather aside, her eyes now focusing on you: “[First], I know it’s hard for you”, you raise eyebrows, a spark of hope of her finally understanding how broken your relationships are igniting with a new strength, only to be snuffed out by the next phrase: “But I am pretty sure that whatever you want to talk can wait. Mondstadt never waits”.

You’re disappointed, both in herself and you for the dismissal and unfounded longing; you’re not surprised. Looking how Jean returns to her words, you decide to cut out all the unnecessary build up and blurt out:

“We need to break up, we really do”, her face shifts in the same moment morphing from shock to disbelief to sadness, as she quickly stands up, almost knocking down her chair in the moment: “[First], I didn’t know that.. I.. I am sorry”.

She quickly strides to you, her hands calloused from the fencing cupping around yours: “I.. Do you want me to do something, [First], I didn’t know that you felt so badly. Let me fix that, please”, she sounds so pitiful and earnest, a prick of self-loathing stabbing your heart. You’re the one who should be asking for forgiveness.

“Stop, Jean”, you yank palms from her hold: “I need to tell you something”, she steps up closer to you and takes your hands by the wrist again, her breath suddenly fanning the face. You bare yourself, swallowing the guilt and the lump stuck in your throat down - she has to know, she deserves someone better than you: “I have cheated on you, several times”.

Jean’s hold suddenly turns from gentle to crushing, as she squeezes her palms into tight fists, knuckles turning white. You suppress both whimper and pained expression and look her straight in the eyes: “Yes, that’s right, that’s true. I slept behind your back”.

“[First]”, begging whisper.

“I cheated every time you cancelled our plans or dismissed me”.

Slap.

Jean’s hand leaves a burning, angry imprint on your face. You don’t flinch from pain, welcoming it instead - you deserved, after all of the things you did that is the least thing she could do to punish you. The impact leaves your head slightly dizzy, a coppery taste of blood blooming on your tongue - you must have bit yourself when she hit you. You swallow the taste down, continuing to speak:

“That’s why we need to end things, you are deserving of someone more than just a whorish, unfaithful cheater for the second half”.

She gives you a cold dead stare when you end your line and for the first time you feel a pang of fear, never has she looked so terrifying, so devoid of her usual gentle compassion: “Shut up”, she explodes, her hands cuffing yours again.

“Guards! Seize [First], now!”

A shocked noise escapes you, as a pair of knights burst into rooms, knocking you down: “What are you doing?!”, you shout at Jean, eyes wide as saucers. She gives you a look, a mix of rage and pity.

“Don’t worry [First]”, she adopts the patronizing tone, it’s jarring to say the least: “Someone must have poisoned or manipulated you, I know my [First] would never say or do such things. Don’t worry I’ll find the perpetrator and punish them”.

You can’t utter even a word of protest with a heavy hand around your face.

#Yandere Jean #Yandere Jean x reader #yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin #Female yandere #Yandere x reader #Yandere #Jean #Jean x reader #my writing

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ncssian · 3 years

Text

A Favor: Part Twenty-Six

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: writing this chapter was so much fun but reading it was a train wreck so you’ll just have to find out yourself whether it’s actually good or not. hurt/comfort ahead

***

Most of Nesta’s days lately are spent holed up in her basement apartment, either studying for her finals or preparing for her move—which means that whenever Cassian wants to see her, she has to haul ass all the way to the cabin to make time for him.

Like now, on the morning of her birthday, as she stands in her pajamas and slippers in the middle of Cassian’s home gym. Staring at the reason behind his urgent phone call telling her to come over.

“It’s a pole,” she says dumbly.

“Happy birthday,” he says, looking proud of himself. “Consider it an incentive to move in faster, okay?”

“It’s a pole,” she repeats. Tall and gleaming, it stands in front of the wall of mirrors away from most of the workout equipment. “You installed a pole?”

The gift itself isn’t that surprising—Cassian could afford an entire pole dancing studio if he wanted to. What surprises her is that it’s installed here, in Cassian’s personal space. The gym is to Cassian what the reading nook is to Nesta, if not even more sacred. Nesta rarely enters it, but now… he’s extending a blatant invitation into his space.

“I know you already take classes with Gwyn and Emerie,” Cassian is saying, “but you haven’t gotten to go in a while because of school and work, so I thought it would be easier for you if I brought the dance studio over here.” He scratches his head, and Nesta’s eyes drift to the silver watch on his wrist. “You never told me you used to dance. I found out from Feyre, and she sent me videos of your old ballet recitals.”

“Did she?”

Cassian nods along. “You were good. You’re still good now, which is why you should wipe that look off your face and thank me for your gift.”

Nesta is sure she looks stupefied, but she doesn’t do anything to rein it in. She has so many thoughts, and she can only think of saying, “I don’t want to practice in front of you.”

“You don’t have to,” Cassian promises. “Other than early mornings, maybe evenings, the gym will be empty for you.”

Okay. “You—” Nesta starts, “You’re really okay with this?”

Cassian’s face drops in confusion. “Okay with what?” He looks at the pole and back at Nesta. “Do you not like it?”

“Are you okay with giving me part of the gym? Where are you going to go if you want to be alone?” She chews on her lip.

Cassian laughs. “Why would I want to be alone?”

Nesta shrugs. “I need it at least once a week. I figured everyone else was the same way.” Her alone spot in the cabin is her former bedroom from the first time she lived here. Cassian knows not to enter that room, and on days when she spends time in there he simply waits until she comes out. Nesta assumed the gym was close to being something like that for Cassian.

Realization crosses Cassian’s face. “Oh, you mean like your ‘special room’?”

“Don’t say it like that,” Nesta snipes. “I told you I don’t use it for masturbating.”

He comes over and swings a heavy arm around her shoulder. “Babe, if I wanted to be alone I wouldn’t stay in the house. I’d run the trails in the woods behind the cabin.”

“Really?” Her brows furrow. She didn’t know that.

“Look, am I gonna have to return the pole or not?” Cassian says, exasperated.

Nesta stares at him closely, and upon finding no other catch to his gift, she flings her arms around his torso. “I love it,” she declares into his chest. “I love it so much.”

His body tenses in surprise at her uncharacteristic outburst, but then she feels his strong arms wrapping around her too. “In that case, have I earned myself a private show?” he teases.

“I’ll give you so many private shows,” Nesta promises. At least, once she completes her 2L and has the time to learn how to use the pole. “Emerie and Gwyn are going to be so jealous,” she hums pridefully.

Cassian chuckles deeply, and the sound rumbles through his chest where Nesta’s head rests.

They stay holding each other in silence like that for a while, mostly because it’s too early for unnecessary conversing. When Nesta finally speaks up, it’s to say, “Did you really have to call me over at eight a.m. for this, though?”

“It’s your birthday.” Cassian strokes the hair away from her neck. “Don’t even think about sleeping,” he warns. “We’re spending the whole day together. Your sisters mailed gifts, and Gwyn and Emerie are coming over at noon.”

That works for her.

***

The week after her birthday, Nesta drops her resignation letter onto Rhysand’s desk with a heavy smack.

He looks up from the envelope to her. “What’s this?”

“I’m quitting,” she announces without flourish. “Thank you for the experience. Let’s never do it again.”

“But—you got paid more than anyone else in an assistant position ever would. And you weren’t too bad at your job for a student. What went wrong?” He picks up the letter as if he can’t believe his eyes.

Nesta’s stare is a deadpan one. “Let me guess: you thought I would take your free paychecks, use my connections to move up your nepotism ladder, and end up working at Night Court comfortably for the rest of my life?”

Rhysand sits back in his chair and raises a brow at Nesta. “This is a family business,” he says smoothly. “I thought you wanted to be part of the family?”

How funny of him. “I’m good,” she answers simply.

“You came all the way here to tell me this?” Here being Velaris, which gleams through the wall of windows behind Rhysand’s desk.

“I’m not here to see you,” Nesta says, the implication being left in the air. “I’m just stopping by.” Giving a short nod, she turns on her heel to leave.

“If you ever go looking for another job,” Rhysand calls after her, “tell me if you need a recommendation. I can get you into any position at any business.”

She pauses at the door and looks over her shoulder at Rhysand. “I already have recommendations. And a job.” Her summer clerkship at the local family law firm won’t pay a third of what she made here at Night Court, but it’s good enough for now. Combined with what she’s saved up so far, she’ll get through her final year of law school without issue.

At Rhysand’s surprised face, she takes her cue to leave.

Nesta didn’t intend on going all the way to personally meet the CEO to quit, but since Cassian has been in Velaris the whole weekend for work, she thought it would be nice to surprise Cassian with a visit and cut her ties with Night Court Inc. at the same time.

Night Court’s headquarters are huge, with the skyscraper easily being one of the tallest buildings in the city. Nesta nearly gets lost trying to find her way out of Rhysand’s offices.

When she finally spots the steel doors of the elevator, they’re about to slide shut on her. “Hold the door!” she calls out, kicking into a jog. An arm pushes out at the last second to stop the doors from closing, and Nesta slides into the elevator with a sigh of relief. The doors close after her, and she turns to thank the only other person in the elevator.

The man is already looking at her in surprise—surprise which slowly turns into a shark-like smile. “Nesta?”

Nesta’s blood goes cold. He can’t be.

“Remember me?” He points at himself, still grinning. “Keith? Keith O’Connell?”

She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry. “Yeah, I remember,” she gets out.

She remembers everyone she knew from college. She especially remembers Tomas’s closest friends.

Nesta realizes Keith is saying something to her. “What floor?” he asks.

“Uh…” Where was she going again? She can’t remember. She spits out a random number and lets Keith press the button.

Nesta turns her gaze to the flashing numbers above the doors, watching them go down and down. Why are there so many damn floors?

“Didn’t think I’d see you around here,” he goes on, trying to get her to meet his eyes. “Let me guess, you’re an intern?”

Nesta keeps her eyes glued to the floor numbers. “No.”

“Ah,” he hums. “Don’t tell me you’re still chasing that lawyer dream?”

When Nesta doesn’t respond, she finds five fingers on her jaw turning her face toward Keith’s.

She jerks out of his grip, indignant rage bubbling to the surface—rage that is almost immediately suppressed by dread and fear. She’s so small right now; she can’t remember how to be big and loud.

Keith grins, taking a step closer. “What’s wrong? I just asked a question.”

Her back bumps into the wall. She barely feels it. She might as well be back in the living room of her college apartment, sitting on the arm of the couch while Tomas makes snide remarks about her to Keith O’Connell and his other friends. She’s not allowed to leave, because then she’ll be the one who can’t take a joke.

Keith frowns disappointedly at the ground, as if he found a shiny toy just to discover that it doesn’t do any tricks. Now he’s bored. “Damn,” he says. “When you’re not busy being Tom’s bitch, I guess you’re just a bitch.”

Nesta wishes she could be a bitch right now. She wishes she could fight back. “What are you doing, Keith?”

He tilts his head at her. “I’m catching up with you. You got a boyfriend?” His beady eyes slide down her form, leaving a slimy feeling in their wake.

When her lips stay pressed in a firm line, he grabs her arm and laughs. “Come on, why’re you being so weird?” He shakes her by the elbow. “I won’t tell anyone if you do have a boyfriend, promise.”

Nesta hears a ding, and the elevator doors slide open. She doesn’t know whether it’s her floor or Keith’s floor, but she doesn’t care—she’s the first to pull away from him and make an exit. “See you,” she blurts before speedwalking out of the elevator.

Why the fuck did she say “see you”? She doesn’t want to see him ever again. He doesn’t deserve to see her ever again.

Behind her, she hears Keith chuckle again. “I’ll tell Tomas you said hi,” he calls after her.

***

Cassian finds Nesta huddled under a desk.

He thought his eyes were playing tricks on him when he spotted her hurrying out of the elevator on the eighteenth floor of Night Court’s headquarters, but soon enough he realized that yes, that was Nesta’s coat and Nesta’s hair. She was supposed to be back home studying for her first two finals, but instead she was here looking like she was going to be sick.

He was about to follow her when his eyes slid to the man that had gotten off the elevator after her. He didn’t like how O’Connell was staring after Nesta.

“We’re old college friends,” O’Connell shrugged dismissively when Cassian approached him. “I was just saying hi.”

Nesta doesn’t have any friends from college.

Which leads Cassian to a dim, abandoned meeting room, one that would seem fully empty if it wasn't for the sound of strained breathing coming from under the only desk.

He approaches the desk slowly, his worn sneakers coming into Nesta’s line of sight. Pushing the rolling chair away, he crouches down to get a better look at her.

Tinny music comes out of her earbuds, loud enough to drown out any other sounds. She stares past Cassian like she can’t even see him, and the hollowed out look in her eyes terrifies him for a moment. When she blinks, tears spill over onto her cheeks.

“Nes?” Carefully, Cassian reaches out to touch one of her earbuds. After a second of hesitation, he pulls it out and lets it fall.

Nesta sniffles once, then finally turns her teary gaze to Cassian. Her eyes widen a little bit as she croaks, “How did you find me?”

“I followed you. What are you doing here, baby?”

“Um—” Her voice cracks, and she swipes away her tears with the sleeve of her coat. She clears her throat and says, “I came to surprise you.”

“And how’d you end up under here?” Cassian pulls Nesta’s hand away from her face before the scratchy wool can redden her face further. Makeup is smudged around her eyes, and he tries to soothe the sensitive skin there with his thumbs.

Nesta’s other earbud drops out of her ear while he fusses, leaving her with nothing to listen to.

Cassian is quietly, studiously tucking stray hairs back into Nesta’s bun when she confesses, “I was weak.”

“How?” Concern pinches Cassian’s brow. “By crying in front of me?”

“I was completely helpless,” she goes on, her voice numb. “And I didn’t know how not to be that way. I hated it, it’s so stupid.” She tears up again. “I’m not supposed to be that stupid.”

“Tell me what happened,” Cassian demands. He can’t pretend to be patient anymore.

Nesta presses her lips together and stares down at her shoes. Nothing Cassian can think of can prepare him for when she says, “I ran into a friend of my ex.”

So that’s who he is. A frightening calmness settles over Cassian. “O’Connell?” he asks, though he already knows.

Nesta looks up. “You know him?”

He tightens his jaw but nods. “Move over.” Ducking his head, Cassian crawls under the desk to join Nesta. He has to hunch over in half to fit, but Nesta doesn’t seem to mind.

He has to give it to her—it’s not a bad hiding spot.

“What did he say to you?” He tries to sound steady, undisturbed.

“He didn’t need to say anything,” Nesta answers. “I lost my spine with one look from him. He had me under his thumb.”

“I see.” Cassian has made peace with the fact that Tomas Mandray has long since moved away, that he’ll never be able to track the shithead down and make him suffer. What he didn’t know, however, is that Mandray left his friends behind.

“Were you hurt?” is his next question. “Did he touch you?” Cassian doesn’t know what he’ll do if Nesta says yes, but he has to ask anyway.

“I’m not hurt,” she assures him. But her hands rub over her upper arms like she can feel the ghost of a touch there.

“I see,” he repeats. He watches her for a bit longer before stating, “You’re not stupid.”

Nesta’s huff is amused. “Thank you.”

“And don’t spend too much time thinking about O’Connell,” he mutters, nudging her knee with his. “I’ll get rid of him for good.” That is a promise that Cassian is happy to keep.

Nesta looks alarmed. “Like…murder him?”

Cassian laughs. “No, not like that. But you’ll never see him again, so I hope you’ve said what you needed to say to him.”

Nesta thinks for a moment, then nods. “That sounds good. I don’t have anything to say to him.” She inhales a deep breath. “I think I feel better now.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.”

Cassian holds out a hand to her. “You wanna get out of here?”

She takes his hand and he helps her out from under the desk.

Nesta apparently booked a hotel room in Velaris to surprise Cassian with, but they both agree on the way to the parking lot that they’ve had enough of the city. Cassian chooses to leave his truck behind for Rhys to take care of, and he offers to drive Nesta’s car while she rests.

The ride home is long and quiet.

Nesta sits in silence with her earbuds in, her head leaning against the car window and one of her hands in Cassian’s. He drives with his free hand, sneaking glances over at her every so often just to make sure she really is okay.

It enrages him that someone from Nesta’s past found their way into her place of work. What if he and O’Connell weren’t working in Velaris this weekend, and Nesta bumped into O’Connell in the middle of town instead? It could have tainted any sense of safety she has with the small city she calls home.

Cassian has no plans on telling her that O’Connell is the team leader for the Milan project, or that he rents a small place on the outskirts of their town. Because soon enough neither of those things will be true, and there’s no use in unnecessarily worrying her.

He absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the back of Nesta’s hand.

When they finally pull up to the cabin, Nesta picks her head up from the window to look around. Spotting the other black car parked in the driveway, she makes a sound of disappointment. “Az is home.”

“We can stay in the car if you like,” Cassian offers. He’s in no rush to go inside and face other people, either.

Nesta pulls her heels off, bending over to rub her stockinged feet. “Maybe just for a little while.”

Cassian unbuckles his seatbelt, gesturing for Nesta to put her feet in his lap.

She obliges, looking too tired to refuse him. Cassian runs his hands up her legs and under her skirt, finding the waistband of her sheer black tights and tugging.

“What are you doing?” She jerks under his hands, eyes wide. “The car’s too small for this.”

He narrows his gaze at her. “Chill, horndog. I’m just making you comfortable.” He pulls the tights the rest of the way down her legs and off, freeing her skin.

Nesta gives a little sigh of relief at the feeling of air on her bare skin. She rubs her hands over her thighs in wonder, drawing Cassian’s gaze.

He meets her eyes, and she slowly curls her legs off his lap, tucking them underneath herself instead.

Elated to have Nesta’s undivided attention after two hours of silence, he leans over and slips his hand around her jaw, pulling her in for a kiss.

Her inhale is soft, surprised, before she relaxes against his mouth. Cassian kisses her once, twice, hoping it’ll remind her that she’s safe at his side. That nothing can make her weak.

He’s slow to pull away, and he opens his eyes to find that Nesta’s are still closed, her lips still parted. He stifles a smile and whispers, “I think we should head inside.”

“Mm-hm,” she nods eagerly.

They exit the car, Cassian carrying Nesta’s shoes and tights in one hand and Nesta running over to him barefoot.

He leaves little pecks along her jaw and neck as they enter the cabin, taking extra time to find any moles or beauty marks. She’s about to turn in his arms to face him when they both take notice of Azriel sitting in the living room. Cardboard boxes surround him, and he’s filling them up with books.

Cassian drops Nesta’s heels and tights onto the floor, bringing Az’s attention to him.

“Hey, bro,” Cassian says warily. “What are you doing?”

“Moving out,” Az answers.

Nesta chokes on a laugh. When no one laughs with her, her face drops. “You’re serious?”

Cassian thinks the same thing.

“I’m going back to Velaris,” Az shrugs, dropping some trinkets into a box. “I’m ready to face Elain. I’m taking accountability.” He says it like it’s the simplest decision ever, like he’s talking about bringing an umbrella to a picnic.

“Are you sure about this?” Cassian asks. Just a while ago his brother was terrified at the idea of entering a ten mile radius of Velaris.

“I’m packing, aren’t I?” Az says dryly.

“You’re packing our things,” Cassian points out.

Nesta gasps when she notices. “Hey, those are my books!” She hurries over to snatch one out of Azriel’s hand.

Azriel snatches it back with a dark look. “What goes in the box, stays in the box.”

Cassian sputters in disbelief, looking around at the scene before him. “I mean—can we ask what brought this on?”

“Maybe I did some self-reflection. Or maybe I finally got sick of you and Nesta hooking up while I’m in the same room, like you were about to do now.” Az shrugs, pulling out a roll of packing tape and tearing off a strip with his teeth. “Don’t act like you’re going to miss me,” he continues as he tapes one of the boxes shut. “You two have been waiting for this day for months, and I’m finally granting your wishes.”

Cassian and Nesta share a look, and Cassian says hesitantly, “This isn’t… a breakdown or something, right?”

Azriel narrows his hazel eyes at Cassian.

“Okay, okay.” Cassian holds his hands up in defense. He pulls his hoodie over his head and off in one swift movement and goes over to the couch to help his brother pack. He still doesn’t know what brought on this sudden change of heart, but he knows Az won’t tell unless he wants to.

Nesta remains standing where she is, confounded, before dropping down next to an open box and rifling through it. “I want compensation for anything of mine you’re taking,” she demands, pulling out various paperbacks one by one.

“So like a dime for every three trash porns,” Cassian tells Az.

“I’m upcharging,” Nesta says. Her hand stops rummaging through the box, and she pulls out a framed photo instead of a book. She turns her steely eyes to Azriel. “You can’t have this one.”

It’s a candid picture of Cassian, Nesta, and Azriel on the ski lodge trip. Cassian remembers the moment it was taken with vividness, because it was one of the rare moments on that vacation where all three of them were smiling at the same time.

“Emerie took this,” Nesta continues, “and she’s my friend, so by extent it’s mine.”

Az smiles politely at her. “You’re right, you should keep it,” he says. “You’re too ugly in that photo for me to take it.”

Nesta sneers back, but gets up to reset the photo on the fireplace mantle.

A day or two later, Cassian notices that the ski lodge picture is gone, frame and all. He sighs to himself and hopes Nesta won’t notice.

***

a/n: it’s official less than five parts left!! cassian’s revenge scene is gonna be hotter than every smut scene combined

tagging: @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook a favor: @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea @teagoddess99

#ncssianwrites #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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sereisstuff · 3 years

Text

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 // Suguru Niragi

Warnings - Swearing, mentions of blood. Implied violence, mentions of bullying. The reader kinda has a savior complex.

word count - 3k

Italics + bold in the beginning is a flashback. Anything beyond the keep reading sign is present tense.

Also this was a first attempt, it’s somewhat what I could come up with at the moment, I was having mixed feelings towards Niragi because of the controversy surrounding his character and fan fictions but he is a fictional character, I’ll leave it at that.

“Leave him alone”

You screamed bloody murder, watching as tears cascaded down his dewy cheeks running down towards his blood coated collar, baring the harsh texture of a softball plumbing against his broken nose. You witnessed his pleas and the pitiful cries he broke into for someone to help him, it was heart-wrenching.

Your voice broke their trance of hatred towards the poor boy, making you their focus of humour. The boy who seemed a year or two older than yourself coughed taking advantage of the situation to relish his tears onto the floor whilst grasping his stomach in pain. A moment so awful could only bring entertainment for the crowd.

“Or what princess, are you gonna beat me up for it?” he scoffed, pointing towards Niragi grimly. His lips slithering into a deceitful grin and you swore, a glint of evil was shining behind his cowardly eyes.

You clenched your fist tightly feeling the silver rings bare against your cold hands, this seemed to amuse the group of them as a harmonious wave of laughter flooded beneath the bridge “How cute, a feeble thing like you challenging me? just like a little red riding hood” he muttered, his large feet padded across the cement, advancing towards your figure.

You felt your heart race in anticipation swiping a quick look towards the harmless boy shaking on the floor, angering you to your core. Like the swindling wind, your mind was running in chaos, calculating his every step with a cold glare strung to his eyes. You could almost feel your own body shaking but not in fear, no. In rage.

“Look at her, she’s afraid of you” one interrupted with a grin, simply ignored his assumption with a raised brow. You were somewhat tall but he still stalked over you like a tree. Rooting your feet into the ground, you spoke “I’m not afraid of you, or any of you for that matter. I’m afraid of what will happen if you touch him one more time and trust me, I won’t be the one shaking in fear, that’s a promise. So go ahead, keep calling me princess, I dare you” your threat was taken lightly although the fear was evident in a few of their eyes once they witnessed the honesty in your eyes.

A promising advance.

“You're funny, isn’t she funny? How about we make a joke out of you?” He threatened baring his teeth at you.

Your neck craned to meet his eyes, daring him to do as he pleased. One of his members gripped his hand in an attempt to pull him away “just let it go, we can get him next time”

But he didn’t budge, ripping his friend's hand out of his own and raising it mighty in the air with a subtle hope of destruction lingering between his finger tips. He snarled out his reply “No, I’ll show her what you get when you don’t mind your own business”

You laughed, mocking his accusation, pushing him towards his wits end “That’s it you bitch”

His hand came crashing down only stopping once you caught his wrist, twisting it around behind his back so he could squirm in pain. The others with slight moral decency, cowered in surprise, backing away from their beloved.

“You like that, huh?” You laughed, now it was your turn to become the heartless monster they awfully played “Does it feel nice being thrown around” you mocked him once more, kicking him into the floor with a nice swing of your boot covered foot, harshly connecting with his stomach so he pummeled in absolute pain.

“Your pathetic, the whole lot of you”

You rested your leg against his soon to be bruised stomach, glaring at everyone of them “Get out of here, before the same happens to you” your tone was stern and clear, sending them a threatening message they received. Although some hesitated but followed like little sheep in a herd, you bent down to their leaders face gripping strands of his hair and pulling his face to meet yours.

“Run along little lamb, watch your herd follow you”

You made sure they were out of sight before you came back to the realization of the poor boy lying in his own puddle of tears and blood, advancing towards him in a state of worry, you bent down in front of him, arms to your sides in hopes he would understand you were no threat to him. He lifted his head slightly, his left eye of his frames was cracked and his other eye was forming a purplish bruise, you would have done a lot more than that if only you had the time.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you” you whispered softly grasping his attention, beneath his dampened strands he peaked up, a murmur of pain could be heard and beneath his hisses he gradually spoke “Th-thank you”

“It’s fine, what they did was terrible. I hope you realise that you don’t deserve that” he had no strength to smile and only nod in understanding and suddenly it dawned on you. You had bandages and wipes in your bag, hanging out with a group such as yours you always had to be aware of any bruise and injury, what came with the mix of people you had was prone to wounds and you always came prepared for tragic things.

“I’ll be back” you spoke, standing up with a slight buckle in your knees and the pulsating pain in your fists, you so effortlessly ignored the more wounded. You gripped the straps, throwing it around your forearm and running back to him. You pulled out the bandages and the alcoholic wipes as you tapped his shoulder so he could look up from his dissociation.

“Do you mind?” you asked carefully, tipping your head towards his open wound on his cheek.

He looked at you, knitting his brows in thought. Processing what you said as he weighed out the idea that you were in fact being kind, he nodded looking into your eyes as you almost crumbled at the sight. The pain and hurt hidden behind those doe eyes was painful, you could almost hear the pleas again and you couldn’t bear the thought of that ever happening to you again, so you touched up his cuts with a hiss here and there until he spoke.

“Niragi…...my name is Suguru Niragi”

Your eyes were blindfolded, fear seeping through your clothes, you didn’t know how you got here only to the point where you suddenly couldn’t breathe, you clawed against the callous fingers wrapped tightly around your neck until you couldn’t anymore.

“How long has she been here?” You heard piquing your interest, your head tipped in surprise hearing multiple voices jump to their question.

You had accepted your fate of death multiple times before this one but something told you to continue, to persevere past your inability to continue. So you did, in an attempt to relish your curiosity and fear, you spoke “Where am I??” silence was your given reply, amongst the void of people you weren’t aware surrounded you, a stern voice spoke with demand “We don’t treat future members like this, take her blindfold off”

The void you’d been getting used to was finally ripped from your sight and you could suddenly feel the warmth of sun melting into your frozen complex, just as much as you could feel, you also saw. It was unlikely to enjoy such small things like this but in a world of torture, not even people could bring you peace, not anymore at least.

“She seems tattered, this wasn’t our doing wa-” before he could finish his sentence, someone interrupted

“it’s you?”

A voice you could recognise anywhere spoke with excitement, his laugh echoing through the room as it bounced off the walls, that didn’t sound like him. That sounded like someone who loved to live in an immoral world chasing sheep after sheep, until you fall into a pit never to come out again.

“How wonderful! I see you two seem well acquainted. I don’t suppose it was from the games?” Niragi shook his head with a grin, he seemed relieved to see you but you couldn’t say the same. You could tell by his appearance he seemed less empathetic, he had just as much reason too but it seemed edging.

His piercings added to his already threatening look, somewhat seductive to the eye and appealing, far beyond his student years.

“Not at all hatter, me and y/n go way back, don’t we? My little red riding hood” he asked, finally staring into your stern orbs. You felt threatened, the gun leaning against his broad shoulders slid down his arms as he gripped into, pointing it towards your bitter face, his aim was reckless but it didn’t mean it still didn’t shake something in you, you flinched at the sight.

“Oho that seems to catch your attention, should I do it again?” He threatened lightly as he connected his intense gaze with your own, your lips lifted feeling a wave of bravery and keeping your face stern and fearless“I’ve known him since high-school” you spoke plainly masking the fear you hid behind your voice, he definitely wasn’t the warm boy you met that night, his fear nowhere to be seen as he reveled in his own power.

“Fascinating, how a game can bring even the furthest of acquaintances together” Hatter’s crazed dazed rested on you, his jaw clenched as if he suppressed the words he spoke although he spoke as if all the freedom in the world rested on his shoulders, unlike many. Hatter had a free spirit, you could tell by the clothing he wore and how he portrayed himself, although the creator had all the power he seemed unafraid of what was to come, like his own creator.

“What is this place?” You asked.

The hatter walked leisurely around your seat, taking his place behind you with a threatening glare venomously biting at him from Niragi, his soft hands placed against your bare shoulders, massaging them as if to make you seem well enough to become comfortable but once he felt your tensed shoulders, thrash in his palms, he took a moment to pause.

“Welcome, new comer. To the beach, the utopia, your own personal home of freedom” Once again, the hatters voice was lost in daze.

“The what?” you asked again, that seemed ridiculous.

“The beach, A home I created, a home for those of us to feel our freedom, to bask in it’s warmth. No rules, no governed led law, just three absolute rules that every member of the beach must follow” The hatter rested a palm on your shoulder using it as a stool for his posture.

Amongst his rant, you mellowed out his words. Losing your train of thought in Niragi’s eyes, so much discomfort rested in your own he could almost feel the anger seeping from your bones, angered due to the unruly sense of it all. You either lived or died, a way out was always on your mind but the only thing that kept you running was living, making sure that when the moment came, you would still be here to leave.

Niragi, along with his powerful facade basked in its potential and he made it known to the world with his appearance, the way his voice pitched higher as he stared at your pitiful state, the enjoyment flooding his mouth with a taunting expression, you didn’t notice who that was, who he became but you knew better, deep down. He was still Niragi, the one you saved and comforted, the one who brought you food when you were so deep in school work you couldn’t bear the thought of switching positions, not even for your well-being.

You were brought back to the world when the touch of a cold barrel met your temples, a loud click followed soon after.

“You're really starting to piss me off, little red riding hood. Do you think we’re dumb, you look at the hatter like he’s an idiot, why would you do that to your saviour” Niragi spoke tauntingly, daring you to cross those barriers you put in place for your own protection, he’s seen you angered once, he’ll see it again.

“Do it” you proclaimed with a straight face, your voice calm as a tideless sea. Niragi scoffed, the corners of his mouth stretching widely and increasingly slow, too slow for your liking. He searched your eyes for fear, wanting the succulent delight of seeing your despair.

“Or are you scared? I know fear isn’t unknown to you” You hissed back at him, your venomous fangs digging deep into his caged memory, withstood by his own barriers. He locked those memories and threw that key into a bottomless pit but despite that, it was almost like you stood, knocking against the safe he locked his pitiful self in and he was holding the knob with shaking hands, you were resurfacing the past and he vowed to only ever live in the present.

His fingers lingered against the trigger, feeling the power of his hands against the weapon. He was a god in his own eyes but before him rested something more valuable, something he cherished in a past life. He couldn't do it and the hatter noticed this, speculation threw him in and he watched as Niragi pulled the gun away from your head, pointing it towards the roof and letting his pale fingers press the trigger with an anomaly of amusement.

The power shot from his weapon, creating cracks in the roof as the crumbs of his doing fell in front of your eyes and you released a small breath in relief.

"untie her, she's going to be with me from now on-wards" Niragi demanded, he was bearing a threat towards the hatters authority.

Hatter smiled in delight, worry never once tipped his harsh features but you couldn't speak for the others, who not once faltered at your treatment, now seemed worried for your entire being.

“Do as he says, he clearly knows our fellow members. Therefore, he should do the honors” Hatter demanded, he had a clear distinction for his choice of clothing, making it apparent that his name bore a meaning. Colorful expression distorting his position with his other executive members, freedom per se or maybe it was merely just a coincidence.

Your thrashing was unnoticed in his lock, he ripped you from your place roughly as if you had no meaning to him and it was probably true. Niragi hoisted his machine to the nape of his neck, tugging you in the other hand with what he demanded.

He couldn’t believe his eyes the moment he laid his on yours, it wasn’t often that he met people he once knew without shooting them right where they thought. Ruthless, the capacity for violence he had was uncanny but not unseen for his peers, they knew not of his past and he kept it that way, his psychotic doings sparked a mutual fear within those weaker than him and that was plenty.

“You stick with me or by me from now on, you leave my side for any apparent reason and you're dead, anything you’ve done. I’ve done worse, so I don’t think you want to play with me” in contrast to his previous behavior, he now was in a craze of success. You clenched his hand in an attempt to make him whine in pain just enough for you to run but he surprised you, locking your hand in a harsh grasp that made you bite your lip in pain.

“You should have just killed me when you got the chance, it’s not like you're the same anymore. You’ve changed” You mumbled, ceasing a breath. You relaxed your body and let him lead your way, it’s not like you feared him. As someone you once knew, you often reminded yourself in the moment that he didn’t harm a fly, that was no excuse for him now but in order to keep your sanity at bay, you did just that.

“Why would I do that when I could have fun with you instead?” He laughed.

“As if I would give you the chance too” you retorted.

His steps halted, as he stared forward with a grin. He liked the challenge in your tone, if it was anything. Niragi never once let a challenge get the best of him, he meant what he said and he would make sure more than once that he would get his way.

“Is that a challenge?” he asked, delightfully. Once a friend turned stranger, you stared at the back of his tied hair, the strands falling against his shoulder blades until you caught the sway of his head leisurely turning to face you with a snake like glint in his eyes, the horror of the unknown was creeping up your spine but you weren’t going to back down like a coward, you never did and that wont start today.

“I could warp you into my little pet, do you like being called a pet my little red riding hood. Whatever version of myself was projected onto you, you can forget because the one you're witnessing shares no mercy, not even for you. So thrash and whine as much as you like” Niragi began taking small steps towards you, you backed away in fear still grimly leaving the distaste for his actions lingering on your lips as you threw a look of utter disgust his way.

You managed to walk safely, feeling the brief tender touch of an untouched wall hit your frame, watching him tower over you “Because no one will help you, in fact, I have full control over you, I own you” You scoffed, looking away for a short lived moment before you felt his slender fingers grasp your chin harshly, forcing the contact between you two.

“You must feel so big right now. So utterly powerful, your need to pick on the weaker isn’t a new concept to you, right? In fact it should be so deeply engraved in your brain that not even a rock to the head could erase that, I see. Warp me all you want but I’ll always know you for who you were, my best friend” The words that left your tongue were hot, burning your throat as you held back tears from the countless memories.

“That’s bullshit, your best friend? That was my need for repayment, that person is long gone now” He screamed, but his face didn’t gleam in despair, no. It shone in glee. The fight was racking up all his pent up anger and he was more than happy to dump it on anyone near, that so happened to be you.

“Why? Why do you do this. You wouldn’t even harm a fly, the Niragi I knew was soft and caring, he hated violence” you almost screamed, baring your teeth at Niragi, the shine of the dagger he held didn’t even surprise you, his grasp of it against your neck was so close that even the tiniest gulp would have blood seeping from your throat.

“He died, a long time ago” his voice was now emotionless, you could see the shine leaving his face as he reminisced. His stoic features returned but his hold tightened, he grasped both of your hands, casually but sharply holding both above your head with his knife in the other, his body inched close to yours and you felt the texture of his clothing against your body.

“I don’t want to hear you bitching about how you miss what we had, that’s nothing now. You're nothing now, you're not special to me. Just someone I refuse to let go, you know that old saying? Snitches get stitches? Well if you tell anyone about how we met, what I went through, they won’t have any part of their body to stitch back together”

#Niragi x reader #Niragi #suguru niragi #chishiya shuntaro #imawa no kuni no arisu #imawa no kuni no alice #alice in borderland #Alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland fanfiction #niragi imagines #hikari kuina #arisu #plus size reader

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rebrandedbard · 3 years

Note

If you’re still doing the sentence prompts I’d love to see either 46 or 9 with geraskier

Ooo nice choices! Since there were two requests for number 9, I’ll answer it on this one so that anon and @itiswhatis-andwhatitisisgay both get the alert. Keep a sharp eye, anon! I’ll do 46 for you next!

9. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

WC: 1371

Jaskier’s Champion

Added a younger Ciri into the mix because my immediate thought was that the phrase sounded like an upset toddler crying. Decided Ciri was going to be Jaskier’s little bitty champion and come to defend him from her mean dad.

“It isn’t funny!” Ciri wailed, stomping her little foot in the snow. “It isn’t funny!” she repeated, pushing at Geralt’s legs as if her tiny arms had enough strength to move him. Her face was boiling red and streaked with tears, a bit of snot dribbling from her nose. Geralt tried to bend down to wipe it away, but she batted at his hands, crying out in rage, “No, no no!”

“But Ciri—”

“Go a-way!” she screeched. “It isn’t funny!”

When he tried reaching for her again, she picked up a handful of powdery snow and threw it at him. “Go! Right now!”

Jaskier put his hands on her shoulders. “Now, Ciri,” he entreated. “It was only a little prank, and Geralt apologized already. Nobody was hurt. It was only a bit of fun—nothing but a playful tease. Perfectly harmless.”

“No-o-o-o!” she cried once more, long and piercing. “We don’t want you!”

Geralt winced, looking at Jaskier with a desperate plea in his eyes.

Jaskier shrugged over the top of the hysteric tyke’s head. “She may be no more than a baby, but she has the sense of justice of a morally-staunch old woman.”

He sneezed, startling Ciri, who turned to Geralt with a glare of pure scorn.

“Bless him,” she demanded.

Geralt held his handkerchief out to Jaskier instead. “Bless you,” he sighed obediently.

Ciri reached up on her tip-toes and snatched the handkerchief away, tossing it back at him. She pulled a little hanky of her own from her cloak and handed it to Jaskier in its place. Then, with a sniff, she turned and started pushing Jaskier toward the stables. “Let’s go,” she said, picking up her little knapsack. She struggled, dragging Jaskier’s pack once more through the snow. She made it another two feet from the inn door before she had to stop and catch her breath.

“Cirilla, little cub, I really don’t think this is necessary for a simple—”

“It is nec-ess-ar-y!” she insisted. “He pushed you. He pushed you in and you got sick.”

They’d had a little play-fight in the snow four days ago, happy as a pack of puppies set loose to romp. Towards the end, Geralt had crept up behind Jaskier and pushed him into a snowbank, unaware of the duck pond that lay hidden beneath. Jaskier had come sputtering to the surface, soaked through, and it was a half hour’s walk back to the inn. He’d caught a chill before they could get him warmed up, and for three days after, he’d been resigned to his bed.

Ciri had been frightened, asking over and over if Jaskier was going to die—a question that, when first asked, had doubled Geralt over in laughter. Her little green eyes had been so huge and sincere. He just couldn’t help himself. Ciri hadn’t let him come near Jaskier since.

“It isn’t funny,” she mumbled again, as if she could see the memory playing over in Geralt’s mind. And perhaps she could. She had a touch of magic in her.

“It isn’t funny,” Geralt agreed. He knelt down to eye-level to speak with her. “And I’m sorry I laughed. I would be very sad if anything should happen to Jaskier.”

Jaskier smiled at that, slightly smug. Oh would you now? he seemed to say.

Geralt glanced up at him with a look that told him to behave, then reached out to pick up Jaskier’s wet bag. She grunted at him, but he ignored her, heading towards the stables. He began to strap on Roach’s saddle and tied Jaskier’s bag to the side, speaking slowly as he did.

“So you’ve decided to leave me behind. Where are you going?”

“Not your business,” Ciri huffed, refusing to look at him.

Geralt hummed. He caught an anxious look from Jaskier, but simply reached out and took his lute case, tying it to the saddle next. “Your uncles will be waiting for you at home; they promised you plenty of presents for Yule this year. But I’ll be there too. Perhaps you’d rather go to Oxenfurt with Jaskier. There would be lots of parties in store for you, and the groundskeeper’s dog will be having her litter soon. Maybe they’ll give you a pup.”

Ciri frowned as Geralt took her knapsack and tied it with the rest. She hesitated a moment, then held her head up and said, “Oxfurt.”

“Then you’ll need coin for your travels.” He pulled a pouch from his belt and put it in her hands. “Here. This ought to be enough to put you up in a cozy room on the way. Make sure you don’t walk too much. Jaskier still needs his rest. And feed him lots of soup, understand?”

Ciri looked between Geralt and the pouch. She turned to look up at Jaskier, too confused to remember her temper. When she turned back to Geralt, he had Roach’s reins in hand.

Geralt looked down at her and asked, “Can I come close enough to bid Jaskier goodbye?”

Ciri gripped the little purse tight in her hands. She looked between the two of them, the hint of a pout beginning to form on her lips. Her face was becoming red again as if she were trying very hard to hold something in.

So Geralt leaned over her head and gave Jaskier a kiss. Jaskier blinked in surprise as Geralt gave his face a cheeky pat, then Geralt was off, leaving Roach’s reins in his shocked hands. “Goodbye!” he called, pack slung over his shoulder. “Take good care of Jaskier for me, Ciri.”

Then Ciri was crying, chasing after him with a heartbroken wail.

“Don’t go!” she sobbed, latching onto his leg.

Geralt tried to suppress a smile, hiking up his burdened leg to take one last performative step. “You don’t want me,” he said.

“No!” she cried again, hugging his leg even tighter as the tears rolled down her face.

“You do want me?”

“No-o-o-o-ho-ho-o-oh!”

Despite her unintelligible responses, Geralt turned and dropped his bag, sitting on the frozen ground. The moment he was within reach, Ciri threw herself at him. She beat his chest with her tiny fists, then wrapped her arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. He hugged her, wrapping her in his cloak to keep warm.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” she shouted.

Geralt nodded. He pet her hair, shushing her gently. “I promise.”

“No leaving! Ever!”

“What,” Jaskier asked, “was that all about?”

He stood towering over Geralt with his hands on his hips. His face was flushed, far too flushed to blame on the cold, and he was looking at Geralt with his sternest no-nonsense expression.

Geralt smiled innocently. “I was doing as I was told. Seemed to work out well.”

“Not that,” Jaskier said. “The whole—!” He gestured a circle around his face, then flicked his hands at Geralt, eyes landing on his lips. He cleared his throat and looked away, flapping his hand in an empty motion. “That.”

“The kiss?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier huffed. “Yes, that.”

“Hm.”

“Oh-ho-ho, no! Don’t you ‘hm’ me! We are talking about this one, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled, offering Ciri his handkerchief. “Ciri doesn’t like when you’re sick,” he said.

“And?”

“And I don’t like seeing you sick either.”

“But what has that got to do with—”

Ciri wiped her eyes and tugged at Geralt’s cloak. “Did you kiss him better?” she asked.

“Yes, princess,” Geralt replied. “He’s all better now.”

“Then you can stay.”

Geralt picked Ciri up and put her in Roach’s saddle as the realization crept over Jaskier. He turned to take the reins back once more, winking at Jaskier. “Unless you think he needs another kiss, Ciri,” he added casually.

Jaskier scrambled after them, eyes lighting up with excitement. “I need a—!”

“I need a kiss better,” she said, holding out her hands.

Geralt craned up and kissed her cheek before instructing her to hold on tight to the saddle horn. They were only two days away from Kaer Morhen. There would be plenty of time to kiss it all better once Ciri was in the care of Uncle Eskel and Uncle Lambert. They had all winter.

Send me a drabble prompt!

#my fic #drabbles #witcher #the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #young!ciri #jaskier's champion fic #angst and fluff and angst and fluff just back and forth #y'all know the drill by now #ask game

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mirkosintern · 3 years

Text

Crawlin’ back to you

pairing: dabi x fem!reader

genre: smut with a lil angst and fluff if you squint

notes: reader is a member of the lov, set in the meta liberation army arc (before the war!), possessive dabi, wowee this is my first work!! I never expected myself to be able to write a piece but here we are ehehe this was inspired by a certain tiktok actually. U may have already noticed but the title is from the song do I wanna know? by the arctic monkeys<3

warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, breeding, cum play, dubcon-ish?, toxic relationship, degradation, vulgar language, alcohol

word count: 3k

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

That the nights were mainly made for saying things that you can't say tomorrow day Crawlin’ back to you Ever thought of callin’ when you've had a few? 'Cause I always do Maybe I'm too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new Now I've thought it through

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Dabi wasn’t one to do feelings. He’s screwed numerous women, but they were nothing more than some toys to fulfill his sexual needs. Neither did he want to have feelings, nor did he need to. Afterall, his side hoes who begged to stay with him even after all the degradation he’s given them disgusted him the most. He would snicker at their pathetic attempts and cut them off ruthlessly.

However, you were an only exception.

No, he did not have feelings for you, he swears he never did and never will. But you were different from his other disposable sluts--he kept you around. He didn’t ghost you, instead, he kept coming back. It is only because you’re a member of the lov as well, he thinks. You are easy to access since you’re always around the lov base, and he doesn’t even have to worry about getting caught by civilians or stupid bitches who suddenly decide to turn him into the police. You guys were practically co-workers with benefits, fuck buddies where the “buddies” part is questionable.

Dabi didn’t mind that he made an exception for you until that night. That very night where you sleepily decided to crawl into his arms after a rough round and whispered him how you loved the rough texture of his skin against yours. That very night where you pressed delicate kisses beneath his jaw. The moment of intimacy—making his heart pound and warmth spread beneath his cold skin—was threatening. You were threatening.

That’s where he cut you off completely. He did not knock on your bedroom door located in the lov base anymore. He stopped sending those “you up?” texts at 3am. He didn’t even lock eyes with you or talk to you anymore.

It feels as if something heavy dropped inside you, squashing your heart to the point where it’s painful. You try your best to ignore the pang in your chest and remind yourself that you guys were nothing more than co-workers with benefits. However, the enduring heartburn only functions to make you realize how attached you were to him. He’s Dabi, the biggest scumbag you will ever meet, what did you expect? What were you thinking? It should be no surprise this happened, right? But having to encounter his stupidly handsome face every day was not doing any help. You are a girl with dignity, you tell yourself, trying your best to ignore his strong scent of campfire and cologne drowning you every time you guys are in the same room.

The pain is suffocating you for weeks, and you finally decide to completely get over him. The night Dabi brings a bimbo to his room and fucks her loud enough for everyone in the lov to hear—for you to hear—you’re done with everything. You step outside, get drunk, do anything to numbify the pain the raven-haired guy has caused you, and even meet a nice-looking guy who seems to be interested in you.

You are doing good without Dabi.

You don’t need Dabi anymore.

You are not letting him get to your head.

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A party.

League of villains is all about privacy, but they also started having some fun after uniting with the meta liberation army. Now they had sufficient money, people and place to throw parties every now and then without the danger of getting caught by civilians. Afterall, a number of heroes were in their side as well.

“Not gonna lie, you guys do know how to host parties.” Keigo smirks, picking up a glass of bourbon whiskey. “It’s fuckin’ lame,” Dabi answers as he downs a glass of liquor.

“So, what happened with y/n?” Keigo throws a suggestive smile.

“The hell you mean what happened with her?” Dabi frowns.

“Y’know, didn’t you guys used to be a thing or something?”

“Nah, she was an occasional fuck and that’s it.”

“Oh really? The Dabi I know never fucks a same bitch twice though. I thought she was something special.”

“Special?”

“Yeah, thought maybe you actually wanted her.”

A smug grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Never even liked her.”

“Have you seen her and her new boyfriend?”

The smile is quick to vanish from his face after hearing the word boyfriend. Dabi’s eyes widen, immediately glaring at Keigo. Before he could say anything, Keigo tilts his chin to point something.

“There they are.”

Dabi turns his head only to find you clinging onto some guy’s arm. Your cheeks are flushed –a pretty, pink glow on your face—as you bat your eyelashes at the guy. Bubbly giggles escape from your lips while you stare at him through half-lidded eyes. The guy’s arm is secured around your waists, pulling you closer to him.

Dabi sees red.

His entire body freezes as his grip around the liquor glass tighten. Dabi doesn’t say anything for a moment, but there is no way Keigo wouldn’t pick up how his cerulean eyes are flaming at the sight. “Well, I thought you knew.” Keigo pats Dabi’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t matter anyways right? You never liked her.”

“…Right.” Dabi takes another sip from the liquor, his eyes still fixed to you.

Keigo’s words are true; at least they are supposed to be true. Dabi didn’t have feelings for you. He doesn’t do romance. No feelings were ever involved with any of the women he’s slept with, and he made sure of it. It was so clear for Dabi without a question.

But why is it unable for him to erase the sight of you with some guy as he forces himself to sleep that night? Why are your sweet giggles echoing his head? Why can’t he get rid of the thought of you in that tight, black dress that perfectly complements the curves of your body? Why is the moment where the guy places his hand on your inner thigh replaying in his head? Why are thoughts of you messing with his mind?

“Fucking hell.”

Dabi gets up. This was fucking annoying. You were truly fucking annoying.

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You tilt your head to check the glowing digits of your digital clock on the nightstand. 2:15am. It’s late, and you haven’t even taken off the dress you wore to the party. You are too tired both physically and emotionally. You’ve done quite a decent job in entertaining the man who’s accompanied you through the whole party, but it was truly an energy-consuming task. You and him walked around as if you guys were the happiest couple in the party; but the truth is that you guys aren’t even properly dating yet. Solely because you have constantly been refusing to properly answer him asking you to be his girlfriend. It’s not that he’s bad looking or anything, but the idea of being with him just doesn’t sit right with you. Ever since you’ve met him, he couldn’t keep his hands off you without asking you anything about consent. You always had to pull his hand away with an uncomfortable smile, yet he never took a hint. However, when a dating rumor about you and him started and spread quickly, you didn’t try to correct anything. Maybe it was because you wanted to pull out a reaction from a certain villain. Maybe your unusual actions at today’s party; clinging onto the guy and laughing at every single word he spoke; was to make Dabi witness how happy you were.

Truthfully, you were dying inside.

What was even worse was that none of your attempts seemed to bring an ounce of reaction from Dabi. When have you become so pathetic and desperate? You feel tears welling up in your eyes, hot and burning, but you don’t want to cry. Not for an asshole like him. You take out your phone, find the guy’s name, and text him that you don’t want to see him anymore. You feel a little guilty, thinking that you may have used him to provoke something from Dabi, but your thoughts are too worn out for you to comprehend anything. You flop onto your bed and bury your face in your pillow. You huff out a deep sigh, and the soft texture of your cotton pillow feels warm on your cheeks. In all honesty, you were thinking about Dabi the whole time you were at the party. Whenever the guy’s hand creeped up your thighs or gripped on your ass, you imagined it was Dabi’s, trying your hardest to feel something from the contact.

You weren’t over Dabi. You never were. Realization hurts, leaving a sour feeling in your mouth.

Your body shoots up at the sudden, loud slamming sound emerged from your door. Your teary eyes widen at the lean man slamming the door shut. “Dabi?” You ask, not believing your eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” Without an answer, Dabi’s one hand reaches for your throat as his other hand grips your wrist. His large body is towering over you, and you feel your bed shift as he dips one knee in the mattress. His sapphire eyes pierce through your soul, and you can feel his raging anger just from looking at him.

“You’re such a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

“Dabi, what are you-“

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence, pulling you in for a heated kiss. Your lips open reflexively, enabling him to deepen the kiss. The kiss is aggressive, and he doesn’t know whether it is because of his anger or his pent-up desires towards you that he has been suppressing. The kiss gets sloppier over time, hot and wet with saliva and tongue. He lets go of the grip on your wrist and starts tracing your inner thigh with his thumb, and you let out a soft moan. You finally pull away from the kiss to catch your breath, but he doesn’t cease to caress your thigh. Instead, he lowers himself to your ear. “You seem to really love thigh touches, don’t you?” His low voice and hot breath brushing the shell of your ear sends chills down your spine.

“Huh?”

“I always knew you were a slut, but never knew you were this much of a whore. You would bend over any guy who offers you some touches, right?”

Tears swell in your eyes again at his vile words, but it’s hard to talk when his knuckles are repeatedly brushing your clit.

“I’m… not a slut…nngh.” Suppressed moans escape your lips.

“Yeah? Why are you making those sounds then?”

“Dabi…”

He yanks your dress up and dips two fingers inside your lace panties, making you let out a weak yelp. Dabi raises his brows with a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, so she indeed is a slut huh? You get this fucking wet from a kiss?”

His two digits start pumping inside you, and you grip on his white shirt at the sudden sensation. Your gasps and moans get louder, and you suddenly feel his wet lips against your neck. Dabi sucks hard, making sure to leave dark purple marks from your jaw to your neck and shoulder, as he repeats the step of curling his fingers and pulling them inside and out your hole. “Dabi…too fast.” You whine out. “Yeah?” A sadistic grin appears on Dabi’s face. “Be a good slut and take what I give you.” His thumb reaches for your clit, making your legs shiver.

“Nngh…stop, I’m gonna… Dabi I’m gonna cum.”

“Stop? You want me to stop?”

“No!”

“Do you deserve it though?” he slows his pace while teasing your clit. “Beg.”

It’s humiliating, really—but do you have any other choice when you are this close?

“Please, Dabi… I’ll be your good slut. Please let me cum!” Your desperate cries have him pumping his fingers fast again, and soon you’re seeing white. Hot drops of release coat Dabi’s fingers as he pulls out.

“Say ah.”

“A-ah.”

You obey, and Dabi sticks his digits inside your mouth. Your mouth wraps around them immediately, sucking as if it’s a pacifier. “Good girl,” Dabi says as he pats your head, and it makes your stomach swoop with sick pride.

The bulge in his pants is becoming painful, and he contemplates on fucking your mouth. But he’s too impatient; He feels the need to abuse your cunt right now. He wants to hear your screams and cries as he proves who you belong to.

“Take that off.” Dabi gestures at your dress, and you start undressing as he demands. Dabi pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It’s so pretty, you think, and you can’t help but admire his red tip, glistening with precum. He pumps his length a few times and lines it up with your entrance. You inhale a sharp gasp as you feel his whole length inside you. It feels so full; it feels as if he’s gonna split you in half if he starts moving.

“Ah, too big.”

“I know.” Dabi looks down on you. “Take it like a little slut you are.”

Before you could even talk back, he is moving inside you. Your moans blend with the noise of the bed creaking; a perfectly harmonized orchestra to Dabi’s ears.

You knew Dabi wasn’t one to prep you or go slow, but you feel like he’s going way rougher than usual. His wild thrusts have your head lolling backwards, and Dabi does not miss the chance to take a hard bite on your neck. You scream out of both pain and pleasure, and you feel two hot streams of tears on your flushed cheeks.

“Aww, she’s crying.” Dabi says in a mocking tone. “Bet you love the pain.”

Humiliation fills your chest and you turn your head away, but Dabi quickly grabs your chin with one hand, forcing you to directly face him.

“Who’s the one making you feel this full?” he asks.

“Y-you.”

“Did he ever make you feel this way?”

Wait, he? Who does he mean by he? Your alleged boyfriend? Could it be possible that Dabi was doing this out of jealousy? You try to comprehend, but it’s impossible for you to think clearly, not when Dabi is fucking you stupid. “No!” You shout.

Dabi’s free hand reaches for your clit and starts rubbing circles. “Tell me, who does this pussy belong to?”

“You…” You try to answer, but he suddenly lifts up your lower body and slams into your cervix in the right angle. It has you moaning even louder, your insides spasming around his cock.

“I can’t hear you.” He smirks sadistically.

“You, Dabi, it belongs to you! I belong to you!” You’re screaming his name like it’s the only word you know, making his cock twitch. “That’s right. You are all for me, all for me to use. Just a pathetic little slut for my cock.” A satisfactory grin appears on Dabi’s face.

Dabi lowers his body down and grunts directly into your ear as he thrusts even faster. The sound of his skin slamming into yours is so erotic, and you can feel how close you are.

“You wanna cum huh?” His words have you nodding frantically, babbling incoherent words. Yes Dabi—wanna cum so bad—wanna be yours—wanna be your good girl—please, dabi.

“Then do it. Make a mess on my cock.”

“Nngh, Dabi!” You scream out his name as euphoria washes down your body. His release follows you soon enough, painting your walls white. You feel warmth filling your belly while his groans echo in your ear. You’re still sobbing and panting after he pulls out, without any energy left to move. As your blurry vision starts getting clearer, you feel his warm skin and the sting of his cold staples against your back. His long arms wrap around your oversensitive body, pulling you closer to him.

“You’re messing with my head.” Dabi rests his forehead on the back of your shoulder.

“Huh?”

You’re confused, but Dabi doesn’t elaborate. His ego doesn’t let him do such thing.

“When you said you belonged to me, did you mean it?”

You bite your lower lip, not knowing how to respond to his sudden question. Millions of unspoken words and feelings are hanging in the back of your throat, creating a huge lump. You swallow them all and spit out a question instead. “Do you want me to belong to you?”

“Yeah.” Your eyes widen at his unexpected response, butterflies fluttering inside your chest. “Be mine.” His low voice vibrates against your soft skin. Your heart melts at his words, and you cannot stop your feelings from overspilling anymore. At that moment you both realize; you and Dabi were meant to crawl back to each other, no matter how hard you both try and struggle.

“I’m yours.” You smile, “I’m all yours.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #bnha x y/n #touya x reader #touya x y/n #todoroki touya x reader #dabi #todoroki touya #dabi lemon #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #dabi fanfic #dabi fic

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floating-mid-air · 3 years

Text

The Princess of all Saiyans

Masterlist

Hey Everyone! It's been a while. My life's been kind of hectic the past couple of months. Long story short: I Graduated from Highschool this year, so I was busy with everything having to do with that. Then my summer job sadly prevented me from writing as well. And then I started College, which was a big change for me. For now, there are no more chapters in my life opening or closing. Now I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable continuing this book again. I could've honestly been writing during all of this chaos. But I wouldn't have been pleased with the quality of my writing. I'm really excited to get back into the swing of things. I don't think this chapter panned out the way I originally planned, but I'm still happy with it. As always, I hope you enjoy it. And if you have any comments or concerns, feel free to let me know. My inbox is always open!

Chapter 11

You've been walking for quite some time now, and the experience has been excruciating. You haven't been in this much pain since you and Raditz were on planet Telia, ten-something years ago. Those damn underlings were able to get a good sneak attack on you. Though you can't say, you let them get away scot-free. You made sure to make their entire dreadful race pay for that injury. You and Raditz had covered up that incident, much like you're doing with your current injury.

"So---" You can hear Goku talking to Krillin from just slightly left of you. "Did you guys find the senzu beans?" Wow, Kakarot may be the least subtle creature you've ever encountered.

"Ya." Krillin chuckles. "All four of us were in pretty rough shape." Goku glances at you with a worried look on his face. You glare at him as Raditz eyes the two of you skeptically. He knows something's off between the two of you. Maybe something serious did happen while you and his brother were trapped together.

A bit more time has passed, and you've been trying your best to keep up with the others. But it isn't as easy as you thought. You're now trailing behind the rest of them, with Raditz turning back to look at you every so often. The largest Saiyan slows down to catch up with your slower pace, now walking beside you.

He turns to you, whispering in a low tone. "Something's off." Raditz can no longer stay silent about his concerns. First, it was the strange vibes between you and Kakarot. And now it's your out-of-character demeanor making him uneasy.

"About what?"

"You. Typically you walk beside your brother, and when he doesn't let you, you make sure you're always only a few paces behind. But right now, you couldn't be more content to trail everyone. Plus, you're far too confident to not be in the very front." Raditz has been around far too long for your liking. Damn him. He knows you far too well, and you hate him for it.

You roll your eyes at him. "So this conclusion of yours is based on the way I'm walking? I'm tired. When I fought, Burter, that physically drained me. And then I got trapped in a ditch with your moronic brother, that mentally drained me. I'm exhausted, Raditz."

"It's not just the way you're walking. It's your mannerisms as well." He points at your side. "Your hand hasn't moved from your side from the moment I first saw you."

"God, Raditz." You scoff. "Stop overanalyzing everything."

"Getting defensive now? That's your M.O whenever you're hiding something." He looks back and forth between your face and your hand that has remained glued to your side. The gears in the older Saiyan's head slowly but surely turning. " Y/N, are you hurt?"

"No." You snap your eyes shut, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood in an attempt to suppress a wince of pain. "I'm fine."

He tilts his head at you. "Y/N, I know you claim otherwise, but I'm not stupid. I know you're in pain."

You chuckle softly in a self-pitying way. "Am I that easy to read?"

Raditz shakes his head, smiling to himself. "No, I've just known you for a long time now." He returns to his serious demeanor, his gaze returning to the area of your wound. "How bad is it?"

"I barely feel it at all. Though, climbing out of that ditch must have reopened the cut."

Raditz snickers. "You're a bad liar."

"That's strange. I've been told in the past that I'm quite good at lying."

A smirk spreads across Raditz's lips. "Well, you apparently aren't when I'm involved."

The larger Saiyan glances at the back of your brother's head. You respond with a glare, firmly pulling on a large chunk of his hair. You know what Raditz wants to do, and it's not happening. "Don't even think about it."

"I-I think we should tell him Y/N."

"No." You let go of his hair, tapping his chest with extreme force. "You're going to keep your big mouth shut. Vegeta will freak out. You know how irrational he gets."

Raditz decides to let you have your way--- for now. The man can't help but wonder why you're so stubborn, but then again, his nature isn't much different from yours.

With every minute that passes, your condition only seems to worsen. Your eyes even start to droop. "Y/N?" Raditz turns to you, his features beginning to fill with worry. He places one of his large hands on your forehead. You're burning up. "You have a fever. Your wound must be infected."

"No." You shake your head in disagreement, almost like a child. As your mental state becomes more and more delirious.

"Vegeta!" Raditz shouts, gaining your brother's attention.

"Fuck you, Raditz! You're such a blabbermouth!" You shout at the larger Saiyan in front of you.

"What's wrong this time? Is my sister trying to pull you into another one of her elaborate schemes?"

"Y/N's hurt--- bad." Vegeta's eyes widen, and not even a millisecond later, he rushes to your side. "She has a fever. I think her cut is infected."

"Where is it?" He crosses his arms at you, noticing your hand placed firmly on your side. He moves your hand out of the way with ease, lifting your armor. "How did this happen?"

"Burter nicked me during our fight. It's no big deal."

"No big deal? It's infected, you stupid woman!" He turns his attention to Kakarot. "Did you know about this?"

You snicker. "Oh ya, Vegeta. I get hurt, and the first person I run to tell is Kakarot." Vegeta's fists clench at your sarcastic remark, turning his fit of rage back at you.

"You know, in certain situations, you're more prone to infections. And a planet like Namek checks all of the boxes! You know you need to be more careful. Damn our mother and her faulty genetics!" Sadly that's a trait you had inherited from your mother. On most planets, you'd be fine, and injuring yourself would be no big deal. But Namek has specific conditions that result in you being more vulnerable.

"Raditz, pick her up." Raditz picks you up, giving you a piggyback ride. You wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself better balance. Vegeta glances up at you. He looks even madder than usual. "With the condition, you're in, you will not be fighting. You will stay away from Jeice, and you won't even enter the same proximity as Ginyu. Do you understand me?"

"But--"

"No!" His voice booms, gaining the attention of every creature for miles. "I'm not kidding around. Do you understand me?"

You bite your lip, tilting your head downwards, avoiding your brother's gaze like the plague. "Yes, Vegeta." Vegeta returns to the front of the group, his mood sourer than ever.

As Raditz begins to walk, he starts talking to you again. "Are you mad at me?" You don't verbally respond. Instead, you claw into his shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh. "Fuck. I'll take that as a yes."

"You're a tattletale."

Raditz chuckles. "No wonder why Vegeta babies you. You'll thank me for this later, you stubborn woman. And I've kept your secrets before, handfuls of them, actually. Like what happened on planet Telia----" Raditz realized the grave mistake he had just made, mentioning that incident in the presence of the very being you worked so hard to hide it from.

You slap the older Saiyan upside the head as Vegeta turns backward, a scowl plastered on his face. "What happened on plant Telia?" It was a rhetorical question, mocking both you and Raditz. "Oh, the three of us will be discussing this in length later. Because it sounds to me like you both lied to me on that initial report." You and Raditz gulp, you've heard that tone from your brother millions of times now, and it has never once become any less terrifying.

"Oh, lighten up, Geta." You groan. "That was like, what? Around thirteen years ago?"

"The amount of time that has passed matters very little to me. As I said before, this is a discussion for later."

A few more hours have passed, which honestly feels like days at this point. And considering Namek's strange day cycle, it very well could've been. "How much farther?" Your question was clearly directed at Vegeta. And at this point, you're not even sure he has any idea where you're headed either.

"I don't know why you're the one complaining." Raditz huffs. "You're not the one doing all of the walking! And if you ask him that one more time, I'm going to drop you." Ok so maybe, that wasn't the first time you've asked that question today. Or the second, or third, you're very bored.

"Man Raditz." You roll your eyes, which are barely open at this point. "You sure complain--- a lot."

"You were just complaining." The long-haired Saiyan grumbles.

"No, I simply asked Vegeta a question. There's a difference Raditz. I know it's hard for your feeble mind to understand." When you're sick, you tend to act, oh what's the word? Bitcher than normal. And that's saying a lot.

Raditz clenches his jaw. "Vegeta. I need a break from your sister."

"That's how I felt ninety percent of the time I was stuck in a room with you, Nappa, and Cado. And you didn't see me running to wine to Frieza about it."

Before Raditz can retort, your brother interjects. "That's enough! From both of you!"

Krillin, Gohan, and Goku have identical bewildered expressions on their faces. Krillin turns to Vegeta, lowering his voice to a whisper. He doesn't want to be the next victim of your wrath. "Do they always fight like this?" The human finds this perplexing. Back on Earth, the pair seemed inseparable. They appeared to be the Saiyan equivalent of what on Earth would be considered best friends.

Vegeta lets out an exaggerated sigh. "Yes, but typically it's more playful in nature. When my sister is sick, she becomes even brattier than usual."

Vegeta's warning to both of you seems to have fallen on dead ears. Because your quarrel has not ceased, in fact, it has only elevated. "I will drop you, you royal brat!"

"I dare you to you second-class runt. I could still kick your ass even in my delirious state. I wouldn't even have to try very hard."

"I'm considering----"

Before Raditz can even get three words out, your bickering is once again interrupted, and not by the person you may think. "Enough!" Gohan shouts. You honestly forgot the others were here for a moment."If you two keep fighting like this, you're going to get all of us killed!" You and Raditz stare at the boy in shock. It's been a long time since the two of you have been yelled at by a child. The last time being when you were children yourselves. Vegeta hasn't changed much since childhood. He's been bossing you around and shouting at you since you were children, but I'm sure that's not very surprising.

"Ya, and I can take Y/N---- if you need a break." Goku rubs the back of his neck, chuckling sheepishly. "Not that I want to hold Y/N or anything."

"No." You rapidly shake your head. "Raditz, I'm sorry. I'll be good now--- I promise."

A wicked grin spreads across Raditz's lips right before he grabs your hands with his larger ones. He loosens your grip around his neck, moving your body with ease, scooping you up into his arms. Every step Raditz takes toward Goku seems even more antagonizing slower than the last. Until he's standing directly in front of his younger brother. He elevates his arms slightly, dropping you right in front of an unsuspecting Goku.

Lucky for you, Goku has sharp reflexes. That allows the Saiyan to catch you easily. Raditz look's his brother dead in the eyes, his typical arrogant grin still on his lips. "She's your problem now, Kakarot." Raditz gazes downward to look at you. "Stop pouting. Maybe next time, you'll be nicer to good old Raditz."

A low growl echoes in the back of your throat as you glare daggers at the Saiyan standing before you. "Ya, or maybe next time, I'll rip out your tail and strangle you with it!" The only thing that's stopping you from lunging at Raditz is Goku's firm grip holding you in place.

Rather than arguing that the entire group has become accustomed to, the whole area has become dead silent. You're no longer pouting. Instead, you are glaring at the man who continues to carry you bridal style. You've never liked being held like this. It makes you feel weak like you have no control over your own body.

What makes you even more irritated, Is how Goku reacts to your death stare. He just grins at you. Does he just never get angry? What kind of Saiyan is he? It fills you with so much anger that someone as dopey as Kakarot has Saiyan blood flowing through his veins.

You clench your fists. You just wanna punch Kakarot so badly. He just has such a punchable face. If you could take away his cheery personality, he'd actually be quite attractive. Wait--- what the hell are you thinking? Kakarot is stupid and way too friendly for you to ever think of him in that way.

You move your fist up, finally giving in to your urges, attempting to punch the man holding you. Probably not your wisest moment, but your brain isn't functioning normally right now. Goku catches your hand with ease. His reflexes are unreal, or maybe this fever has you more sluggish than you believed. You'd prefer to think that it's the second option. He chuckles to himself. He's still not upset. What the hell is wrong with him? "Come on, Y/N. You gotta be quicker than that." He's challenging you. How Saiyan like of him. You seem to always be able to find specks of Saiyan nature in the cheerful man. And those are the aspects you actually like about him.

Your eyes begin to once again feel heavy as your eyes droop shut, just before you fall asleep in the arms of your enemy.

Twenty-Something Years Ago:

You're sitting on your bed, sitting crisscrossed, a book laying open on your lap. Since your father is currently off-planet, you can read all you want. You're enamored with your newest book. It's all about a topic referred to as diplomacy. It's fascinating and has many concepts that are entirely foreign to you, yet at the same time, some of these ideas are also familiar.

As you read, your door slams open, but you pay the interruption almost no attention, not even bothering to look up from your book. Honestly, the unwelcome intrusion has you more angered than anything else. "God, Vegeta." You roll your eyes. "Haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Something's not right. When Vegeta usually bursts into your room, he's automatically shouting at you.

Out of pure curiosity, you look up from your book. However, standing at your door, you don't find Vegeta. A boy with a very similar appearance but with a much smaller stature stands in your door frame. He's out of breath, desperately huffing for air. "Tarble?" You furrow your brows at your brother, launching off your bed to get closer to him. "What's wrong?" You have this sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your twin has never behaved in such a manner before.

"Captain--- Captain Ginyu is here." Tarble is shaking, his eyes watering slightly.

You scowl ever so slightly. "But Ginyu's not scheduled to be on planet Vegeta any time soon."

"It's--- It's a surprise visit. What do we do, Y/N?"

You contemplate for a moment before your features fill with alarm. "Tarble? Where's Vegeta?"

His lip quivers as he looks down at the floor. "He's with Captain Ginyu."

"Damn it." You mutter under your breath. Diplomacy is a skill you need right now. And Vegeta doesn't have a single quality that a diplomat possesses. Your elder brother is more likely to unnecessarily provoke the Captain, putting your entire race in hot water with the Frieza Force.

You rush over to your bedside table, rummaging through the drawer. Once you have your scouter in your hand, you run back over to your brother. "Stay in here, and use this to channel our father. Let him know what's going on." You push past your twin, about to leave, before Tarble's voice calls out to you.

"Wait, Y/N!" You turn back to look at him. "Where are you going?"

"I have to go stop our older brother from doing something stupid. Everything will be fine, I promise. Just calm down and do as I said." And with that, you take off, praying that Vegeta hasn't already done something rash.

As you sprint down the halls of the palace, you run face-first into the torso of a large body. "Princess?"

You look up at the bald Saiyan, the one who's supposed to be at your brother's side at all times. Since the future king of planet Vegeta needs to be protected. "Nappa, Where is my brother?"

The imbecile scratches the back of his neck, contemplating much longer for your liking. "I'm not sure. I haven't seen the runt in quite some time. You should probably ask Vegeta."

You scowl at the Saiyan. "Not Tarble, you fool! I'm asking you where Vegeta is!"

"Oh, Why didn't you just say so?" It's taking every ounce of restraint you have in your body to not viciously attack Nappa. "He's just outside of the palace."

You run through Nappa, intentionally knocking the large Saiayn onto the floor. His stupidity lost you precious time. It was quite an amusing sight, though. A mere child, being able to take down one of your father's best warriors.

You arrive outside of the palace, your eyes landing on your target. This is the first time you've ever seen Captain Ginyu. Sure, you've heard stories of the purple man. And much like your people, Ginyu is just as bloodthirsty and just as ruthless. Much to your surprise, the Captain doesn't have an army behind him. This was just before the Ginyu Force had formed. All Ginyu was at this point in time was a captain of one of Frieza's many armies.

You walk over to them, now standing at your brother's side. "Captain Ginyu." You speak with your hands, an exaggerated smile appearing on your lips. "To what do we owe the honor?"

The man looks down at you, clearly analyzing you with his scouter. "Well, if this isn't a surprise. I think this is the first time I've had the pleasure of meeting you, Y/N." Ginyu extends his large hand out to you, causing Vegeta to feel a great deal of alarm. Your brother's body has gone tense with an apprehensive look on his face. But when your older brother looks over to you, there isn't even a glint of fear in your eyes. You're calm, almost as if one of Lord Frieza's deadliest warriors was not standing before you. You accept the Captain's hand, presenting him with a short but polite handshake. "Your father doesn't like showing you off much, does he?"

You chuckle softly. "My father likes to hold his cards close to his chest. I'm sure a man like yourself is quite similar." Sucking up to Ginyu is not your favorite pastime, but it needs to be done. And every Saiyan on this planet knows your big brother is far too prideful to do it himself.

Ginyu looks between you and Vegeta carefully. For someone so highly regarded by Frieza, he sure isn't subtle. He's trying to read your facial expressions. Unfortunately for him, your father has raised you both much better than that. A poker face to you feels more natural than a genuine expression. "Speaking of your father, where is he right now?"

"He's of---"

You quickly cut Vegeta off. "He's in a meeting. That's why our father sent me out. He wanted you to know he sends his regards, but his hands are tied at the moment. He will be here at soon as possible. I hope my brother and I can suffice your needs in the meantime."

Captain Ginyu eyes you skeptically, tilting his head at you ever so slightly. "That sounds serious. I hope it's nothing too pressing."

"Of course not. It's nothing my father can't handle."

You're about to continue your schmoozing, but you're stopped by Vegeta aggressively yanking on your arm. "We need to talk-- in private."

You grimace at your brother's words. He just always has to make everything that much more difficult for you. You turn back to Ginyu, offering the man a cheerful smile. "Will you excuse us for a moment? We'll be right back."

Vegeta drags you around a corner, concealing you both from Ginyu's prying eyes. "What do you think you're doing?" He huffs at you in a whisper. "I had everything under control."

You snicker, crossing your arms. "You were just about to tell Ginyu that our father was off-planet. It sounds to me like I got here just in time to prevent you from making a grave mistake."

"I don't see why that matters."

"And that's the issue, Vegeta. Now we don't have time for this. Let's go." You turn back around, walking back over to Ginyu, Vegeta trailing not far behind. "I'd like to apologize for my brother's rudeness, Captain Ginyu." You shake your head but with a slight smirk across your lips. "All Saiyan men are the same, and my brother is no exception. They're incredibly thickheaded and quite savage. I'm convinced they don't even realize what brutes they are." You watch your brother ball his hands up into fists from beside you. It fills you with an immense feeling of joy knowing you're getting under Vegeta's skin for once. You turn back to Ginyu, plastering that disingenuous grin on your face. "Now, how about we give you a tour of our wonderful planet?"

You and Vegeta have shown Ginyu around almost the entirety of your planet, and you must admit you're beginning to grow worried. Luckily you've managed to hold off any more questions about your father's whereabouts by charming him with various facts about planet Vegeta. But to be honest, you're not sure how much longer you can hold up this charade for. You've exhausted pretty much every idea that you've been able to come up with.

"Captain Ginyu!" Your father's brash voice invades your ears as you turn around to finally see the man you've been anxiously waiting for. You've never seen your father walk in such an urgent manner, and it's pretty funny watching your twin struggling to keep up with your father's pace.

Your father places himself between you and Vegeta, ruffling your hair affectionately. You look up at him. "How'd your meeting go?"

Your father meets your gaze, catching onto your deception almost immediately. "It went very well. Thank you both for keeping Captain Ginyu company in my absence, but I think I can handle it from here." He directs his attention back onto Captain Ginyu. "Now, how about we discuss you're abrupt arrival somewhere more private."

The two men exit your field of view, leaving the three of you alone. Tarble, in his typical fashion, glues himself to your side. "What the hell was that?" Vegeta spits out with venom. "Where was your pride? You were basically groveling at his feet."

You furrow your brows at him. "I was doing what needed to be done. And if you think our father isn't currently doing the same thing, you're a bigger fool than I thought."

"I know our father is being more agreeable with him, but not at the cost of his pride."

"It's always about pride with you." You step closer to Vegeta, closing the distance between you. "Your pride today would have cost the loss of countless lives today, Vegeta."

"Then so be it. If there are Saiayn's that inadequate on our planet, we should probably just exterminate them now. It'll save us the hassle later on."

You snicker, shaking your head at Vegeta. "Some King you'll be." You turn to your twin. "Let's go, Tarble. I have no desire to be near our foolish brother right now."

The conversation between Captain Ginyu and your father was brief. It was a very anticlimactic ending to the naked eye. The briefness of this encounter only set off more alarm bells in King Vegeta's head. It was clear to the man that Ginyu's excuse for being on his planet was bullshit. He's just not quite sure what the captain's intentions were, but he sure as hell is going to find out.

As soon as Ginyu left planet Vegeta, he promptly set course for his next destination. He's headed straight to Lord Frieza to report his findings, and he's eager to do so.

Ginyu arrives on the planet in record time, heading straight for the throne room. Ginyu kneels before Frieza, waiting for his boss to speak. "Captain Ginyu. You're sure back early. I trust you were able to gather enough information on the young prince."

Captain Ginyu nods enthusiastically. "Of course, Lord Frieza. The Price was exactly the same as the previous data we collected on him. He's powerful and quite intelligent for a Saiyan. Though, he did inherit that nasty temper from his father."

Frieza sighs. "How disappointing."

"But I did discover something that you may find interesting, Lord Frieza."

Frieza tilts his head at the man. He can't help but feel intrigued. "Go on." It's not that easy for him to find an advantage over those monkeys, so he'll take any information Ginyu can give him, no matter how minuscule.

"Y/N--- King Vegeta's daughter piqued my interest greatly. She's not even close to as strong as her brother, but she's remarkably clever. She's very good with words, she knows how to manipulate people. I'd say she might even be better than King Vegeta himself."

"Now, that is fascinating. Good work, Ginyu. I'll look into the Princess's abilities more in-depth later. You're excused."

This is just something I felt the need to clarify: So in this chapter's flashback, Vegeta is around three, and Y/N and Tarble are about two. In my head, I picture children on planet Vegeta behaving like miniature adults. My idea is once they leave their chambers (the tanks they are raised in to get their basic Saiyan instincts under control), their minds are fully grown, but their physical growth is quite delayed. That's why they curse and stuff. I have a minuscule window of time to squash in all of my plot ideas. So this was the best way to do so.

#goku #goku x reader #saiyan reader #vegeta #vegeta's sister #DBZ Fanfiction #dbz x reader #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball z #the princess of all saiyans

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inyourwildestdreamslove · 3 years

Text

Tell Me No Secrets: Chapter 9

Pairing: Steve Harrington X Reader X Billy Hargrove

Begins in Season 2.

Summary: You thought you escaped the world of science experiments and torture when you walk out of that lab. However, high school has other plans, somehow you end up as unlikely friends and love interests to the two most desired boys in school. Not to mention monsters from another dimension and a little girl named El from your past that just won’t seem to leave you alone. Maybe that lab wasn’t as bad as you thought, at least there people left you alone.

Masterlist

Chapter 9: The Captured

The trees are a blur as the car roars forward. The bewildered and angry faces of Dustin and Steve in the rearview mirror sparks a twinge of guilt. It’s better this way though, they don’t need to be involved. It’s bad enough that Max and Billy are involved. Groaning as the two men in the car pull out behind Billy but in front of Steve. You can feel how startled Steve is and his growing panic as he realizes what’s happening.

Billy glances behind him and growls out, “Friends of yours?”

“Something like that…” you say absentmindedly as you assess the situation behind you.

Realizing that they have far more information than you would like punches you in the gut as town quickly approaches.

You make a decision.

“Pull over.”

The order hangs in the air.

“Are you crazy?!” Max yells, pulling herself forward in the seat, “They’ll catch you!”

“That’s the point,” you say emotionlessly as you regard her.

“No!”

“What is going on here!?” Billy yells angrily beside you.

“They’re going to take her!” Max screams turning to Billy, “You can’t stop! She’s going to give herself up to save us!”

“Fuck that,” Billy says as he revs the engine and makes an abrupt turn to the right. The car behind you all skids but makes the turn at the last minute.

“You need to let me do this,” you say calmly.

“Like Hell I do!” he says rage in his voice.

You huff in annoyance, “They will succeed, if not today, someday.”

“Then it’s not going to be today,” Billy says, taking another abrupt turn trying to throw them off your trail.

“You need to let me do this,” you say matter of factly.

The alleyway you find yourselves in is a dead end. Billy curses and slams his hands on the steering wheel as you get out of the car.

“No!” Max yells as you exit the car, Billy reaching for you a moment too late.

You turn to the men, each of them pointing a gun at you. Steve pulls up behind them a moment later and grabs his bat from the back seat.

“Steve… Don’t…” you murmur tiredly.

“They can’t have you!” Steve yells.

“It’s okay…” you soothe them.

“So you’re coming quietly?” questions one of the men.

“Yes.”

“Good choice,” the other murmurs as he pulls the trigger.

The panic from those around you is palpable as you fall to the floor the dart sticking out of your neck. Steve and Billy make to run towards you before they turn to the men and to rush them.

With the last of your strength your message echoes in their minds, “Don’t forget…”

***

Horror fills them as they watch her fall to the ground. Her eyes roll back into her head and everything goes silent before the rush of rage brings everyone snapping back to reality. Billy pulls back and punches the nearest man as a tranquilizer dart flies towards him. Steve falls next his bat rolling uselessly to the side. Max and Dustin panic and scream as they rush to Steve and Billy.

Max whips around in just enough time to see the two men haul her up and throw her limp body in the back seat of the car. Methodically, as if kidnapping is second nature to these monsters, they move Steve’s car. Dustin is struggling to pull Steve out of the way.

Max cries out in sadness, feeling helpless, as her friend vanished from sight around the bend. She’s left with her unconscious brother and a panicking Dustin.

“What do we do!?” Yells Dustin snapping Max from her shock.

“I don’t know!” She yells back, anger masking her fear.

“We have to do something!” Dustin yells as he paces back and forth. He would periodically rake his fingers through his hair.

“Like what!?” Max screeches back fists flying to her side in rage and frustration.

With no small amount of effort the two preteens drag their older and heavier brother figures into Billy’s car. The two young men are slumped together unceremoniously in the back seat as Max takes the wheel of Billy’s car.

“Are you sure about this?” Dustin asks, hesitation clear in his voice. The memory of the last time Max drove clear in his mind.

“Zoomer. Remember?,” She says pointing at herself in confidence, “Besides, you didn’t die last time,” she says flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“It was dark last time! No one was on the road! It’s the middle of the morning!” Dustin argues crossing his arms.

“Stop being such a baby! It’ll be fine!” She exclaims, frustration seeping into her voice.

With that, she starts up the car and nervously pulls out onto the road. Slowly the preteens make their way to the police station. Not without many near misses and loud honks of other drivers.

The preteens jump from the vehicle and rush into the police station yelling for Hopper as they do so.

“What are you two doing here? Why aren’t you in school?” Hopper asks in bewilderment coming out of his office. The receptionist unable to control the duo before her.

“They took (Name)!” Both Max and Dustin yell in a panic turning towards the confused chief of police.

***

When you wake up you are strapped to a chair with a helmet over your head. Your head is completely silent for the first time in your life, and if you weren’t concerned with figuring a way out of this, you would be enjoying it more. The room is dark save for the single fluorescent light in the very center of the room. There are one-way windows on one side of the room and you can practically feel the eyes of the people on the other side.

A man that you recognize from your childhood enters the room and regards you as a science experiment. He’s wearing a brown suit with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. He hasn’t changed much except for the now graying hair on his balding head.

“Three… How have you been? You are quite the sneaky little thing aren’t you?” he asks conversationally as he sits down across from you at the table.

Your answer is an emotionless gaze. You can feel yourself retreating back into your mind as the man in front of you regards you the same way as so many years ago. Like an experiment, as if you are less than him.

“Where have you been hiding all this time, hmmm? With Melanie Snow perhaps?” he quips pulling the cigarette from his lips. The smell burns your nostrils as he releases a puff of smoke.

You feel your chest constrict as he mentions her name.

“I see you’ve made friends with a Steve Harrington? A Dustin Henderson? A Maxine Mayfield? A William Hargrove?”

“They aren’t my friends, they are annoyances,” you answer monotonously.

“Annoyances?” he sounds almost amused.

“Yes… If it wasn’t for them your lackeys would be dead,” you spit the words at the man fire in your eyes as you regard him coolly.

“Dead, you say? You would do that?” he asks leaning forward on his elbows.

“I’m not a child anymore,” your voice is ice.

“No… I suppose not… However, we will be picking up where we left off. Perhaps we will see the results that we want after all this time.”

With that, he gets up and leaves the room. You keep your mind calm and clear as you access the situation you are in.

It’s not long before a couple of men in white come into the room and push you from the chair. Their handling is far rougher than it should be as you walk down the hallway. You can hear the cries of a few children, but you keep your face void of any emotion. The room they take you to is the same one from your childhood. You see the number three on the wall and suppress a shudder. You are shoved inside, but before the door is shut you turn to the man behind you and lock eyes with him.

“You know… cheating on your wife when she’s pregnant with your child is disgusting.”

The look on his face as the door closes is priceless.

***

“We have to help her!” yells Dustin as he paces the living room floor of (Name)’s house.

“Can Elle find her?” questions Steve his hand in his hair as he sits on the couch.

“Damnit!” curses Billy as he punches the arm of the chair he’s in, “What good is this?”

Steve and Billy had woken up in a panic upon realizing what happened. They had given their statement to Hopper, who had been very displeased that Max had driven to the police station while the boys were unconscious, but that’s a talk for another day. They went to break the news to Melanie which is how they found themselves setting up camp in the Snow living room.

“Hey just calm down man! We’re going to figure something out!” Clenching his teeth against the pain in his head. The tranquilizer making his head pound with the leftover drugs still coursing through him.

“Well, what can this Elle girl do?” he rounds on him anger radiating off of his person.

“More than you!” yells Dustin.

“Hey! Yelling about everything isn’t going to solve this!” yells Max.

“She’s right…” laments Melanie, “She’s going to have to get herself out of this.”

“But Elle can-” Dustin begins.

“She would be putting herself in danger!” Hopper interrupts, “You don’t know how they found her, they could do the same to Elle.”

“We can’t just do nothing!” yells Billy as he stands up from his seat and takes a step towards Hopper.

“I’m not risking Elle being found. That doesn’t mean we aren’t going to do anything.” Hopper holds his stare until Billy backs down.

“Why do you care anyway?” Dustin asks looking over at Billy in confusion.

“Why do I-?” he looks angrily at Dustin, “Because-” He trails off looking unsure of himself for just a moment before his anger covers it up. “None of your business twerp!”

“Will everyone just calm down?” Yells Hopper trying to maintain peace.

“How?! How are we supposed to do that?” Asks Dustin shaking his head in frustration.

“Can someone just do something?!” screeches Melanie before she collapses to the floor crying.

Everyone is silent as they regard her, each of them thinking the same thing...

‘But what can we do?’

***

The next few days you sit quietly in your old room listening. Your powers while not entirely snuffed out are muffled and it isn’t long until the helmet is replaced with another stronger one. You don’t mind as much they think you do as you feign sleep all the while listening.

It’s in sleep that you feel him though. He’s frantic and angry and feels very alone.

You can’t blame yourself for this. You say calmly regarding him.

His eyes widen when he sees you sitting there on his bed.

“You got out?!” he says getting up and coming towards you.

No… I am still there…

“How are you able to…?”

We have a connection Billy… Perhaps it’s our emotions that bind us… We understand hurt better than most…

“You let them take you!” he explodes, “You could have fought them! We could have fought them! Max is… Max is really upset! And damn Harrington! He- Damn it!” He yells angrily picking up a can of hairspray and throwing it against the wall.

It had to happen…

“No, it didn’t! I could have… done something... protected you…” He sits down on the bed defeated, his elbows resting on his knees.

You’re silent for a moment, ‘There are bigger things at play than you understand. They would not stop and I had to think of more than just myself…’

“Bullshit.”

Tell them not to worry…

“Not to worry?!” he yells, “You’ve been captured by some freak show scientists, and no one is supposed to worry?!” he jumps up from the bed and towers over you breathing heavily in his rage.

You regard him silently with the same patience that you always have.

Trust me…

With that, you vanish from his mind. Blinking you are abruptly woken up by the sound of a little metal flap swinging as food is shoved into your cell. You sigh as you glare at the hard bread and porridge that is sitting in the bowl. It’s important that you keep your strength up though it’s imperative to your plan. You pick up the tray and begin to eat.

***

“What do you mean you saw her?” Steve asks, disbelief clear in his voice. He hadn’t been sure what to think when Billy asked to meet him behind the school, but this wasn’t what he expected.

“I told you! I saw her okay?! I don’t get it either!” Billy yells all while trying to keep his voice down. He doesn’t need anyone seeing him and Harrington talking behind the school, too many questions.

“But why did you see her and not me? I’m her friend!” Steve says defensively and maybe a little jealously. Why were you talking to Billy and not him?

“I’m her friend too! You aren’t the only one!”

“Yeah right! What have you ever done for her huh?”

“She-” Billy looks away from Steve. He can’t know…

“She what?” Steve presses, voice going lower in a warning.

“None of your business! Look, I just wanted to know if that makes any sense to you!”

“I mean… she’s special… you know…” Steve says uncertainty clear in his voice.

“Yeah, I know she is…” Billy says remembering the day you casually told him you were going to help him.

“So what do we do?” Steve asks.

“She said to trust her…” Billy says trailing off in thought.

“If she contacts you again see if she knows where she is. We’re going to get her back,” Steve says with finality. “Truce?” he asks holding his hand out to Billy.

Billy regards it for a moment before he nods, “Truce.”

The two young men clasp hands in a firm handshake, both trying to have a tighter grip as they shake on it.

“What are you trying to do? Break my hand?!” Steve yells.

“You’re such a wuss Harrington!” Billy laughs as he pulls back.

“Wuss?! You face a Demogorgon and tell me who the wuss is!”

“What the fuck is a Demogorgon?”

“You have a lot to learn Hargrove. A lot.”

***

You feel yourself growing stronger every day. And among the quiet in your mind, you’ve noticed something else. You can tap into emotions and you spend the next few days wreaking havoc on the workers of the lab. You cause anger outbursts, crying spells, and lust to run rampant. Papers are thrown to the floor in a rage and balled up in fits of uncertainty. You plant lies in their minds with the simplest of sentences. If you didn’t know any better you would say you’re having fun.

“It seems we’ve underestimated you…” Carl Watt says from his position in front of you. He adjusts the button on his ugly suit jacket as he sits down before you.

You just regard him blankly as silence rings throughout the room.

“You have caused quite a few problems for us. Are you having fun?” he asks patiently as if speaking to his six-year-old daughter who made a mess in the kitchen.

You gaze down at the steel table in front of you, eyes unseeing as you creep in his mind.

“If you don’t cooperate there will be consequences.”

Again you are silent at his threat.

“After all we wouldn’t want anything to happen to your friends would we?”

You fight the reaction. The flinch. The twitch. The way your mind screams at the man before you in rage. You give him nothing as you continue to gaze down at the table, the silence stretching long and cold in the sterile room.

“You think you’re fooling anyone? Teenage girls are so easy. You all have the same weakness. Emotions. Boys. Attention. You are not nearly as complex as you believe you are.”

You finally raise your head to look squarely in his eyes, your own void of any emotion as you regard him.

“You think you’re fooling anyone?” You mimic, “Men are so easy. You all have the same weakness. Power. Lust. Control. You are not nearly as complex as you believe you are.”

Carl looks enraged as his fist flies onto the table. Instead of flinching as he wanted, you merely tilt your head to one side and regard him in boredom.

“And you said teenage girls are emotional. You should really have better control than that,” you say calmly.

“Get her out of here,” he says through clenched teeth.

Walking back to your cell you sense it suddenly. A tickle in your mind. You snap your head to the side and hear it plain as day.

They know.

They found it.

The door. The door. The door!

There is panic in the words and in the mind.

He’s fourteen with dark hair and wild green eyes. You remember him vaguely from when you were here before.

Show!

You collapse as the boy enters your mind and you are thrown into a dream.

Billy is in a car accident. He’s pulled into a void. The screams are too much.

You try to pull away from him. To break away from his hold on you.

Bait.

The creature that fills the sky is terrifying. Black and everywhere. It fills your mind and you know in your heart that this isn’t over. That the Upside Down is beating at the door.

Wait…

You gasp as you are thrown back into your head. The haunted green eyes of the boy down the hall filling your vision.

“Get up!” yells the guard.

You are kicked roughly in the side as you double over again. The other reaches down and grabs your hair dragging you up to your feet.

“Not so tough without your powers are you?” spits the guard.

You blink and reorient yourself before you wipe the blood from your nose. You can feel him at the edge of your conscience.

Bad men… bad…

‘Yes…’ you think to him, ‘Bad men…’

Out?

He pauses for a breath as you are thrown back into your cell.

Out out out???

‘Soon.’

The thought seems to soothe him as his mind quiets and he drifts off to sleep. Vaguely, you wonder if he even knows how to talk. His mind is less fragmented than you originally thought though. You can use that to your advantage.

***

Billy opens his eyes to see you standing before him.

I need you to be ready.

“For what?” he asks instantly alert and sitting up, “Ready for what?”

The moment I expose them…

“What do you need us to do?”

The old base is where I’m being kept. Elle knows where. I will need a distraction in precisely three days’ time. You need to listen very carefully to my instructions. In a glass bottle mix carbon disulfide, phosphorus, and sulfur with a metal lid. This solution is highly flammable if exposed to air.

“What do you want us to do with that?”

I want to burn this place to the ground.

Notes:

I know! Such a long time coming! Concentrating has been difficult even with inspiration for this story! The next chapter will probably be the final chapter for this story, but never fear! I'll begin work on "I'll Tell You No Lies" the sequel to this story set in S3 of Stranger Things! There may be a little short in between this story and that one because I have such affection for this weird triangle between MC, Billy, and Steve. Please drop a comment to tell me your thoughts!

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #steve harrington x reader x billy hargrove #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x you #steve harington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things series #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fandom #love triangle #healing #i'm fixing this #you're welcome

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rare-yanderes · 3 years

Text

(F/H) =favorite hobby.

I have the weirdest crush on this freaking duck and I don’t know why, so I’m taking out my confusion on this matter by making him yandere. Sorry that this is so long, boring and slow but I’m a sucker for slow burns and just dislike instant love. This went from just from headcannons to a freaking long ass story. I think I’ll make more on how the reader reacts when they find out just how mentally fucked Scrooge became.

Who knows, maybe I’ll write one for good ol’ Flinty. I have a feeling he’d just drop kick any rival he spots without much qualms about it. Meanwhile, Scrooge has a full on psychological derailment.

TW: manipulation, dependent behavior, stalking, and more.

______________

•To be honest, the likelyhood of Scrooge turning into a yandere might be higher than you think. He’s capable of self defense and can fight. He literally hunts treasure for a living. He also has a trillion dollar stockpile sitting around begging to be used for cover ups. His determination is pretty crazy, and he’s seen a lot on his adventures, things that would kind of instill a paranoia over time or an unhealthy me mentality. He can easily hide behind a professional front. Oh, and if he so wanted, he could travel and bury any evidence under a volcano. :)

•Since this is a yandere AU or, I’m gonna go with the idea that this is a what if the show had a TV-14 rating as well, so much darker themes can link and be explored.

•After pretty much a century of adventure, most of which includes violence and fighting through perils, human or not so, Scrooge is desensitized to quite a bit of violence and the dark and greedy side of the world. He’s seen the best of people and also the worst. This plays majorly in anyone who becomes a yandere; how exposed they are to people’s bad side or their own dark tendencies.

•Scrooge himself is not perfect and has demonstrated some traits of greediness, paranoia, and general distrustful behavior which is perfectly reasonable considering his work and the things he exposes himself too during it.

•Even though he loves adventure, there are a lot of bad things that happen on them that he seems to bottle up or keep to himself. Bottling up things causes a negative buildup in anyone, especially Scrooge because he expects that loving his life’s work will repair the same damage it sometimes does to him.

•Most likely, Scrooge developed an affinity with you through your similar drive for adventure. Maybe you worked for him in some way and he saw you defend someone or maybe you outsmarted one of his adversaries on an adventure he decided to bring you on. Regardless, you’ve caught his attention and this is only the beginning.

•A rival love interest’s biggest mistake is mistaking his age for a weakness. One minute he’s complaining about someone being on his lawn, the other they’re buried under it.

•Scrooge would probably connect most if he’s seen that you used to be in his shoes before, or at least a similar situation. Maybe you’re struggling financially but working your ass off to stabilize your income. As someone with the humble origins of a shoeshiner, Scrooge understands perfectly. Despite his incredible stockpile of wealth, he knows what’s it’s like to be at rock bottom.

•At first, you’re probably obviously very suprised with Scrooge’s involvement in your life. He’s from an entirely different world than yours after all, the top of the pyramid. Depending on your origins, you might react quite differently. Currently, you managed to find yourself stuck in a job you hated, working for someone you despised. It was a miserable, repetitive job that brought to your life a void of boredom.

•You craved adrenaline, even if it would get you killed, you finally figured that at least you’d go out with a spark. Putting on a smiling face, you accept a position at McDuck industries thinking that it was going to be another office job. By your luck, (or, later on, unfortunate luck), you managed to score a position that required you to be near Scrooge quite often.

•This gave both of you time to acquaint with eachother and the opportunity for him to see the potential in you as an adventurer instead of just an employee. Scrooge rarely lets people in beyond family, and is quite reserved so he himself questions what he sees in you at first, distrusting you even.

•When you are taken on your first adventure, you nearly boil over with eagerness. There’s a worry at first of the treachery involved but eventually, as you venture on more and more explorations, that fear dulls and you think the adrenaline as far more important than the possible loss of your life.

•Craving adrenaline is the main reason at first as to why you to want to stay around Scrooge. Despite his repeated attempts to brush or push you away, you find yourself excited every time you get to explore and finally get to see a world that you thought you’d never visit.

•Still, Scrooge remains cold and you can’t figure out why beyond the reason that he’s just a pessimistic old capitalist. As much as you want the adrenaline, you kinda can’t help but eventually enjoy his presence as well despite his temper and general grumpiness. Having been alone for over two decades without friends does that to someone. You needed warmth again.

•Maybe you grew attached to all the times you felt you were winning when you snubbed an artifact. Also, after collecting and sneaking a few gold coins into your own pocket, you were finally getting out of debt and on track to actually start your own business involving (F/H). You had the dream that you could travel where you wanted and finally find peace from your own mind and problems.

•Scrooge, despite his own warnings to himself not to persue, can’t help but offer you a job working for him. You made adventuring a million times better and were a great addition to the team, providing your own perspective or plan for the times he and his family would journey out. Oh, and he’d finally get the opportunity to be around you more. It was refreshing to see how optimistic you managed to remain despite your current financial predicament. (Which he contemplated solving.)

•Soon, however, Scrooge began to see that you were not as happy go lucky as you pretended to be, at least not when you weren’t on another treasure hunt. Something appeared to be gnawing at you. Deep down inside, it appeared to plague you and Scrooge began to worry for your well being and as a too curious for his own good duck, he needed to know what was going on. Especially when he had caught you quickly wiping away tears while you began to head home. What could possibly be causing you this pain?

•He had to find out and to his own realization, he had to know now. After all the times you saved and helped him, he wanted to make sure you were at least doing alright in return. He ordered Launchpad to tail you home and Launchpad, oh so very loyal, doesn’t question it much.

•Most yanderes might suffer from the constant delusion that their victims love them back or that they’re in the right but that’s not the case with Scrooge. There are times where he does try to justify himself, but this is mainly due to a fit of rage or to play innocent to you. Most of the time, he knows his actions are wrong and the burning temptation is causing a war. Very early on, he suppresses his curiosity and the growing feelings he has about you. Especially when they begin to boil into something far darker. Although he’s done this to nearly everyone, being cold to you and pushing you away seemed to be his way of trying to ensure your well being instead of his. He was finding it hard not to think about you sometimes.

•Soon enough though, he begins to grow inquisitive about your personal life as you open up to him and define yourself as a person instead of another blur. You were always quite genuine to just sit around and talk to him and despite denying it to himself, Scrooge was lonely, especially after the Spear of Selene. Sometimes you’d joke to him, sometimes you’d think philosophically. Sometimes it was just a mutual, comfortable silence.

•Scrooge might make excuses aloud to you, but doesn’t lie to himself. All the times he’s made you work later or given you an extra dose of paperwork was because he wanted to keep you around and in his line of sight. 12 hours without you was turning into a painful reminder of how isolated he was, even with Beakley around. You were a warmth, a cool, calm warmth.

• “I’ll eventually need to know her address later on in case she’s attacked by one of my adversaries anyways.” Nope, Scrooge wasn’t fooling himself with that sentiment. He knew he was invading your privacy, but he also knew that he was too nosy to care enough.

•The main problem is that although Scrooge knows a lot of what he’s doing isn’t right, he begins to care less and less. (Though this process takes quite a while.) You’re a valuable and positive part of his life, you had stayed when everyone else had abandoned him for his admittedly awful mistakes. He can’t lose another person he treasures. Especially not you. You’re becoming the shiniest yet. Losing you might mean losing himself in some sense.

•Scrooge tries to shake off the guilt but only finds that maybe it’s better to punish himself by feeling it. He’s currently following along your path to wherever your destination currently is.

•Of course, his iconic shiny limousine would be a sore thumb sticking out to both you, the media, and Duckberg in general so he makes sure to either trail far behind or to have another mode of transportation available. Regardless, Scrooge never hires another person to watch you in place.

•Scrooge doesn’t even install cameras. He’d rather experience your life from his own two eyes and not as reported from another bird or screen. He rather liked tracking you himself. It gave him a place to go and at least he’d be able to bask in your duality himself. Sometimes you cried, he found to his own breaking heart. Sometimes you’d smile, (mostly only in his presence, to his delight.)

•Most of all, though, you seem caught in the present of life. Distracted, even. It seems though, that sometimes you’re so distracted that you don’t even notice something is off. Or maybe you yourself are too unable to break the cycle of adrenaline adventure to see it. Maybe you yourself were actively creating excuses, at least at first as to why you sometimes ran into Scrooge McDuck everywhere.

•If there’s something else Scrooge is a master at other than money, it’s with keeping up the detached and reserved persona of a wealthy individual. After all, who would suspect him of such crimes like these? He’s just a selfish, greedy businessman that only cares about his wealth, right? He’d never bother with other birds unless he was shaking hands at a conference table.

•Wrong. As you and him grow to become more like mentor and student, Scrooge begins to insert himself everywhere he possible can in your life, especially after seeing the shitfest that was your social group, what little of it there was. Apparently, you’d finally made a few friends over the years working for him and there was only one out of all of them that Scrooge approved of.

•Two of them, both identical Peacock twins appeared to be fascinated with your link to him and nothing more. It made some sense. After all, who could say they were a close worker to the richest duck in the world? The other one, a tall and lanky chicken, was getting far too handsy with you, and the final, a feline male was nothing but gossip and drama.

•To add to insult, you were a pretty big pushover outside of work which meant that they would drag you to places you didn’t even want to go and pressure you to have drinks you didn’t want to taste. They were in love with the mask you put up, not the complex and amazing face behind it. The one that you were beginning to let Scrooge see.

• Scrooge watches from a distance as your laugh reverberates. The laugh appears to Scrooge as unwavered and solid, mechanical in nature like it was a reoccurring script. Gazing at your face, he could see that your smile was strained, beak scrunched. You just wanted to go home and nothing more.

•The chicken next to you he was sucking a cigarette and the smoke blew in your direction, replacing your laugh with coughing and the others cackled with drunk glee, their solo cups tipping as they did. You blew it off as an accidental push in the wind which, by the way, wasn’t even blowing.

•Out of all of them, Scrooge hated the lanky chicken, who’s name he learned was Gale, the most. You deserved far better than that. Surely you saw through his sleazy act, right? Why were you hanging around such a ratched group of birds? Just how blind were you to their usage of you?

•Almost without even realizing it himself, Scrooge had tailed you the entire way home. After having to torment himself with an hour of seeing you torment yourself, he figured that maybe you’d find something that made you happy other thanyour little flock of “friends.”

•So he was admitting to being a stalker to himself. Did that mean he’d be able to admit it to oblivious ol’ you? Well, no. At least, not for now. Not until you trust him completely. Oh well, he’ll never go further than then that, right? He was watching you, but not engaging in any way. Nothing worse could come out of it..

•Wrong.

•After a while of having you working under him at McDuck Industries, Scrooge began to realize just how much financial control he had over you. Not only did you depend on him cod for paycheck, your landlord worked for someone who worked for him. In other words, the spot of land you were living on was an apartment company that belonged to him. You were living under one of his roofs. All he’d have to do was shift some circumstances and you’d either be homeless or debt free forever. Scrooge of course, plays the benevolent route and lowers it significantly for you. Why antagonize you?

•After having taken that action, Scrooge noticed more and more of a smile on your face as you realized that you didn’t have to depend paycheck to paycheck for food on the table. He had also been aware that you had a side hobby now, involving (F/H.) sometimes you joked you’d start a business and go off parting ways with that hobby. It was source of entertainment to watch you be..Well, you. There was this genuine behavior about you that just drew him in.

•If Scrooge wasn’t adventuring with you or at a meeting also with you, he was still with you. You just didn’t know it yet. Interestingly however, you’d begun to pick up the signs that there was a presence in your life. Whereas you didn’t close the blinds before, you did now. Or maybe that was from all the adventures you’d nearly died on fighting others off. Maybe it was paranoia.

•Eventually, Scrooge managed to break into your apartment under the guise to Launchpad that he’d been invited by you. A ludicrous lie, of course, but Launchpad is gullible to a fault when it comes to Scrooge. He’s loyal like that, and his friendliness to you plays into Scrooge’s emotional manipulation later on.

•As Scrooge sneaks in while you’re still home, he makes his way behind the kitchen counter which seperated your living room. He didn’t expect you to be right there in the living room, but you were, just five feet away from him and the window he snuck in. The window was to your right. He had carefully parted the curtains. Your couch was sitting approximately five feet from the window balcony, facing a corner of the wall with the T.V off.

•Peculiarly, you hadn’t even noticed he’d entered by rigging the door. You were right there, not staring at his direction, but he should have at least appeared in your peripheral. Just what were you doing to be so disconnected to the reality around you? It was worrying.

•Now hidden behind the counter directly to the left of you, he observes your desensitized form. For a moment, Scrooge thought you were a corpse until he peered closer. You were still there, physically. Mentally you looked as if you were in a whole other dimension. In a rather bold move, Scrooge slowly stands up and positions himself in the archway, watching you from his spot.

•You were still, so very still unlike all the times you’d fidget at work or with those “friends.” You still breathed and your hands shook slightly and there was color to your eyes but you yourself didn’t even seem present whatsoever. Your eyes were glazed and far away. It was just your body sitting there in that couch. It was worrisome and yet there was a blissful smile to your face seconds later.

•It was you, daydreaming about something. Something you obviously enjoyed. Scrooge, to his own shame, hoped it involved him. For a few more moments, all you did was sigh like you were meditating. It was haunting how easily you had lost yourself within the confines of your tumbling mind. Somehow, you were blocking out the world beyond, maladaptively.

• Scrooge knew he was taking a huge risk. All you’d have to do to spot him now was swivel your head a few inches or wake up from dreamland. It would take a few inches to ruin what you thought of him.

Just then, to Scrooge’s horror, you had slowly picked yourself off the couch. Your body shuttered as your head snapped up. He knew he was taking a huge risk with this and began to think that maybe it was a terrible idea after all. (Who was he kidding, it was terrible in the first place, he knew what he was doing.)

•He quickly fell back to his crouched position behind the counter, silently and expertly as you turned around and made your way closer and closer. There was a tense moment in which Scrooge contemplated just knocking you down completely and rendering you unconscious. All it would take was a few seconds. Maybe you’d forget or maybe he’d give you the dreamland you seemed so desperate to reach. It would certainly give him peace of mind to know where you are 24/7..All he’d have to do is knock you out and take you to the manor. You’d be secure and have everything you need there…

•Your presence was setting him alight, in the good way and bad way. He loved being near you. But hated the idea of you getting any closer right now, because you getting any closer would ruin your trust in him entirely. A few more steps is all there was between the idol you saw Scrooge as and the monster he was growing to be. You were like a fire. The heat scorched his feathers. Then, when you were away, his thoughts.

•Your steps were louder than they’d ever been. Then, to Scrooge’s unbelievable luck, you turned towards the hallway away from the kitchen. Scrooge knew not to push his luck trying to follow or stay, so despite his clawing urge to figure you out, he hesitantly snuck out with unanswered questions on your concerning mental state.

•It had been a months since that incident and Scrooge was moving onto bigger and bolder actions. Sometimes he’d swipe you away from any conversations you had with your friends by calling you in for a task. Sometimes he’d eat up all your time by keeping you in late, and taking you to places far away that required days of travel.

•Sometimes he’d drive bad influences away by financially ruining their life forever.

You noticed Gale’s downfall quickly, but you didn’t have any idea it was Scrooge who was responsible. Gale lived actually, three complexes from you and oh so suddenly, rent had begun to skyrocket in the particular room he had to himself. This led to him being presented with an eviction notice. You didn’t even have the chance to say goodbye. (Not that you wanted to, though.) deep down you were glad he was gone and Scrooge knew it. Gale had to move far off to find an affordable spot. It was a mercy considering how often Scrooge had dreamed of just throwing him into the ocean tied up for the sharks to find. He was a toxic influence.

•Maybe if someone pushed his button just right, Scrooge would end up killing them, and who would care? There were seven billion fellow people on the planet. Scrooge could just get rid of any threat he wanted and no one would notice or ever suspect it was him. After all, he’s just a grumpy old man with a cane.

•It turns out, Scrooge had picked up on your plans to possibly quit your job. He had never felt his heart sink like it did now. He was fighting off his initial shock as you stood in his office, masking it with a detached face. You hadn’t even confirmed the statement. All you’d said was that maybe you’d found a company within your favorite hobby.

•It was just a small implication. But, Implications could become statements, which could turn into actions, and Scrooge couldn’t let the thought even be a presence in your mind.

•You had stayed with him throughout the years of his loneliest moments, had confessed secrets, had confided in him. You were like his pupil, learning from him and you were like his partner, fighting alongside him. Maybe you were something different altogether.

•...Was it a friend that convinced you? It had to be. Scrooge knew how much you enjoyed galavanting around the world with him. There’s no way you’d just fly off without him.-

“I promise I’ll still occasionally go with you, Scrooge. (A first name basis. This was devolving from anything normal.) I found my passion. We can still adventure together, but I found a path that also makes me happy and doesn’t ya know, get me killed.” You chuckle as if it were nothing. A light joke.

•So you were leaving. You were going to go. Why? You had a great paycheck, (an expensive one that took a lot of money,) you had the opportunity to travel the world. You had the best job you’d ever get. Who else was going to be as good as him? He won’t let you destroy your future by applying for a Mediocre position at some dumptruck company.

•As it turns out, the bird responsible for swaying you was none other than one of the peacocks, her name was Shelby. She and you laughed, and for the first time, your laugh was genuine. Genuine with her and not with Scrooge. You both shared each other’s stories, and she in return had encouraged your little dangerous fantasy of being independent.

•Now of course Scrooge realized how ridiculous this all sounded. He had willingly allowed you to go on perilous adventures with him, but at least then, you were with him. How could he keep an easy eye on you if you just moved off to some rando spot? Plus, he was plenty good as saving you. He was your hero.

•Bad influences needed to go away.

•Scrooge might lie to himself about how much it digs under his feathers, but to see you around other people really dug wrong. He itched every time you decided to take advice from other people, or confide in them instead of him. He was the one you could go to, not them. Your secrets didn’t need to be shared with anyone else but Scrooge. All those rare and precious things that made you yourself didn’t need to be snatched by thieves like Shelby or Gale or whoever else.

•He knew that his criminal actions would scare you. Even with your growing trust and dependence on him, he knew it was too early for you to want to stay with him if you knew what he’s been doing. If he wanted your presence, he’d keep it through lengths you’d find terrifying.

•Scrooge found your biggest flaw was that you always attracted the wrong crowd, and it was primarily because you were always trying to impress others when they really didn’t deserve the magnificent canvas you painted yourself to be. To his even greater detriment, you were beginning to spend your time more and more with Shelby. The canvas you painted was beautiful, as always. But it wasn’t for him, and he found that he was not happy with this new development.

•Don’t you know people take advantage of kindness? It happened to him all the time and still does. It happened to you over and over and yet you kept venturing forth giving out your trust like it was nothing. The world is a sour place if you’re not careful. Cursed kilts, you were already naive about Gale. Who knows how badly future people would hurt you, even if they were well intentioned.

Scrooge could tell that, despite him insisting otherwise, you thought leaning on his shoulder was burdening him. He wanted to make sure you knew it was anything but that. As a matter of fact, he wanted you to lean on his shoulder every moment he possibly could get you to. What was just you occasionally asking for advice on impersonal things becomes entire sessions with Scrooge encouraging you to reveal every personal detail of your life.

•You had revealed that many times, you just wanted independence. A company of your own to possibly build so you could pursue life your own way. Scrooge knew these dangerous thoughts were one of the final roadblocks. Scrooge had to prevent them. Be it through roughening you up financially or discouraging you. Be it from murdering outside influences, too. Who was going to miss the miserable miscreants that plagued your life anyways?

•It is three days before the date you had decided that you would resign. Instead of being merry, you were miserable. The opportunity you had to get the job was burned by them not even calling you for an interview. After your resume, why would they reject you? You had the word of one of the finest businessmen out there to back you up. Scrooge himself promised to put in a good word for you! You were perfectly qualified for the job you were looking for. In your days of being rejected from the position you wanted, you confide in Scrooge. You don’t know it but as he pats your shoulder, he’s thinking of the next way to sabotage your efforts of leaving him.

•Shelby ends up going missing. She was one of your closest friends and the only one who finally treated you well. Your devastation causes a major setback in any ambitious plans as you isolate yourself from anyone else but only the closest person left in your life; Scrooge.

•Currently, you were enveloped in a warm hug, the side of your face leaning in the crook of Scrooge’s neck as he calmed your crying form down, patting your back and promising you his presence would remain forever. You wept at Shelby’s funeral, so did her twin sister and their parents, who, upon seeing Scrooge, had nearly fainted in shock.

•Despite your tumultuous relationship with Shelby, she had actually begun to redeem much of her previously antagonistic actions towards you. She was in a rough place when you had developed a connection with her. So you wept in your boss’s, or rather, your best confidantes arms. You wept.

Scrooge, however, did not.

#yandere #obsession #yandere ducktales #scrooge mcduck #headcanons #yandere x reader #reader insert #platonic or romantic #ducktales #cartoon #yandere Scrooge McDuck #minors do not interact #murder #this is weird I know #dt 2017 #ducktales 2017

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