#not like that came back to haunt me like god it really flew over my head how haunting that is

[the-acid-pear]

I wish Everett had such a strong line as "we'll make it fit" or "joe remembered" or even "not like that" but bro just died a, fairly normal death brought down on him by his kind soul. Which is arguably sadder but less impactful.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

"please don't leave me alone!" with john ward? it could be either's dialogue, i don't mind

"Timmy?"

"You got the wrong guy, demon!"

"WHYYY?!!!!" The Elevator Demon hissed as he skittered away from your crucifix. Once you knew he was gone for sure, you pocketed it before turning to John.

You were both trying to break the seal of Alu within Lisa’s apartment complex, looking around for clues. Then you got separated for two seconds and suddenly he rushed back to you as another demon’s heavy breathing drew near.

“Where the hell did that thing come from?”

“........”

“John. Why was it following-?”

“It’s my fault, okay?” He admitted with a weary sigh. “I saw a message claiming there was a 7th floor. I thought we could reach it and find more clues....but it tricked me into calling for it.” Then he bowed his head in shame, clutching the bronze crucifix with a trembling hand. “Why am I being deceived so easily, [y/n]? Am I really up for this task?”

You frowned slightly at your fellow priest, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't beat yourself up. The more demons we purge around town, the safer things will be. Like at the clinic. This one should be easy to dispose as long as we’re careful.”

He nodded, although he still seemed doubtful.

After thinking for a few moments, you took your hand away and had an idea. “I saw a ritual knife on the floor below. So I’ll go get it really quick. You stay here and watch out for-”

“No! Please don’t leave me alone!”

Suddenly John’s hand flew to grab your wrist, and you were shocked, though you blinked upon seeing the tears welling in his eyes. They were full of sheer terror.

Was this really the same man who went back to the Martin residence to face his past, vanquished many demons in his travels, and survived the infamous Candy Tunnel?

“John, are you seriously scared of some one-eyed--”

“I-I’m not afraid of that demon. I’m only afraid that..you won’t come back..” He whispered brokenly. “I can’t do this without you. I-I need you, [y/n].”

Now this was surprising.

Up until now, he seemed just fine on his own. You thought he'd prefer it to be that way. After all, you only came to his house under Father Garcia's insistence that you assisted him in this quest--and on the surface he seemed to be no coward, fending off demons with no problems and instructing you on what to do.

But having your company only cemented his fears that you could possibly be killed at any given moment--and he would carry this burden until he met his maker.

"Alright, I’ll stay with you. I promise." Soothing him, you gently took his hand off you, giving him a smile. "We'll keep each other close, and the Lord closer. Now let's go find that son of a bitch and save Lisa."

“...thank you." John sounded a lot calmer now, relieved you weren’t going to abandon him again. And he followed you closely as you both wandered the apartment’s haunted halls.

As embarrassed as he felt about overreacting--his fears were continuously getting the better of him; especially since his most recent nightmares began to involve you being possessed or dying in the most gruesome ways known to man.

Will they ever stop after all of this is over? He doesn’t know. The only way to find out is to survive, but even surviving this was too much for one man to deal with.

Aside from God, you give him the strength to continue.

You help him feel safe.

[mahougotham]

Yakusoku

(Tw: Panic attack and body horror)

Oswald wasn’t sure what he was getting into when he was told to fight this Scarecrow fellow. He assumed the man would be farm themed or bird themed, not so much a fear themed man. Didn’t help our hero that his opponent was built like a tall dead tree and probably crawled from a tomb by the looks of him. It especially didn’t help that he came at him suddenly and currently locked Oswald into sword to scythe combat.

“It’s odd,” Scarecrow thought aloud, “you don’t look like much.”

He swung his weapon down towards the champion only it to be deflected by a parasol sword.

“What do you mean by tha-“ the penguin immediately shut his mouth and parried an attack from the left.

“Well I figured this ‘Penguin’ fellow wouldn’t look like you. Riddler really talked a big game about you. About the shrine,” the taller man went to swipe at his opponent again only to have Oswald jump backwards to dodge, “I’m not quite wowed by this.”

“You can be wowed once I shove my sword up your ass!”

And with one jump, Oswald used his sword to disarm the Scarecrow and shove his foot in his face, his veil flying off his head. The first thing Oswald noticed as he flew at him were his eyes. It was all white and looked tired and haunted.

“Yurei…” he asked no one in particular before landing past the taller man. Scarecrow on the other hand, laid on his back with a face hot from impact, growling with frustration. He finally spoke in a grave and cryptic tone that shook Oswald to his core.

“I can’t afford to make him wait.”

Oswald ran at him to stop him from making a second move but he was caught in a thick fog exploding from the Scarecrow.

“God dammit,” Oswald cursed, “Scarecrow! A smoke screen is a coward’s move!”

This smoke screen was nothing like he has seen before… and it was making him feel lightheaded… no no his chest was feeling heavy… perhaps both. He rolled his sleeve and looked over his hands as his vision distorted and shifted, his flesh seemingly molded into monstrous shapes and limbs with eyes forming along the skin of his arms.

“What’s going on… what’s-“

The eyes on his arms closed and opened again as mouths and began to whisper a cacophony of words regarding him. Words he was all too familiar with.

“His poor parents. Saddle with such a burden.”

“He won’t last long by the looks of him.”

“Odd looking thing isn’t he?”

“Even Amaterasu has forsaken him.”

And many more, all of which stabbed into his existence.

Oswald felt his back hit a tree as his hands clawed and pulled at his hair, his pin coming loose, his breathing tripping over tears and fear.

“Shut up,” he began quietly before repeating in increasing volume, “Shut up. Shut up. ShUT UP. SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHU-“

He felt something pressing against him, something warm and weighted holding him and seizing his hands.

“You’re going to be okay,” a familiar voice spoke, “It’s going to wear off I promise. I’m going to help you through it.”

“… Riddler?”

“Shhhh… Scarecrow got you good huh?”

“What was that?”

“Fear toxin,” Riddler answered, “Nasty stuff. Distorts the mind and makes you experience crippling fear.”

He pulled Oswald closer to his body and blushed once he felt a hand grip his kimono.

“Your friend. The shadow man dressed like a bat? He killed our monster if that makes you feel better.”

“He’s not my friend,” Oswald says into the green kimono, “He’s just some freak who orders me about.”

“Ah.”

The two sat in the middle of the woods in silence, the smaller man burying his face in green cloth and the taller one looking up at the stars and running his fingers through the stray patches of hair on his enemy’s head.

“I’m not a monster.”

Riddler looked down at Oswald, confused by the sudden declaration.

“I’m not cursed. I’m just a man.”

“I know.”

“Oh what do you care,” Oswald muttered, “You’re probably happy to see me like this.”

“I’m not,” the Ainu responded, “I don’t like this at all. It’s too easy.”

Oswald looked up at Riddler confused.

“Penguin, it’s too easy to defeat you when you are like this,” he looked at his hand, watching it comb through obsidian strands, “I need a challenge. I need the thrill of knowing my opponent is on equal footing as me. I need to fight you wondering what will come next!”

“Riddler-“

“That’s why I won’t let anyone else defeat you,” he grabs Oswald by the shoulders and pulls him up so that their faces were a breath away from each other, “Only I, the Riddler, King of Conundrums, Prince of Puzzles shall be your downfall and yours alone.”

Oswald’s words were caught in his throat. Were his eyes always this fierce, this green? They were practically breathing each other in with how close they are! Wow his lips were pretty? Was he always this pretty?? Oh he doesn’t feel so good.

With that Oswald fell back in the Ainu’s grasp.

“Penguin? Penguin,” he watched as Penguin reverted back to Oswald, “PENGUIN!?”

[lilacwineandthesinkingsun]

Evermore - Chapter 1: Willow

AN: this series is heavily written around Taylor Swift's album Evermore. Each chapter will revolve around a song. I really really hope you'll like it!

Main Masterlist.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

I’m like the water when your ship rolled in that night Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife And if it was an open-shut caseI never would’ve known from that look on your face Lost in your current like a priceless wine..

You could ask me what would drive a young woman like me to the military. Why would someone willingly put herself on a path of humiliation, berating, constant belittling and unnecessary comments? Easy, it is a story that has been told over a million times by now. Growing up i was treated like a child that wasn’t planned. Truth is i was planned, just planned to be a boy. I praise whatever gods are out there that i don’t remember the exact moment of my birth. My father’s face. The one that still keeps haunting me in my dreams even though he’s been dead for almost 10 years now.

While other girls had long, curly hair, i always had short. While they had princess parties, sleepovers, dresses and make up, all i had was training, berating, mean comments from the man i was supposed to be the apple of the eyes of. I was always the black sheep. At first it hurt, then the more years flew, the more i came to ignore it. I had become so strong even my mother thought i was more like him with each passing day, silently hating me for it.

He was a general, one of the most feared on the battlefield, one of the most famous around the UK. He loved some of his men more than me, and it didn’t even surprised me. I had spent most of my childhood and teenager years sitting silently while he praised his most trusted over the dinner table. No mark, no achievement of mine was worthy of more than a nod. Still i always tried to be better, it became my sole life-goal to earn his love, his respect.

I remember when i was 16, just months before his untimely death i earned my sniper certificate, officially becoming the youngest to ever receive it. I knocked on his office door, waiting for the stern come in before entering. I still remember the disdain on his face when he realized it was me. His favorite lieutenant sitting in front of him, not turning to look at who entered. He spent most holidays with us, i knew his outline by heart now. How his laugh rumbled through the dining room when father laughed at one of his terrible jokes. Simon ' Ghost’ Riley.

-What? - my father asked impatient.

-Sir, Lieutenant, i.. i can come back some other time, i see you are busy. - I said head hung low, eyes set on my boots.

-We will leave for a mission at 0600 tonight, say it now or when I’ll get back.

I looked at him, mother will be angry and drink by herself until she passes out. It was their anniversary tomorrow. I stepped closer, handing him the certificate. He hummed, then gave it to the lieutenant. The giant looked at me. He was only 27, and I remember when he got his. Barely 3 years ago. My father was so happy, mother made roast to celebrate. I’ve longed for that. I made it. 9 years earlier than his favorite. That must count for something, right?… Yet, the only thing i got was a simple hum. Before handing me back the certificate the man with the skull mask, Simon, looked me in the eyes, seeing the tears that threatened to spill, lifted his hand and put it to my shoulder.

-Nice work kid, you got 9 years on me if I’m not wrong. You’re gonna be one hell of a soldier.

I can almost tell by the curl of his eyes that he was smiling faintly. That’s what broke me the most. The frown etched on my father’s face, while his lieutenant was maybe even proud of me. This was the last i saw any of them. My last memory of my father was one of him frowning, how i could never make him proud, how i never earned his love, how i was never enough, and now.. i never will be.

I saw a lot of soldiers and higher ups at the funeral, but i didn’t see the kind giant. Maybe he went down with him. The son my father never truly had but always wanted.

I didn’t cry, not at the funeral, not since then. I had built up walls to protect myself, yet the memory of never making him proud stayed. It dictated my life. It suffocated me. It made me seek for acknowledgment, praises, respect, that i never truly received. Not when i chose to join the military, yet it was familiar. I knew their behavior by heart, i grew up around it. It never satisfied, but it was comfortable. I just knew it. It was the only thing i ever truly knew.

Of course the different bands and teams were in war with each other just to have me within their lines. Youngest to get sniper certificate, also first to get a 100% score. It was absolutely unheard of. Everyone before me only got as close as 87%, not me though. I aced all the tests, i was perfect in hand in hand combat, i could hack even fairly complicated systems, i even earned the title of field medic by i was 20. No matter how you see it i was the perfect soldier. Always calm, always precise. I was made Captain by 24. Now at 26 i was asked if i would consider joining the infamous task force 141. They gave me a week leave to think about it. To be honest i had no reason to say no. My mother died 7 years ago. She was depressed and overdosed on sleeping pills and whiskey, i was all alone.

I went to the cemetery to visit their resting place. Sat down on the bench in the warm afternoon sun as a small smile appeared on my face.

-I can practically see the frown on your face as i would tell you that I’ll join the 141. I hope that you’d be proud of me, even for a fragment of a second. I knew you wanted a boy, i had always known. And at first i hated you for it, but now, now I’m just disappointed. The fact that i am a woman, and i earned this place proves just how worthy i am, whether you’d accept it or not. The fact that you never loved me is your loss and not mine. - i whispered as i watched his picture etched into the marble gravestone. I didn’t let the tear that prayed on my lower lash line to fall. I forbid it. I spent most of my life up until the funeral crying over something that never happened. I won’t start it again now.

3 days later i was on the heli that took me to my new home. To my new family.

I saw 4 man standing there in white t-shirts, camo trousers, boots, dog tags hanging over their chests. I stepped off of the heli in a similar clothing, except my t-shirt was black. I had my ray-bans on as i walked towards them. I saw how they glanced at each other, they didn’t expect a woman called a prodigy to join them. Yet, i was the same rank as their leader, outranking 3 of them already, even when i was probably around a decade younger than them. I asked the office to tape out the name of my father, my first name. I never wanted to bask in his highlight, i wanted to surpass it by my own achievements.

I stopped before them. Smirking.

-141. - i said looking on each of them, stopping for a minute on the familiar skull mask, memories filling my mind, memories i was quick to bury again before taking the hand of their captain to shake.

-I am Captain John Price, good to have you here. - the man smiled. It was warm, his handshake firm. Was he afraid that I’d take over? The thought made me smirk, and he cocked a brow.

-Happy to be here sir. - you nod before he turned to introduce the men. I didn’t take my sunglasses off, fearing that no matter how much I’ve changed the giant would remember me.

-This is Lieutenant Ghost, next to him Sergeant Gaz and Sergeant Soap.

Soap immediately jumped forward taking my hands in his, shaking vigorously.

-Is it true that you were made captain at just 24? - he asked with a sparkle in his eyes making me chuckle.

-Yes Sergeant.

-Unbelievable. - he said beaming at me.

-You all seen her file, cmon now, you can ask her your stupid questions over a cup of whatever in the bar. - said Price.

-A welcome committee and a welcome party. Captain you sure know how to sweep a soldier off their feet. - i said as he walked me to my assigned room. They all bunked together, except the captains. It was a nice change for sure. I settled in, showered, and chose a black tank-top and jeans to go with my doc martens for the night. They were all waiting outside as i walked out. I left my hair with it’s natural curls, the ends always blonder cause of the sun. I decided to grow my hair out when my father died, ever the rebel. Soap and Gaz whistled when they saw me, and i was used to it by now, so i just smiled as i jumped into the passenger seat. Price drove, the rest of them smushed in the back.

-I saw you’re a sniper, when did you get your certificate? - asked Gaz, making me laugh while Price rolled his eyes with a smile.

-I cannot tell you cause then you’ll be fangirling all night. - i joked, but honestly i just didn’t want to give Simon the confirmation of what has been swirling behind his brown eyes ever since i looked into them.

-Probably earlier than you. - said Price making me laugh and nod.

-No way, no fucking way. I though i was the record setter. - he said, not believing it.

-The current recorder in the world is 16. And it was around a decade ago. - said Ghost. It was the first i heard him talk since i got my certificate. I still remember his praise. His voice sends a tingle down my spine, what i would do to hear that praise again.

-16??? No waaay. - said Soap but Ghost continued.

-It was the kid of my first general. Man that one was one talented kid.

-Did he join the army? I mean if he was that good at so young he must have right? - he asked from Ghost. Hearing them talk about me was making me slightly uncomfortable but i could not afford to give myself away just yet. Not until i know i fit in here, cause if i didn’t fit in here, i won’t fit anywhere else either. This was my last shot.

-I don’t know.. Last i heard of the family was before the last mission i had with the general. He got bombed with a building he was supposed to sweep.

-Damn that is dark. You didn’t go to the funeral?

-No. - he didn’t say more of it. And i was thankful. These were wounds i did not want to open up ever again.

The bar was dimly lit, mostly filled with old locals and i was thankful for it. I hated those big, loud places swarming with people. The sergeants drank tequila while Ghost, Price and I drank bourbon. They were surprised by my choice of drink, but when i drank it like it was water, no grimacing, no signs of tipsiness they accepted it.

I got to know them slowly over the night, but i was most interested in the Ghost from my past. What happened? How did he end up here? He was more restrained here, more silent than i remember him to be around my father, yet his shoulders are more relaxed, i can see he feels like home with the team, that gave me hope about my own future here.

I decided to walk back, leaving them to drink some more. The cold air of the night was welcomed on my face as i lit my cigarette, looking up at the sky before walking towards the base. I feel I’m being watched so i turn, only to bump into a hard chest. My palms unwillingly fly to it, trying to steady myself, as his large hands catch me by my waist. When i stand steady on my feet he let’s go immediately and we fall into a comfortable walk beside each other.

-You’re his daughter aren’t you? - he asks after sometime and at first I debate lying even if I remember him seeing through it every time.

-Yes, but it doesn’t matter. It never did. Not to him, not anymore to me. - i tell him scoffing as i smile at the memories.

-He did love you though, i hope you know that.

-He loved you more than he ever loved me, i know you know that. - i said to him kicking a small rock on the road.

-His last word through the comms was for me to tell you that he was proud of you. - he said and it made me laugh out loud into the night, only for him to look at me confused.

-I’m not gonna eat that, knew him better than that. But it is okay.

-If you say so. - he shrugged.

-What happened to you after that mission? - i asked, genuinely interested.

-I got taken hostage, tortured for two weeks before i broke out. Not long before the 141 was formed. At this point I’m surprised you weren’t one of the firsts to join.

-I only got asked like a week ago. - i shrugged.

-Hows your mother?

-She died 7 years ago. Overdosing.

-Shit, I’m sorry. - he rumbled.

-It’s okay, if i was her i would’ve done it sooner. My father raised a mini him. That can’t be pleasant to live with. - I chuckled to myself keeping the tears at bay. I truly missed my mother. He stopped, grabbing my wrist, engulfing me in a hug. His scent hit my nose. Musk and bourbon mixed with a hint of sweat that wasn’t unpleasant, it was something undeniably him. Something that after all these years felt comforting. I hugged him back, and we stood there for a good few minutes. When i broke the hug, i saw him get kind of flustered, at least that is what his body told me. So i offered him a cigarette before silently walking back to the base. We didn’t talk anymore, but it was nice having the last remnant of my childhood, of my family walking next to me. He didn’t have to hold my hand to make it feel like he was.

You know that my train could take you home Anywhere else is hollow I’m begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans

[tangent101]

A Strange Life: Chapter 12

Warning: This chapter includes a brief segment with a character waking up after having been raped. Reader discretion is advised.

Part 5 

Polarized  

Chapter 12 

A Dark Place  

I hurt. My eyes felt like I’d been face-down on the beach and I clenched my eyes shut, trying desperately to get tears to flow. And then they did. 

Yang’s body flew back, blood spraying out.  

The back of Cinder’s head blown open, her haunted eyes staring at me as she fell beside me.  

“No...” I whimpered. I opened my eyes, shivering. My dress was pulled up past my breasts, my bra, my panties gone... I swallowed hard, feeling bile in my throat. Everything hurt, but between my legs... I retched and forced myself to look away. 

A cart was next to me and I forced myself to sit up. “Is anybody out there?! Please, help!” 

No response. I blinked the tears from my eyes and looked at the cart for anything I could use to free myself. But there was nothing. Just a photo of me looking blankly at the camera. Calm down. Okay. Let’s use the photo. See what happened. I focused on the picture, hearing tidbits of sound, a man’s voice. Adam’s voice. I had to swallow back bile again but I continued to focus... until I fell into the photo. 

White light filled my vision and I forced myself to look up as Adam’s face came into focus. 

“That’s just great... oh Blake...” 

I was lying on the ground again, my hands tied before me. Adam knelt before me, taking picture after picture. “This angle highlights your purity, see? When a model is just starting to regain consciousness, she’s at her most open and honest. There’s no vanity. No posing. Just... pure... expression. 

Adam’s hand slid up my legs and I squirmed. “No! Stop!” 

“You were wasted on that dyke. I know what women really want. I’ll have you begging for more before we’re done,” he said. My mind froze for a moment and Ilia’s voice came to me. 

So. If Zach ever tries anything like that again when I’m not around? There’s one thing you can do. Piss yourself. I’m serious, Blake. Men like to think of sex as this pure thing... so if they’re not expecting it? If you pee yourself, you sully yourself in their eyes.  

Adam’s hand brushed against my underwear and I closed my eyes and listened to my sister. 

“Oh God! You bitch! You’re just an animal, aren’t you? How disgusting...” I opened my eyes to see Adam standing up and storming away. A moment later I heard the sink in the bathroom turn on and looked around desperately. I had to distract Adam, get him focused on something else... my eyes focused on one of his cameras, attached to the tripod, and I wormed over to it, kicking out. It toppled and smashed on the ground.  

Moments later Adam rushed back in. “What the fuck are you doing? You bitch! You’re going to pay for that!” He smacked me across the face and I reared back to spit at him, but he dodged it. “Okay. Time for you to take a nap. You’re far too feisty right now for me to work with.” His hand closed over my throat and I trembled as I felt the cold metal of a needle against my neck. There was a pinprick and things started to blur once again before everything went white. 

-

I came to with my face aching. My underwear was damp and clammy... I glanced down and saw I was now duct-taped to that horrible chair. While my dress had been pushed up to bare my legs, Adam hadn’t touched me further. It took everything in me to keep from bursting into tears. “Hello?” 

There was no response. 

I struggled against my bonds but I couldn’t move. The cameras were out of sight, though I caught a glimpse of shards of light on the floor by where the tripod had stood. The cart that held that first photo was still there, and I noticed the pictures had changed. 

Wait. Did I... did I create a Paradox? I destroyed the camera... I glanced around the room. He drugged me for his fucked-up binders, taking photos like with those other poor girls. Why didn’t I see it? I knew it was his style! I had to blame poor Cinder. But... maybe I could use these new pictures? Maybe I can get out of this? Save Yang? I have to. I am not going to die in here.  

I looked at the photos and one stood out. I glared at the camera. I couldn’t help but smile. This was a Blake who was still fighting. This was the moment I had to try for. 

Focusing, I let myself fall into the next picture and its moment....

[incendiobrock]

The Witches Forest

Request: heyy idk if u do requests but if u aree then can you do one where the reader is a witch and is dating colby so she goes on one of the haunted trips w them and does some reading idkk you can end it however you like <33 tyy! 

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I loosely based this imagine off the witches forest video on the Sam and Colby channel but instead of the witch from the video giving the reading it was y/n, and instead of Colby getting lost in the forest it was y/n. Hope you enjoy! Also this was loosely inspired by an imagine I read by @annab-nana you can read it here!

Warnings: sexual joke (I think that’s it)

------------------------------------------------------------

It was a typical day with the trap boys. Your boyfriend Colby had finally convinced you to go on a haunted trip with them. The only reason you had agreed was because he had promised you, and Corey, that there wouldn’t be any seances. You would all be going to just spend the night there, not summon anything.

In fact, Sam was planning on doing a cleansing ritual that he had done some research on. So, you agreed. You were always super worried about the boys and the trouble that they would find themselves in, especially with demonic entities and spirits. 

One of the other reasons you had agreed to do the video with them was because you knew that the fans have been begging for you to make an appearance. Colby got tweets and comments daily about his “witchy girlfriend” joining in on a haunted overnight video. All the fans knew that you were super into crystals, and tarot cards, and different herbs, and just about anything that you believed would help protect you and connect you to the world of spirituality.

So here you were, sitting in front of the camera, Colby right by your side, his ring clad hand holding onto your thigh, as the rest of the guys surrounded the table. “Okay, who’s ready for the reading?” You questioned, looking around the table. Everyone nodded and agreed to begin. You passed the tarot deck to each of the boys, instructing them to shuffle the deck while thinking of their intention for the trip to The Witches Forest. Everyone did as told and passed the deck back to you, you were the last to shuffle.

“Alright, so I’m going to pick the top three cards and then we can go over what they each mean for us, and for the trip we are about to go on.” You stated, gently flipping over the top three cards, The Tower, The Nine of Swords, and the card of Death.

You felt the room tense as they all read the cards chosen. “It’s not bad.” You said, trying to calm everyone’s nerves. “Uh- I don’t know about you but a card that says death seems pretty bad to me.” Corey said, laughing out of fear.

“Yeah babe, what does that mean besides ‘we are going to die?’” Colby air quoted the last part. “Will you guys just give me a minute to explain it?” You laughed at your boyfriends face as his eyebrows remained scrunched on his forehead, looking desperately at you for answers. You went on to explain that death could signify the “death” of an era and the beginning of something new. The Nine of Swords means that their own thoughts can weigh them down, or cause a feeling of darkness, and The Tower means danger, chaos, but also liberation. 

“See, so nothing is necessarily bad. It actually seems like this might be good for you guys, especially since we are planning on doing the fire ritual too. That way you can begin a new journey and have a nice cleansed path before the next moon cycle begins.” You stated, leaning your head on Colby’s shoulder and cuddling into his side. He placed a short kiss onto your forehead taking hold of your hand, “Alright so let’s get on the road we don’t want it to get too dark before we set up the tent, plus it’s about an hour drive.” Colby said to the group, still holding your hand as you both stood up to go get into the car.

About an hour later you had all arrived at the forest. Colby had parked the car a little off the dirt path in a small clearing between the trees. You were happy to get out of the car to stretch after having to sit between Jake and Corey in the backseat. You brought along a small backpack of stuff like a water, first aid kit, a flashlight, and most importantly some crystals that offer protection. You took out the small ziploc with the crystal and began to give one to each of the boys, telling them to keep their crystal in their pockets for protection. 

Sam had asked you to explain to the camera what all you had brought so you showed him the black tourmaline, amethyst, and the obsidian, saying that they each offered protection and grounding properties. “Alright, now that we got our protection rocks let’s go pitch the tent we will be staying in all night.” Sam said, shutting off the camera. You all stood around trying to help as Colby did most of the work putting the tent together. You were impressed with his skills, never knowing that he could set up a tent with little to no instruction.

“Dang brother, those Cub Scout skills are really showing right now.” Jake joked, sticking the last spoke into the dirt. “Thanks brother, you know I’m skilled with these hands.” Colby responded, sending a wink in your direction. Your cheeks heated up as a small laugh escaped from your mouth. Leave it to Colby to make a sexual joke that makes the guys cringe. 

After a little exploring all together, and almost losing the location of the tent, you had all decided it was time to start the fire ritual. You were glued closely to Colby’s side, hearing a lot of motion within the trees. “Once we get the fire going maybe we will feel better, the light and heat should scare off any animals that are near.” Sam said grabbing the fire bucket that he had brought for this ritual.

Colby lit the fire and you all sat around in camping chairs. “We should’ve brought s’mores bro.” Corey said, trying to alleviate some of his fear. You agreed with him because you knew you felt the same fear as him at the moment. Sam explained what was going to happen with the fire ritual and passed out the objects that everyone was going to be throwing into the fire, in hopes to release any possible spirits that were attached to them. As soon as you guys started to watch the stuff burn Colby flew back, falling with his camping chair.

“Did you guys see that! Right there! Right behind Jake! Sam? Did you see it, it was like a shadow and it moved super fast right behind Jake’s head.” Colby yelled, standing quickly off the ground and shining a flashlight in that direction. “I saw that too!” You said, abandoning your camping chair as well. Colby took hold of the camera and began walking away from the fire and towards the trail. “Colby! Wait for us bro you can’t go alone!” Sam yelled out, chasing after him. “I have to go, I know I saw something I need to see where it’s going before it gets away, I wanna capture it on camera!” Colby said.

“Someone has to stay by the fire we can’t all leave! Jake you stay here with Corey and we will go investigate.” Sam instructed, but Jake hesitated wanting to go too. Corey ended up agreeing on staying by the fire so you three could keep up with Colby who was still walking quickly away from the group. You thanked Corey, worried that your boyfriend would get too far ahead of everyone. You began to jog to the path, already extremely behind the others because of the sudden panic. 

You turned onto the dirt path and didn’t see any of the three boys, but could barely make out their voices in the distance. You began to jog down the path, heading to the left. You had felt like you were getting closer to them but their voices still remained faint and incoherent. You knew that Sam had yelled for everyone to stay on the path in order to avoid getting lost so you kept jogging further and further into the forest, away from the fire where Corey sat.

You slowed to a walk, shining your flashlight all around, hearing tons of branches snapping and rustling. You suddenly felt very alert, almost as if something was watching you. You felt the panic really set in as it became harder and harder for you to catch your breath. “Colby!” You yelled. “Colby! Sam! Jake! Corey!”  You knew you had made a mistake going this far down the path. “Hello?! Can anyone hear me!” You heard a scream off in the distance making your eyes basically bulge out of your head. You turned sharply towards the direction of the noise, shining your flashlight out in front of your face. Your hands were trembling, shaking the light violently. Not only was it freezing out, but you were terrified of what was out there.

You began running back the opposite direction of the trail, your breath almost nonexistent at this point, but you were determined to make it back to the tent. You heaved, feet stomping away at the dirt path beneath. After what felt like a century, you saw the distant glow of the fire. You ran, the victory of reuniting with the boys fueling your return. The fire was now in clear sight as well as the figures of the four boys you were so anxious to see. The noise of you approaching causing them all to turn and look at you. 

You practically leapt into Colby’s arms, tears pouring down your face as you wrapped tightly around his torso. His hand found its way straight to your hair, pulling you as close as he could to his body, swaying you side to side. “Oh my god, baby. Where were you? I was so worried! I thought I had lost you.” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair trying to soothe your crying. “I-I was running after you a-and then I got lost. I heard a s-scream, I’m so scared.” You sobbed, never wanting Colby to let go of you.

“We looked all over, we were calling your name like crazy but Jake said we should come and wait by the fire incase you came back. We didn’t want to keep moving further away from you on accident.” Sam said, standing closely near you and Colby. 

“Can we please go? I don’t think I want to be here anymore.” You pleaded, looking into Colby’s eyes as his delicate fingers helped to wipe away your tears. “Yes, of course. I love you, I’m so glad you’re safe. Let’s head to the back up plan, the cabin.” Colby said, directing the last sentence to the boys. You nodded gratefully, making your way into Colby’s car while Jake, Corey, and Sam packed up the mess. 

The night was getting foggier as you pulled into the driveway of Jenna’s cabin. You felt relief rush over you, knowing that you wouldn’t have to spend another second in the Witches Forest. You all got out of the car and huddled by the front door, rain beginning to pour down. Sam took off his backpack digging through it to find the spare key Jenna had lent him. “Uh, Colby did I give you the key earlier?” Sam asked. Colby let go of your hand and patted his pockets down, “No I don’t think I have it. Is it in your pockets?” He responded, recapturing your hand in his, knowing that you were still shaken up about getting lost. Sam flipped his jean pockets inside out, no key to be found. He began pulling everything out of his backpack, searching deep into the bag for the key.

“Let’s go back into the car maybe I left it in there.” Sam said, heading straight back to Colby’s car. You all got back in as the rain continued to pour, Sam searching every inch of the vehicle. “I can’t believe you lost the key Sam, first Y/n goes missing and now this?” Jake says from the backseat, obviously frustrated. “It’s not all my fault okay? You think I meant to lose the key?” Sam snapped back, the tension in the car rising. 

After a lot of searching, the key was no where to be found. Much to your dismay, you had to go back to the tent in the depths of the forest. You all huddle into the blue tent, slipping into your sleeping bags. It was only a few more hours until daylight, a few more hours before the suffering would end.

“I’m not going to let anything hurt you. I lost you once tonight and it was the scariest moment of my life. It’s not going to happen again, I promise.” Colby vowed, pulling you into his chest. You smiled at his kind words, despite how scared you were he always knew how to make you feel safe. “Thank you Colby, I love you so much.” You responded, nuzzling further into his chest. “I love you, to new beginnings.” He chuckled, referencing the tarot reading from earlier. “To new beginnings.” You agreed, sealing the deal with a kiss on the lips.

[ladytheoris]

Toji X Reader

Modern AU, 100% fluff.

Being a husband and a police officer was tiring Toji, very much. But he enjoyed every single second in that phase. Husband of a lawyer who is quite successful in her career, and that woman being the best wife anyone could ever ask for, Toji surely did treat his life like royalty. One thing he is really good at is cleaning. Be it be the city or your house, a speck of dirty was something that your house hasn't seen in ages since Toji started living there. Today happened to be that day.

No matter on what day he gets off, Sundays are reserved for you, which means cleaning and doing household chores with Toji. The same went for you. Quality time was something that both of you valued. But he made even vacuuming the floor something hot. The man looks like a Greek god, and surely by the end of the day, no matter how tired you are, things get spicy.

So after dinner, your usual plans included taking a long bath with or without Toji, the usual skincare routine which was mandatory for Toji, one final look in the kitchen to make sure it's Monday-ready.

But by the time you reached the living room, Toji was stretched on the couch like a cat, sleeping peacefully. So you decided not to disturb him anymore, did your long hot bath, and walked back to the living room in your PJs. You decided to take a quick look into the kitchen and then get Toji up.

What startled Toji from his peaceful sleep was your scream. Being a cop, of course, he did have a heck of a lot of enemies. His mind couldn't help but wander off to the unpleasant thought. His cop mode was instantly on and dashed into the kitchen from where he heard you, without thinking twice.

There you were, on the top of the counter, pointing at the ground with a knife in your hand. Toji was as frozen as you were. But seeing it was that brown maggot, he couldn't help but laugh out loud.

"Don't you dare laugh Toji, that shit is dangerous" you were embarrassed, anyone would be, but frightened more.

"Sure, I'll go get my handgun so you can shoot it. It is better than the knife." He couldn't contain his laugh.

He slowly walked over to where you are and stood beside you slightly trembling form. Without thinking further, you latched onto him like a baby koala, earning even more laughter from him.

"I am warning you Toji, if that thing flies, you on the couch for one month." Now things got serious. Toji surely can't sleep without you beside him. After all, you kept away the haunting nightmare of a life he did not even remember. That little roach can definitely not be the reason for his no-cuddle days.

"Just wait," he held you by your waist and walked away from the kitchen, your eyes never left that, in case it flew.

Toji kept you gently on the couch, and gave you a dramatic nod, before going in the kitchen and closing the door behind him. A few thuds later, he came back to the room.

"Is it gone?" You asked.

The answer was his smile of victory, which screamed no more couch month. You gave out an exaggerated sigh, and walks back to your room, only to be engulfed in his big arms, your chest pressed against his stone-hard chest.

"Where is my fee? I don't do stuff for free". His voice had a fake threatening edge. He had that smirk painted on his face.

You stood on your tiptoes, and gave him a quick peck, "thank you for saving me, my knight in shining armor."

"Anytime for you, princess. But the cost for killing is higher than that."

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Ghost Busters | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi, friends! I don’t know if any of y’all like Parks & Rec, but one of my favorite Ron Swanson quotes ever is “you’re house isn’t haunted, you’re just lonely” so I used it for a fic :)

Send me your comments, requests, and/or submissions! 🥰

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @glxwingrxse @psychoticmason @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @lonewolf471 💘

————————————👻

With shaky hands, you pressed the 'call' button and waited anxiously for Bucky to answer his phone. After three rings, his deep, velvety voice filled your ears.

“Hey, sweetheart. What's-”

"Buck, hey, listen- I think my apartment is haunted..." you told him. His booming laugh echoed through the phone and brought a small smile to your lips. His laugh was always the thing that made you happiest, and it was a nice reprieve from the sheer terror coursing through your veins. "Hey! I'm not kidding! I really think my place is haunted!" you insisted.

He chuckled again at your adorable distress, taking a moment to gather himself. “You’re place isn’t haunted, doll. You’re just lonely,” he teased.

“Okayyyy, then come over and make me…not lonely! Please?” you pleaded, flinching as you heard another strange sound. A dramatic sigh traveled through the phone and Bucky couldn’t help but mess with you a little more.

“Oh, I don’t know…I can’t just come running every time you’re scared,” he told you, taking a brief pause before continuing, “I’m kidding, sweets. Already on my way. I’ll be there in ten”.

Bucky’s metal hand knocking against your front door was enough to make you jump out of your skin. Once you collected yourself, you flew to the door and pulled it open, launching yourself into the warm, safe embrace of your best friend Bucky. “Hiiiiiii,” you breathed against his muscular chest, “thank you so much for coming over”. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, rubbing his warm hand up and down the length of your spine your spine reassuringly.

“Of course, doll. You know I’m only a phone call away,” he said with a wink. He escorted you back inside and produced a bottle of your favorite wine from the inside of his coat. “I was saving this for the next time you came to my place, but I figured it would do you good tonight,” he joked. You nodded and took the bottle from him, eagerly tearing at the foil covering the cork. When your anxious hands were too shaky to work your wine opener, Bucky took over with a wink. He poured two glasses- yours slightly fuller than his- and walked with you into the living room. A sheepish smile overcame your expression as you realized that you’d really just called Bucky and made him come over because you thought Casper was fucking around in your ceiling. “So…um, I know you think I’m being ridiculous…” you murmured.

“I don’t think you’re being ridiculous, doll. I just think you maybe shouldn’t have had a scary movie marathon by yourself in an apartment you just moved into…” he teased, taking a sip of his wine.

“It’s not the movies, I swear! I keep hearing these noises! It’s this really creepy scratching sound and-” the sound in question cut you off, making you whip your head around. “See?!”

Bucky placed his wine on the coffee table and slowly moved toward the sound, listening closely. “Buck, what if it’s a demon? Or- oh my god, what if it’s the Candy Man? I didn’t even say his name five times! Why would he come for me??” you rambled, your fear only growing as Bucky continued to silently stalk toward the sound.

He disappeared into your darkened spare bedroom, and as badly as you wanted to make sure he was okay, you couldn’t bring yourself to step foot into the pitch black space.

“Bucky?” you whispered-no response.

“Bucky?!” you called again, still getting no answer.

A loud crashing sound made a scream rip from your throat as Bucky emerged from the spare bedroom and slammed the door shut behind him. You jumped into his arms like Scooby Doo and held on to him so tightly it made your muscles ache. “Oh my god, I’m so glad the Candy Man didn’t get you…” you murmured against his neck. He laughed his loud, adorable laugh and wrapped his arms around you, “he couldn’t get me, sweetheart- I’m too fast for him” he joked. Carrying you back to the couch, he set you down and clocked your anxious expression.

“Okay here’s the deal, doll,” Bucky began, “I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that there are no serial killers, possessed dolls, ghosts, demons, or anything of the like hiding in your spare bedroom. The bad news is…there’s a rather large family of squirrels living behind the wall in the closet”.

An uproarious laugh took hold of you, making you almost douse your couch in red wine. “Squ-squirrels?” you choked, “oh my god, I was afraid of squirrels!”. Your laugh made Bucky laugh, and then the two of you were laughing until your stomachs hurt. “Ohhhhh my god,” you breathed as you finally calmed down, “well, Buck, I think I now know why my rent’s so cheap…” He laughed again, and the sound made your heart swell.

“Ugh, now I’m gonna have to call my landlord and they’re gonna rip the wall open and have to get the squirrels out and it’s gonna be a fucking mess…” you whined, finding solace at the bottom of your wine glass. Bucky was quiet, but you could see the flicker of a thought behind his eyes. He bit his lip for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and blurting it out. “Come stay with me! You can sleep in my bed- I’d sleep on the couch, obviously. But you should just stay at my place instead of being here when they free the squirrels”.

“Buck, I can’t-are you sure? I don’t want to intrude…” you murmured, “I can’t take your bed”. He shook his head, not hearing another word of protest from you. “Yes you can. And you will- if you want to stay, that is. I’d love to have you, sweets…”

The sound of the squirrel family scratching against the inside of your wall cut Bucky off, eliciting another perfect laugh from him. “You’re sure?” you asked, and he nodded confidently, never having been so sure of anything.

“Well, then…when can I come?” you offered meekly. Bucky took the last sip of his wine and helped you up off the couch, “get packing, doll” he ordered, sending you off to gather some things for the next few days.

Back at Bucky’s squirrel-free apartment, the two of you watched almost all of Ocean’s 11 before your eyelids started getting heavy. “You can go to bed, sweets. You don’t have to stay up till the end of the movie”, Bucky teased as he watched you struggle to stay awake. An embarrassed slide crept across your face and he cocked his head to the side, asking what was wrong.

“Okay, you cannot laugh at me, but…I’m still paranoid”, you confessed. He stifled a laugh, making you roll your eyes and elbow him in the ribs. “I spent all day thinking my apartment was haunted! I have ghosts and demons and little girls who ask you to play with them ‘forever and ever’ stuck in my brain!” He lost the fight against his laughter and you gave him a shove before joining him, laughing so hard your cheeks burned while leaning up against his strong body. “Buck, if I asked you for a favor, would you do it?” you asked, knowing you’d already asked for too much tonight.

“Geez, sweetheart, another favor? I don’t know- I already went on a ghost hunt in your apartment…” he teased, before easing your worries with a genuine “of course”. Reluctance left you tongue tied, and you didn’t want to make Bucky feel weird by asking him for this specific thing, but you knew you wouldn’t fall asleep otherwise. “Buck…would you- would you sleep with me? Instead of out here on the couch? I’d just- I’d feel a lot better…”

With a smile and a nod, Bucky helped you from the couch and led you by the hand to his bedroom. The two of you climbed in under the covers and you couldn’t help but snuggle up against him, feeling safest when you were close to him. Sleep began pulling you under and you let out a contented sigh against Bucky’s strong arm. “You’re the best, Barnes…” you whispered, earning you a kiss on the head. He chuckled at your words, in disbelief at just how fucking adorable you were. “Any time, doll. And hey, if the little girls from The Shining come for you,” he joked, “I’ve got your back”.

[yhwhsdaughter]

pairing: trevor belmont x fem reader

content: forced vampirism, monster slaying, main character death, pining, angst, mention of animal death, usage of the word ‘assault’ to refer vampires feeding on reader

- this was meant as platonic soulmates but it can be seen as romantic too

“It hurts…”

Feet dragging across the rocky ground, you heard screeches of pain from behind, though they soon diminished. You could only focus on the pulsing sensation at the side of your neck; it was like fire rushing through your veins.

Preoccupied with your agony, Belmont was able to sneak up. He raised his whip, ready to kill off the last of the creatures when you suddenly turned, and with glossy eyes you said, “Help me…”

The whip managed to leave a thin horizontal line across your cheek as he pulled back, causing blood to drip out slowly. Now illuminated by the moon, Belmont saw the damage on you. Skin exposed by the ripped clothes showed multiple bite marks. Blood stained the corner of your lips.

She’s been infected..

Belmont didn’t see a monster but a scared woman who’d just been assaulted by vampires. He knew what she’d turn into, but he couldn’t kill her… not when she looked at him like this. Sunrise was approaching so he had to act fast.

Draping his cloak onto your form, Belmont proceeded to carry you into the nearest building, which so happened to be where the carnage had occurred. Upon recognizing the place, you began to panic, shaking and looking at him with distrust. “You’re safe. I killed every last of those bloodsuckers.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while, in that shitty stinking room. Eventually tiredness overcame your senses; Belmont felt weight settle on his shoulder. He wonder how a vampire could look so innocent whilst sleeping.

“Hungry…”

You felt parched; it felt like your throat had dried up, barely able to utter a word.

“I know.”

A rabbit was placed in front of you. Blinking at it, you directed a confused glance at the man. “I’m—this is.. for me?” He nodded. Taking the animal with traces of disgust, you raised it to your mouth. Blood gushed into your mouth; feeding made a horrible slurping that would certainly haunt you but there was relief amongst those troubling feelings.

You gulped every last drop, draining the poor creature of its life. Still, your hunger and thirst weren’t satiated. Biting your lip, you pondered on the next move. Because this man had saved you, daring to kill him or even feed off him seemed… rude. Not to mention, he seemed way stronger than you in terms of experience. Prior to this, you were a regular citizen. Maybe you could run away?

“Here.”

Trevor could see your turmoil. Most vampires needed to drain at least one human every time they fed—if they were being generous. They could survive weeks without blood but it made them weaker. Besides, it was older vampires who had this kind of self control. Newborns tended to be more unstable.

“Just take it before I change my mind.”

You did as told, though you were still unsure. Hesitating, you licked your lips before nearing towards the vein on his wrist.

Trevor let out a grunt when your fangs pierced him. Although you tried to be gentle, it was an uncomfortable feeling nonetheless. As he became lightheaded and you full, the mouth that was attached to his wrist removed itself with a ‘pop’.

After making sure he was alright, you asked for his name. “Trevor. Trevor Belmont.”

“Oh..”

“……”

“Oh! I’m (Name) (Surname).”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

“It’s dangerous.”

“I still-still want to go!”

The last remnants of sun were gone. Ever since your first encounter with the rugged monster hunter, you refused to part from him, following the latter like a lost puppy.

“I’m not much of a fighter.. b-but watch this!”

On cue, you punched the nearest tree, cracking it and making a sizable hole. You looked back proudly towards Trevor; except when you tried to pull your hand out, you were having difficulty.

“Ah. It’s stuck.”

Trevor couldn’t help but chuckle, walking away, clearly amused with your display of power. You pulled harder, “Hold on! Don’t leave me alone! It’s scary..” you muttered the last part while chasing after him. Despite being a creature of the night, the world and its evils still frightened you.

At the sound of a branch snapping, you yelped, grabbing a piece of Trevor’s cloak for security.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to Belmont when you punched a head clean off, practically decapitating one of the attackers. He might have been seriously injured if you had not intervened.

“Trevor.”

Gazing at you under the moonlight, he saw the hunger in your eyes as you held a man whom was still alive but struggling. His neck was exposed. Even so, you waited.

The Belmont turned away, giving you privacy to feed.

He knew that by allowing you to live, you would continue to take blood from others. Normally he wouldn’t feel soft towards a monster but whenever he thought of you, it was different.

His guilt was lessened when you drank from scum. Before putting the lives of innocents in danger, he would offer his own.

“Are you done?”

The corpse of the man was dropped unceremoniously as you joined Trevor, a light skip to your step.

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Despite adopting a nighttime lifestyle, Trevor was still human and had to conduct business during daylight hours.

He’d left your lodgings, which was an abandoned cottage, for a while. Nobody really passed through there anyway, so he thought you were safe. Worst came to worse, you could handle yourself. But as your self proclaimed protector, Trevor felt uneasy leaving you alone.

Maybe he should’ve listened to his gut because when he arrived, the door was wide open with dirty footprints leading in all the way to your coffin.

Two men had opened it—staring at the peaceful expression on your face, unaware that they were here to end you. To them it was obvious what you were. Even with that frilly white dress that made you look somewhat angelic, they couldn’t be fooled. As they raised their weapons to strike, Trevor used his whip. His sudden entrance startled them but it gave you the chance to wake up.

Eyes snapping open, you jumped onto the other man, taking both of you to the ground. His screams echoed shortly as you tore into his throat. The remaining one had no chance; Trevor left the room, closing the door on his way out, killing the light that entered and cutting off the way to escape.

Left alone with your prey, a smile crept up your face.

When you opened the door again, the dress which decorated your body was now stained red. There was hardly a clean piece on the material. Even so, you greeted Trevor with a hug.

“Trevor..”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“M-me too..”

─── ☾☼☽ ───

Forty years passed in the blink of an eye.

“You should retire.”

“Belmonts don’t retire. The only rest they get is when they’re dead.”

“Well I don’t want you to die.”

“I have to, someday.”

“No you don’t.”

It’s been like this for the past few years; Trevor was sixty now. His body didn’t look that of an aging man, but the expression on his face did. He’d seen too much and as time passed, it was harder to fight monsters by himself.

Of course you’d noticed that and suggested turning him. It was an ongoing discussion; Trevor didn’t fancy the idea of living an eternal life but the thought of leaving this earth without you was disheartening. He didn’t say it but the situation tore him apart.

There was also the fact that he was too old for you; forty years to be exact. You’d maintained your youth, looking lovely as ever. His doubts were shot down when you immediately said that you didn’t care about that.

“I just want you.”

He always kept pushing the conversation away and you were patient. Trevor supposed that you could’ve taken him by force if you wanted and when he inquired, you told him it would be like violating him, robbing him of the choice you were never given.

As understanding as you were; the time would come for him to decide and confront you about it.

That time was now.

He should have been more careful, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Trevor watched as the sun slowly descended. Would you make it here before he passed? Would he die without seeing you one last time?

When you woke night had already fallen. Trevor wasn’t home; he’d been late plenty of times before but this occasion felt different.

Upon stepping outside, the smell of blood hit you. It reeked, staining the very air. You immediately recognized the source—how could you not? You’d fed from Trevor countless times.

Rushing in that direction, you prayed to whatever entity was listening to keep Trevor safe. The world and its gods could condemn you, but not him.

Not him.

You found him sprawled on a big rock, a creature hovering over his crumpled figure. Without thinking, you tore it to pieces. Blood rained as his mangled body flew to various parts of the forest.

“Trevor!!!”

He let out a groan, which would’ve made you sigh in relief but his visible injuries proved otherwise. You were no doctor and even if you could carry him into town, it would be too late. There was no other option. If you didn’t do anything, you might lose him.

“Trevor. Let me do it.”

Still conscious enough to reply, “I don’t want to become—”

“A monster?”

“I cannot become what I sought to destroy..”

Tears escaped your eyes, blurring the image of the person whom you treasure most. “Please.. please please please..! Don’t leave me alone!”

You begged, knowing it was unfair to pressure him in such way but you couldn’t bare the thought of existing if he wasn’t present. He was your salvation, your companion…your world. And yet, he was being robbed from you.

So soon… It’s too soon!

You always imagined Trevor living well into old age, spending the remainder of his life with you, being happy. He was destined to die peacefully, not like this. Not in this shitty place, by the hands of a shitty monster!

“I can’t. I’m sorry..”

Grabbing his hands, you lowered your forehead on them, crying your heart out. It was unfair. Life was unfair.

“Kiss me.”

Despite the pain that he was in, Trevor found it in himself to smile. For you. “Kiss me one last time.” Tears dropped slowly as you heard him. Shaking your head; you couldn’t kill him.

“I want it to be you..”

His words struck a chord.

Lifting him by the neck in a gentle manner, you pushed the collar of his shirt aside, exposing his carotid. As you bit into his familiar skin once more, your other hand caressed him, trying to make this goodbye as painless as possible.

With every sip you took, tears fell down.

I love you! I love you! I love you!

His warm hand turned cold.

You held him in your arms like he once did to you, with the outmost care, with the love he deserved.

Since Trevor didn’t say where he wanted his body to be buried, you chose the nicest spot. It was a secluded place where it wouldn’t be dug up by animals or people—but not so hidden either.

Whilst cleaning the blood that covered his body and face, you found a piece of cloth with writing on it. Staring at it, you recognized the Belmont insignia. Turning the material, you managed to read the words…

Take this. Go to Alucard.

Trevor must’ve written that in his final moments; probably in case he didn’t make it before you arrived. The letters were sloppy because of the blood but you could read it well.

Clutching it to your chest, you sobbed until the light of day began to burn. For a moment you wished to stay there and disappear. Perhaps you could join Trevor.

Together even in death..

─── ☾☼☽ ───

The journey was rather long.

Looming in all its glory, Castle Dracula. You looked at the last piece of your beloved, holding it tighter in your hand.

“Okay. Let’s meet this Alucard.”

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 2 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Reader has to deal with the aftermath of Dynamight exploding through her window and trying to bleed out on her floor. 

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language. 

A/N: Here’s chapter two, hope you enjoy! ~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

AO3 Link: Here 

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here 

Chaos. You intellectually knew the word, in several languages in fact, but nothing could have ever prepared you for the reality of it. 

Information assaulted your senses in a deluge. The gust of cold air whistling through the broken window, raking icy fingers down your exposed arms. The bright flare of flames, even behind your clenched eyelids. The dissonant, haunting wails of several car alarms, each one just a second out of sync with the next, barely audible over the loud ringing in your ears. The taste of ash, gritty on your tongue as you sucked in heaving, panting breaths. The sharp smell of smoke and something… sweeter. Like caramelizing sugar. 

The sweet scent, incongruous with every other heinous detail, seemed to snap you fully back into your body, and your eyes flew open with a gasp. 

You were curled up in a tight ball below your now broken window, and you gaped at your ruined apartment. The lights were out, so the only illumination you had to see by were the flames behind you on the street, but it was enough. 

It looked like a tornado had torn through your home. The remnants of your window and wall—broken bits of glass, wood, and plaster—covered everything in sight in a fine layer of white dust. Your sewing desk/kitchen table was in splinters, and even with the dancing shadows, you had the distant thought that the dress you’d just finished mending was most definitely ruined. 

Then someone shouted outside on the street, and you felt it like a sledgehammer to the skull. 

Oh, god. The villain. The heroes. 

You scrambled up onto your knees, hissing when shards of glass tore through your sweatpants and bit into your skin. You’d worry about that later. For now, you focused on getting to your feet… 

And not falling out of the gaping hole in your apartment wall. 

You stumbled back a few steps from the edge, stabilizing yourself on one of your kitchen chairs that seemed to have survived the blast. The smoke was thicker now that you were off the floor, and you coughed and squinted against the hot, irritating air. 

The street in front of you was a warzone. 

The windows in the building across from you were all blown out, the empty frames like black gaping voids. The building housed a café/tea shop owned by Mr. and Mrs. Yamato, and you felt a small modicum of relief at the knowledge that they didn’t live above the shop like you did with yours. They lived in a neighborhood not too far away, and they wouldn’t be happy when they came to open in the morning, but at least they were safe. 

Safe… 

“Mr. Takeyoshi!” you gasped as you remembered your neighbor. He’d been standing on the street and nearly attacked by the villain, but a blond hero had pushed the middle-aged man out of the way. 

Your eyes scoured the street as you leaned forward as much as you dared, and just as your heart was beginning to clench, you spotted him. Mr. Takeyoshi was sitting on the curb across the street and about four storefronts down, hunched over with his head in his hands. Two heroes stood above him and seemed to be tending to him, and all three of the men looked whole for the most part. 

“God.” You exhaled shakily, your heart still stuttering in your chest, and then movement in your peripherals caught your attention. 

One hero seemed to possess a water quirk, and she was quickly working to spray down the numerous small fires still flickering up and down the road. As you watched her work, you realized the street wasn’t as badly demolished as you first assumed. It was still pretty wrecked—all of the asphalt was cracked and even just missing in some places—but aside from broken windows, the rest of the shops seemed mostly intact. The worst of the damage was centered just in front of your apartment, and as your gaze flickered over the large crater in front of you, you saw another two heroes dragging a third body out of the pit. 

The villain. 

The hero with the water quirk paused in spraying down the smoking remains of a car and turned to shout something at the other heroes. You couldn’t hear what she said over the persistent ringing in your hears, and you frowned as you focused your own quirk toward your ears. 

In your hopped-up-on-adrenaline state, you didn’t even notice the energy dip, and a moment later, your hearing returned with a loud pop. Thankfully, all of the car alarms seemed to have been cut, so you could hear the heroes pretty well.

“—still alive,” a tall hero in a red and purple suit said. You didn’t recognize him. “He’s pretty beat up, but he’ll make it.” 

“Great,” the water quirk hero sighed. “Let him be the cops’ problem now.” 

As if on cue, you could hear a siren start up in the distant, slowly moving closer. 

The threat was over. The villain was neutralized, the fires put out, and the authorities were on the way. 

So… why did you feel so on edge, like you were waiting for the other shoe to drop? 

“—fuckin’ Dynamight,” one of the heroes suddenly spat and drew you out of your thoughts. 

You frowned in confusion as the words registered. Dynamight… why did that sound familiar? 

Then your eyes widened as you remembered the blond hero, literally exploding onto the scene. His face—snarling and illuminated by the white-hot flare of his quirk—flashed in your mind’s eye, and you dropped your gaze back down to the street below. 

Dynamight, Japan’s Number Two Hero. You couldn’t believe he had been the one to turn up and save you. 

Well, not you specifically. Your neighborhood. 

You’d seen the ash-blond on television before. Usually, the media just liked to harp on his crude language or brash attitude, but you’d seen this one story of how he had saved every single person from a collapsed building. A teary blonde gushing about Dynamight rescuing her had gone briefly viral, but the clip that stuck with you was when a reporter asked the pro hero why he decided to go into the unstable building without any reinforcements. 

The blond had scowled into the camera, sweat and dirt still streaked across his pale face, his scarlet eyes flashing from beneath his black mask. 

“What was I supposed to do?” he scoffed. “Leave them in there and sit with my thumbs up my ass while the fire department takes their sweet fuckin’ time? Don’t ask me stupid questions.” 

Of course, the media had another field day with that response, but… something about it struck you as incredibly genuine. Yeah, the pro hero could have phrased it better, but the core of what he was saying was he couldn’t sit back when people were in trouble, no matter the risks. 

You had thought that very brave. 

And now you’d witnessed his bravery first hand. You weren’t confident—or really self-centered enough—to go down and thank him for what he’d done, but you thought you would just be satisfied with seeing him from afar now that things weren’t so dire. 

But, the longer you looked, the more the pit grew in your stomach. 

You couldn’t see the blond hero anywhere. He wasn’t with Mr. Takeyoshi, still hunched over on the curb. He wasn’t with the two heroes who were trying to establish a perimeter and keep out the arriving crowd of spectators. And he wasn’t with the other heroes standing watch over the unconscious villain laid out on the sidewalk. 

The rest of the heroes seemed to be arriving at the same conclusions as you. You could hear Dynamight’s name being thrown about, and then the heroes were splitting up, taking different sides of the street, peeking into broken windows. 

You wrung your hands as you watched them search from your apartment. No one had noticed you standing there yet, and you were just contemplating going downstairs to try and help in some way when a noise caught your attention. 

In the grand scheme of things, the noise wasn’t very loud, especially given the shouting on the street and the loud sirens now that the police were arriving on scene. 

But since you lived alone, someone coughing in your apartment, someone who wasn’t you, was cause for a little alarm. 

You inhaled sharply as you glanced back over your shoulder, every atom of your being standing at attention. The apartment behind you was a study in contrasts, dark shadows and the flashing lights of the emergency vehicles outside. Your eyes fell on the empty spot where your couch used to be located, and then your gaze followed the drag marks that had been carved into your wood floor. 

The couch was half embedded in the wall beside your front door, with one of the armrests denting into the plaster and the other pointing toward your gaping window/wall. The sofa’s legs had been broken, so it slumped to the floor at an angle, and some kind of stuffing spilled out of several rips in the cushions. 

But your eyes were glued to the leg sticking out over the armrest and the arm thrown over the back of the couch, which was blocking the rest of the… person from view. 

Oh, fuck. That was a person. 

Your legs reacted before your brain could even process what you should do, but you were at least cognizant enough to pick your way over the worst of the debris. Your thin, rubber-soled slippers would protect you from the small pieces of glass and rubble, but you really didn’t want to step on a nail if you could help it. 

Since your apartment was so small, and there weren’t any full pieces of furniture in the way anymore, you crossed the distance in a handful of strides, but you jerked to a stop when you reached the back of the couch. 

Your lungs seized up so suddenly they hurt. The smell of caramelized sugar was stronger now, almost overwhelming, and you actually had to grip the back of the sofa for support, your hand right next to Dynamight’s leg. 

Because it was Dynamight half-strewn across your broken couch. Even when you first saw the leg, you hadn’t imagined it could be… 

But there he was. And he looked surprisingly… human. 

His face was lax with unconsciousness, lacking the perpetual scowl or snarl he wore in pictures or on TV. His hair, which looked paler and somehow softer in person, was tinged red along his brow line, where a cut was still trickling sluggishly. He wore a non-descript black hoodie over dark jeans and darker combat boots, but a glint of color and light around his midsection caught your eye. 

You frowned and leaned down without thinking, your fingers reaching out to brush… something wet. 

“Oh, shit,” you breathed when you lifted your hand to your face and saw, even in the darkness, that the pads of your fingers were red and glistening. 

He was bleeding. 

You moved a step closer, but then your foot lost purchase, sliding, and when you glanced down, you saw your once white slippers were dark, more wetness seeping in around your toes. 

Oh, god. He was bleeding a lot. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You fumbled for the phone in your pants pocket as you scurried around the opposite end of the couch and dropped to the ground. Glass bit into your knees again, this time deeper, a sharp, brilliant pain, but you ignored it as you tried to turn your phone’s flashlight on. The touch-screen wouldn’t register your finger at first, your blood-slicked skin skimming across the glass, and you could feel a scream building in your throat just before the light flashed on. 

If you thought things were bad in the dark, being able to see made it a thousand times worse. 

Blood had already pooled around Dynamight, dark and glinting like an oil spill. The sleeve on his left arm had been burned off, and the skin below was pink and raw. It smelled like cooked meat, and the curry you ate what felt like a lifetime ago churned hotly in your gut. 

But the burn wasn’t even the worst of it. 

A wooden stake, about as wide as three of your fingers, protruded out of the pro hero’s gut by several inches. You thought part of it might have looked like your window frame, but the thought came and went when you noticed the tip of the wooden splinter was dyed red, which meant it must have come through his body. 

That had to be where all this blood came from. Was still coming from. God, there was so much of it. 

Your eyes shot to the gaping hole in your wall, your voice rising in your throat as you prepared to scream for help, but a sudden gasp nearly made you jump out of your skin. 

You whipped back around to find wide, hazy red eyes trained on your face, and the hero’s mouth gaped open as he dragged in a ragged breath. 

“Wh—hnng!” he groaned as his body seized, his right hand coming up to clutch at his stomach. 

“Don’t!” Your phone clattered to the floor, throwing light, as you lunged forward, and you caught his hand before he could jar the piece of wood lodged inside him. “D-Don’t move, a-and try not to speak.” 

The hero panted as he cracked open his eyes and looked at you. Or maybe through you. His gaze wasn’t very focused, and blood from the cut on his brow was still dripping into his right eye. 

But the scarlet color of his irises was still striking, even in the dimness of your apartment. 

“You’ve… been hurt,” you said as you met his eyes as best you could. You weren’t a doctor or an EMT, but you knew the best way to keep people calm in emergency situations was to let them know what’s happened and reassure them. “There’s a piece of wood inside you, so you can’t move or you might hurt yourself worse. But y-you’ll be okay. I’ll go get—” 

“Villain,” Dynamight suddenly spat out, cutting you off and spattering you with a fine mist of blood. 

“What?” His voice was rough and guttural, so it took your brain a moment to translate the slurred Japanese. Did he think you were another villain? 

The blond hero winced and groaned again, and it wasn’t until he squeezed down on your hand that you realized you were still holding his. His palm was rough and calloused against yours—and warm, so inexplicably warm—but then he dug his nails into your skin, and you gasped. 

“Vil… lain?” he rasped again, and you realized it was a question. 

“Oh! The villain’s been arrested. You… you beat him.” 

Dynamight scowled at you, brow knitting in confusion, and he grunted what sounded like a questioning noise at you. 

Then he shifted his head, and you saw the dark stain of blood coming out of his ear. 

He must have ruptured his eardrums in the explosion. 

You didn’t want to shout and damage his hearing even more, so you squeezed his hand back and smiled in what you hoped was reassurance. 

“You won,” you mouthed as clearly as you could. “You won, Dynamight.” 

His narrowed eyes widened a little bit with recognition, and you could have sworn the beginnings of a smirk twitched across his lips before his eyes suddenly rolled up into his head. The tension fled his body as he went limp, like a marionette with its strings cut, and your heart lurched up into your throat. 

“Dynamight?” you asked, even though you knew he couldn’t hear you with his ears the way they were. “Dynamight?” 

You squeezed his fingers, shaking him a little, but his face remained slack. 

Dropping his hand, you reached up to flatten one of yours across his chest, the other going up to feel at the underside of his neck. A moment ticked by, two, but you found his pulse, weak and thready beneath your fingertips. His breathing was shallow beneath your other hand, and the knees of your pants were warm and soaked with his blood. 

“F-Fuck,” you breathed shakily as you sat back for a moment, your hands limp in your lap. 

He was dying. Dynamight… was dying. This was too much blood, and even if you called out to the heroes right now, and they got here in seconds, it was still ten minutes to the nearest hospital. 

He didn’t have ten minutes. You didn’t think he had five. 

You stared down at the pro hero’s blood-streaked face for half a beat before you made a decision. 

Then you were moving. Consequences be damned. 

Your hands went to the hem of his hoodie, and you flinched as you pulled it away from his belly with a wet sound. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you also didn’t think he was feeling much of anything now, so you worked the hoodie up and over the stake as best you could before you shoved the fabric the rest of the way up his chest. 

The flashing lights from outside played across the dips and valleys of Dynamight’s abs, but your eyes were immediately drawn to the wooden stake. It jutted out between the hero’s belly button and his right hip bone, and every splinter was coated in tacky, crimson blood. More of the viscous liquid bubbled up around the torn skin at the stake’s base, and it trickled across his pale, alabaster abdomen like spilled paint. 

You bit your lip as you considered your next move, but then Dynamight’s breath hitched with a wet sound, and you knew you didn’t have time for doubts. 

“Okay, steady,” you muttered to yourself as you knelt over the hero’s prone body. Your knees burned, glass digging deeper into the skin by the second, but you shoved away your own pain as you reached out and wrapped both hands around the stake. Splinters tore into your palms, and your heart hammered out a staccato rhythm beneath your sternum. 

Then panic started to creep up your spine like a million little spider legs. What if removing the stake only made him worse, killed him faster? What if you killed Japan’s Number Two Hero? 

Just as you were about to let go of the stake, Dynamight hacked out a gurgling cough, blood bubbling out of his dry, cracked lips, and you felt the warm spray of it against your collarbone and arms. 

The sound rattled something deep inside you, and before you could second guess yourself again, you tightened your grip on the stake and tugged it up and out in one single motion. 

Dynamight wheezed once more, but you were already dropping the stake, hands slapping down against his abdomen. Warm blood pulsed through your fingers like pliable clay, and bile rose in the back of your throat before you took a deep breath, closed your eyes, and called upon your quirk. 

An instant later, agony like you’ve never experienced slammed into you, ripping a gasp from your lungs. It felt like someone had stuck a white-hot poker through your gut, ignited your insides, and twisted. The pain was so intense, your ears started ringing again, and when you cracked open your eyes, your vision quickly began to tunnel until the only thing you could see was the bare outline of your hands, lined with green, against the hero’s stomach. You gritted your teeth as unconsciousness threatened to pull you under, and you groaned as you shoved as much energy as you could spare into the dying hero. 

As your quirk flooded into the blond’s body, you received vague impressions of his injuries healing. It was hard to describe, but it was kind of like you could see flashes of the tissue in your mind as it was stitched back together. First, the jagged hole on his back sealed over, and then your power wormed its way through the hero’s insides, patching up nicked arteries and punctured organs. The pain was still intense, so intense that your already limited vision was blurred by tears, but once you reached the top layers of his abs, you ripped your hands away with a gasp. 

You fell back on your ass, more glass and debris digging into your cheeks and the palms of your hands, and you sucked in ragged breaths as you tried to keep from passing out. The hero swam unsteadily before you, both from the tears in your eyes and because the entire apartment was swaying. Saliva pooled in your mouth as nausea clamped down on your stomach, but you focused on the burning in your palms to center yourself. Then you started counting deep breaths, and when you got to thirty, the darkness had receded from the corners of your vision, and the apartment more or less steadied out around you. 

You still felt like shit warmed over, like you’d been run over by a car and then dragged for several miles, but the bone-deep exhaustion could be cured with a good night’s sleep. The rest of the nicks and cuts on your body still burned like a million paper cuts, too, but your quirk was down to embers and was of no more use to you. 

But was it worth it? 

The two feet of distance between you and Dynamight felt like a canyon that stretched for miles, but somehow you found one last burst of strength to drag yourself forward a few inches. Then you held your breath and leaned over the hero’s abdomen, wiping away most of the pooling blood with the hem of his hoodie. 

There was still a significant gash carved into his skin, but when you shakily picked up your discarded phone from the floor and directed the light at him, you saw the wound was much shallower, maybe a few centimeters deep. The first few layers of skin were flayed back, but the muscles beneath were intact and healthy looking. A small trickle of blood continued to drip into the valley of the hero’s abs, but instead of a broken fire hydrant, it was just a leaky faucet. 

You dragged your tired eyes up Dynamight’s body, and you very quickly realized his breathing was deeper and not as wet sounding. Just to be doubly sure, you reached out and tentatively wrapped your fingers around his left wrist, only absently noticing that the once raw, flayed skin had been partially healed from third degree burns to first. 

You had poured more energy into him than you meant to, but it was hard to regret anything when you felt his pulse against your fingertips, strong, steady, and sure. 

“Oh, thank you,” you choked out as you closed your eyes, tears stinging in the corners. You didn’t know who you were thanking. You didn’t know if you believed in a “god” in the colloquial sense, but you felt as if the universe had given you a gift just now, and you could be nothing but grateful for it. 

You sighed as you slumped a little, and it was like weights were strapped to your eyelids as you struggled to open them and keep them open. You might have actually gone under, succumb to the exhaustion… 

If you didn’t catch sight of two crimson eyes staring back at you. 

“Fuck,” you gasped as a zap of adrenaline shocked you upright, and your phone clattered to the ground once again. 

Dynamight squinted, irises still a little glassy, but unlike last time, his gaze was very much focused on you. 

And the weight of it, the intensity, pinned you to the floor. 

“Y-You’re awake.” The words tripped off your tongue, chased out by the panic running circles in your brain. Damn it, you hadn’t even had time to come up with a plausible backstory for the pool of blood he was lying in. 

The blond hero’s eyes widened a fraction as he stared at you for an immeasurably long moment, and then you remembered with a start that he hadn’t been able to hear you before. This could work in your favor, though. You opened your mouth, ready to pantomime an elaborate story, but his voice—deep and rough, like crunching gravel or an expensive engine turning over—cut you off at the knees. 

“And you have eyes,” he said in clipped Japanese, a note of snide derision in his tone. 

You blinked in shock—at his attitude, the steadiness of his voice, and the fact he could hear you just fine all the sudden—but he just barreled onward like he had barreled through your window. 

“What happened?” he asked. No, demanded. “Who are you?” 

“I—” 

“And where’s that fuckin’ villain?” he cut you off as his split upper lip curled into a snarl, and his red eyes jumped to the gaping window over your shoulder. 

You frowned at him, pursing your lips into a thin line. “Are you going to let me answer?” 

A part of your brain was screaming at you, distantly: Are you giving Japan’s Number Two Hero attitude after he saved your life?!  You normally weren’t like this. Every inch the people pleaser, you were usually deferential to the point of your own detriment. 

But you were still so tired, every inch of you aching, blood still dripping and slick along your exposed skin, and he was the one who decided to be rude first. 

Plus, you saved his life, too, thankyouverymuch. 

Dynamight actually seemed surprised by your response because his gaze stopped its frantic search of your darkened apartment and settled on you. Those scarlet eyes raked over you quickly, a flick from head to toe, before they met your own. 

A beat of silence passed between you, and then his face pulled into a sharp frown. 

“Well?” he grunted. “Are you actually going to answer me?” 

The nerve of this man. Maybe the media had been right. 

“What happened was you decided to practically drop a bomb outside on the street, and then you crashed straight through my window and destroyed my apartment,” you said in a short, clipped tone. “But don’t worry. My couch managed to break your fall, so you’re mostly in one piece. Oh, and you beat the villain, the other heroes are outside handing him off to authorities. Satisfied with my answers?” 

You sucked in a deep breath after your little tirade, the blood roaring in your ears. Absently, you patted yourself on the back for the impromptu white lie you’d fed him. The couch did in fact break his fall… and shoved a stake through his gut, but he didn’t need to know that. Fortunately, you had dropped said impaling object behind you in your haste to keep some blood in his body, and you shifted a little now to insure it was blocked from his view. You had healed his life-threatening injury—and his hearing, apparently, though you hadn’t intended that—but he was still covered in scrapes, cuts, and minor burns along his left arm. It was a… plausible amount of wounds, so hopefully your little quirk indiscretion would go unnoticed. 

Dynamight was still staring at you in silence, and you began to fidget, on the edge of saying you were going to go flag down another hero, when he finally spoke up again. 

“No, I’m not satisfied. You didn’t answer all my damn questions. Who the hell are you?” 

A flush of heat infused your cheeks—part anger, part embarrassment for being put on the spot again and being the subject of his intense glare—and you averted your eyes as you mumbled out your name. 

“Hah?” he practically shouted as he leaned forward, bringing with him that bewildering scent of burned sugar, but he suddenly stopped with a wince that he quickly turned into a scowl. “Speak up, I hate when people mutter. Just like goddamn Deku.” 

The last sentence wasn’t directed at you, but you found his mention of Japan’s Number One Hero intriguing. 

You sighed and repeated your name for him, a little louder this time, and he grunted in what seemed like acknowledgment before he started to struggle upright again in the ruins of your couch. 

“Don’t move too fast, you’ll start bleeding again,” you chided and scooted closer to stop him from aggravating the injury on his abdomen. You’d healed the worst of it, but it was still an open wound, and he was bound to be sore as hell after smashing through a window/wall. 

“M’ fine,” he grumbled as he settled into a slightly more seated position. Then he looked down and noticed his hoodie was still partially rucked up around his arm pits, and his red eyes shot back to you. He studied you for a long moment, but his face was unreadable. “Undressing me while I was unconscious? You’re not one of those damn obsessed fangirls, are ya?” 

Your cheeks flared red-hot, but you scowled at the ash-blond hero. “N-No! I—You were bleeding, so I wanted to make sure it wasn’t too b-bad. But, uh, the gash isn’t that deep.” 

It was a little harder to make more articulate, detailed lies, especially when his blood was still drying on your hands and you could remember the exact feel of his pulse slowing beneath your fingertips. 

Dynamight narrowed his scarlet eyes at you, and you knew you weren’t being convincing. Panic started to claw up the back of your throat again. His burning gaze was charring away at your weaknesses, your resolve. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, confessing. You’d saved his life after all. That wasn’t a bad thing. 

Then you remembered all the articles you’d looked up one anxiety-filled night, soon after moving here. All the stories about people using their quirks and causing damage. Of people with healing quirks trying to help and only doing more harm. The fines, the charges, and in rare cases, imprisonment. 

You didn’t think you’d be locked up, but you couldn’t afford any fines now, and as an immigrant, any mark on your record could get you immediately deported. 

Your mouth dried up. You couldn’t be deported, sent back to your parents as a failure again. What’s more, you had people who relied on you here, like Mrs. Kojima. You weren’t a hero, not important by any means, but… you had just found something to give your life a little purpose. A little stability. 

No, you couldn’t be discovered. You just couldn’t. 

Your newfound resolve stiffened your spine a little, but when you lifted your chin and met those piercing crimson eyes again, your courage—along with your tongue—shriveled inside you. 

Fuck, how were you going to lie your way out of this? 

Unfortunately, Dynamight didn’t give you any more time to get your story straight. 

“Your hands are all fucked up.” 

You startled at his rough voice, instinctively flipping your hands palm-side down and tucking them between your legs. Then, when your brain caught up to your body, you cursed yourself. 

Could you be any more obvious, any more guilty? 

“I, uh, i-it’s nothing,” you stammered, clearing your throat before you continued. “I cut myself on the broken glass from the window, but it’s not serious. Nothing a few bandaids won’t fix, anyway. Maybe some gauze and antiseptic, but definitely not a hospital visit or anything.” 

You knew you were babbling but somehow couldn’t stop it, your anxiety just seizing control of your tongue, and you clenched your torn-up hands into fists until the stinging pain centered you a little bit. 

Once again, Dynamight studied you in silence, like he was choosing his words carefully. 

“Did you nick your damn wrist, too?” he finally asked as his neutral mask twisted into his signature scowl. “Looks like a lot of blood. Don’t be an idiot and bleed out on me. I don’t wanna deal with the fuckin’ paperwork.” 

Well, maybe not that carefully. 

“I-I’m not bleeding out,” you protested with a frown. “I’m fine.” 

“Let me see.” 

You blinked. “Excuse me? 

The hero stuck out his right hand, palm up, his scowl only deepening. “Let me see your hands.” 

Fuck. A drop of icy cold fear slid down your spine. Your hands were indeed “fucked up” like the blond said, but the cuts were all shallow and minor. They would in no way explain how you were coated in blood up past your wrists. None of your injuries would account for that. 

And none of his current ones would, either. 

“I—” You opened and closed your mouth several times like a gasping fish, and Dynamight’s eyes narrowed on you with what you were sure was suspicion. 

And then, like a gift from the heavens, a small but bright beam of light suddenly flooded your apartment from over your shoulder. 

“Dynamight?” a male voice shouted. 

The blond hero clenched his eyes shut and turned away from the light, and you. “I’m here! Turn that damn light out.” 

Said light cut out an instant later, and you seized the opportunity that had just been presented to you. 

Quick as a whip, you leaned over and snatched a large swath of dark fabric that you’d seen in the brief moment of illumination, and you reeled it into your lap quickly. The fabric had been a personal project of yours, a gown you’d started on a whim, but that didn’t matter now. Dynamight was still rubbing at his eyes, grumbling about being blinded, so you kicked half of the unfinished garment under and around the base of the ruined couch, effectively covering up the large pool of blood that had congealed under the splintered furniture. Then you reached behind you, grabbed the bloody stake, and shoved it between the folds of fabric. 

There. Now, most of the evidence was hidden. 

And not a moment too soon, because in the next breath you heard the crunch of glass as the unnamed hero stepped into the apartment behind you. 

“Hello?” 

“We’re over here,” you called back, struggling to your feet so the hero could see you over the back of the couch. 

The hero was silhouetted against your ruined window and the flashing police lights outside, so you couldn’t see much of his face, but you could tell he was tall and broad-shouldered, wrapped in a red and purple suit you didn’t recognize. 

“Are you alright, ma’am?” the hero asked in very formal Japanese. 

You opened your mouth to reply, but Dynamight cut you off. It seemed to be a habit of his. 

“We’re fine,” he grunted, and you turned to see the blond shoving himself to his feet. A gasp caught in your throat, and you made a half-aborted motion to stop him, but his red eyes snapped up and glared at you, freezing you in your tracks. “Aren’t we?” 

It took a moment for you to realize the last question was directed at you, and when Dynamight’s lip curled up into a sneer as he accusingly dropped his gaze to your hands, you realized none of your lies had convinced him after all. 

“Y-Yes.” The word stumbled out of your mouth without your permission, but you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes off the blond as you felt your world falling in around you for the second time tonight. “We’re fine.” 

The hero behind you said something, but it was lost in the static suddenly filling your head. 

He knows. He knows. Dynamight knows. 

The words cycled through your brain again and again, a broken record. What would he do? Would he tell the other hero? Or take you down to the authorities himself? And what then? Would they arrest you? Give you a few days to pack up and say your goodbyes before your deportation? 

Just as you were beginning to spiral, movement caught your attention, and you watched as if from a distance as Dynamight suddenly stepped past you, the scent of burnt sugar stinging your nose as he went. He was talking, and the low rumble of his voice vibrated through your body since he was so close, barely a hair’s breadth away, but he seemed to be talking to the other hero. 

Was he confessing your secret already? 

You couldn’t seem to turn around, your slippered feet rooted to your debris strewn floor. Even in the dark, you could see the black stain of Dynamight’s blood on your ruined couch cushions, and without thinking, you leaned down, picked up another torn and dirty piece of fabric, and threw it over the stain, blocking it from view. 

You didn’t know why you did that. It didn’t matter now. Dynamight knew, and— 

“Ma’am?” A hand touched your elbow, and you jumped, whirling around. “Whoa, careful there.” 

It was the tall hero in the red and purple suit. He was wearing a partial mask over his eyes, so only the lower half of his face was visible, framed by two pieces of dark hair. He smiled at you, a pleasant, reassuring gesture, but you could only gape at him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked you again, a frown replacing his smile. His eyes started to look you over, but you shoved your hands into the pockets of your sweats before he could see them. 

It doesn’t matter, you idiot, your brain screamed, but your body was still going through the motions of keeping your secret, twisting your hands in your pockets, trying to rub out the blood. 

“I’m fine,” you said again and then realized repeating the same trite phrase probably wasn’t convincing. So, you smiled at the hero, or at least you thought you did. Your face felt strangely stiff and numb, but you flashed your teeth and crinkled your eyes just the same. “Really. I’m just a little… shaken up is all. I have a few cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. The apartment took the worst of the damage, obviously.” 

You laughed, a hint of hysteria in your voice, as you gestured to the gaping hole in your wall behind the hero, hoping to get him away from your blood-soaked couch. And, blessedly, he did turn, so you took a few steps past him until you were both facing the broken window. 

Then you noticed Dynamight was standing near the hole, very cautiously leaning against the last remaining, exposed stud in the wall, with his hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie. His body was facing out into the street, but his eyes were still locked on you, the red of them only intensified by the police lights still flashing on the street. 

His eyes seemed to say, I know what you did, and all the saliva dried up in your mouth. 

“Well, as bad as the damage is to your home, I’m glad you weren’t seriously injured, ma’am,” the hero at your side suddenly said, and you jolted when you realized he was responding to your inane babble from what already felt like hours ago. 

“O-Oh, yes.” You smiled again, just as forced and twice as shaky. “I was… very lucky. A-And thank you! For doing your part to s-stop that villain before he hurt anyone or caused even more damage.” 

“Yes, well, there was still more damage than I would have preferred,” the hero replied, and you didn’t miss the dirty look he shot Dynamight, who just deepened his scowl because he was still looking at you. “But let’s get you down to the street. The paramedics will look you over, and the authorities will want to take a statement. But don’t worry, they’ll also put you up in a hotel for the night since you obviously can’t stay here.” 

He threw the last part of the sentence at Dynamight like a dagger, and the blond finally tore his eyes off you to glare at the other hero. 

You waited for the explosive hero to… well, explode, but he only stared down the tall man beside you before he rolled his eyes, glanced at you one last time, and then jumped out the hole in your wall. 

“No—” you gasped, stumbling forward like you could stop him, but an instant later, you heard a mini-boom out on the street, followed by Dynamight barking orders at someone. 

Oh, yeah. You remembered how the blond had burst through the air while fighting the villain and realized he didn’t just ruin all your hard, illegal healing work by face-planting onto the concrete. 

You sighed and suddenly swayed, like the blond leaving had finally cut all of your tense strings. The adrenaline was fading at last, exhaustion leeching through your veins in its place, and you listed into the hero beside you. 

“Ma’am?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled sleepily, trying and failing to find your balance. “I think… the shock is wearing off. Just… tired.” 

“Would it be alright if I carried you down to the street?” 

You wanted to protest, say you could take the stairs down to your shop, but your tongue felt sluggish in your mouth, and all you managed was a vaguely affirmative sounding hum. 

“Okay, hold on.” 

You felt one hand wrap around your shoulders while the other scooped you up around the knees, and usually, you would protest, insecure about your weight, but the hero settled you against his chest with ease. The instant you were off your feet, every muscle in your body went limp, and you were too tired to even be embarrassed when your head flopped against the hero’s collarbone. 

You had the vague thought that he didn’t smell like warm sugar, followed by a flash of disappointment, but then the hero was moving, jumping, and you were falling through the air. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get the luxury of passing out. 

Once you hit the street, it was all sirens and shouting, flashing lights and flashes of people, so many people. 

True to his word, the hero in the red and purple suit carried you over to an ambulance and two waiting paramedics. The American in you panicked, instinctively trying to refuse care because your shop and home were just destroyed, you didn’t have money for an ambulance ride, too. 

But as the medics peppered you with rapid fire Japanese questions, you were reminded of where you were, and the bright flashlight shining into your eyes sure woke you up a little. 

The next half an hour was a blur. The paramedics tended to the wounds on your palms, knees, and, embarrassingly, ass, but all of the cuts were shallow, and none of them even required stitches. You knew they wouldn’t require stitches anyway, because once you rested up, your quirk would heal you, but you kept your mouth shut and let the medics wrap you in gauze and bandages. You seemed to have rubbed away enough of the blood on your hands that they weren’t suspicious, but it brought you no relief. 

While they worked, you watched the heroes and police out of your peripherals. They were still working to seal off the scene and tend to your neighbors, who were gathered further down the block behind some yellow tape. It didn’t look like anyone else had been injured beside you, and for that you were grateful. 

But your stomach was still in knots. 

More than once, you heard Dynamight’s brash voice bark over the sirens and other voices, and as the paramedics were finishing up the bandages on your hands, a head of ash-blond hair jutted out over the police car closest to you. Unable to stop yourself, your eyes zeroed in on that distinctive hair color, and you saw the explosive hero was speaking—well, yelling—at two police officers. 

Your mouth felt suddenly dry despite the multiple cups of water the medics had fed to you. What was Dynamight saying? 

As if he could hear your thoughts, red eyes snapped to the side and locked onto yours, and the breath hitched in your chest. That crimson gaze held you trapped, unable to look away, so when the two officers he’d been speaking to suddenly stepped into your field of vision, you gasped. 

“Apologies, didn’t mean to startle you, ma’am,” one of the officers said. He was a middle-aged man, balding, with a serious face and a no-nonsense expression. “We just wanted to ask you a few questions, if you feel up to it.” 

You swallowed, your throat clicking, and your heart stuttered into a breakneck pace beneath your sternum. 

“O-Of course,” you replied, only stumbling a little over your Japanese. You smiled at the officers, but the expression felt stilted, and fear seized you by the throat and squeezed until your breaths were shallow and grating in your ears. 

“Thank you.” The balding officer nodded. “My name is Detective Nakahara. I’ve been told you witnessed and were injured in tonight’s attack.” 

You thought the injury part was obvious, given your myriad of bandages and the fact you were sitting in the back of an ambulance, but you nodded to confirm anyway since your voice had abandoned you. 

This was it. He was going to ask you the damning question, and you were going to tell the truth. Lying to a hero in the heat of the moment had been one thing, but lying to a police officer during an official statement was another thing entirely. It would take one database search for them to confirm your quirk and Dynamight’s story, and then you really would be in trouble. Maybe imprisoned instead of deported. You cursed yourself for not knowing more about the laws that were going to quickly ruin your life. 

But… then Nakahara started asking you about the villain and what you saw, and you stuttered out an answer to the best of your ability. You thought this might have been a disarming tactic, to lull you into a false sense of security, but when you got to the part of the story where Dynamight burst through your window, the officer sighed. 

“I take it that’s your apartment there?” Detective Nakahara asked as he gestured to the gaping hole. 

“Y-Yes.” You nodded. “And I own the shop below.” 

Which you now realized looked no better than your apartment. The windows were all blown out, black scorch marks along the door frame, and you didn’t want to even think about the shape of the interior. 

“What kind of shop is it?” he followed up, but he sounded more curious than interrogatory. 

“Clothing alterations,” you said. “M-My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited the shop about a year ago, after they passed.” 

“My condolences,” Nakahara murmured with a small dip of his head, and he seemed genuine. “For your grandparents, and your home and business.” 

You blinked in surprise at the turn in conversation. “O-Oh, thank you, that’s very kind.” 

“Do you have anywhere to go for the night, or were you on the way to the hospital?” he asked as he looked you over. 

“No,” you said quickly and then blushed. “I-I mean, my injuries aren’t serious enough for a hospital visit. Just some cuts and scrapes.” 

“Alright.” Nakahara nodded. “Is there any family we can call for you? Or take you to?” 

“N-No,” you repeated, a little more timidly this time. “My parents… don’t live around here, and I don’t really have any other family.” 

“Any friends?” he asked with a furrowed brow. 

Your face was red-hot now, and you dropped your eyes to your lap, fiddling with your bandaged fingers. What were you going to say? That you were an introvert, and the only “friends” you had were the old ladies who frequented your shop? 

“None that I would want to bother in the middle of the night,” you muttered before you suddenly remembered something. “But, um, one of the heroes said you could maybe take me to a hotel?” 

“Of course, we can take you right now, and we’ll also pay for the night,” the detective said. 

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you started to protest as you snapped your head up, but the officer held up a hand. 

“The city has funds to aid those displaced by villain attacks,” he explained. “The next forty-eight hours are guaranteed, so if I were you, I would use the opportunity to rest.” 

Detective Nakahara glanced down at your bandages, and you bit your lips as you nodded. 

“Okay, thank you for your help then, sir.” It was all you could think to say. 

“You’re welcome.” Nakahara nodded back at you and then reached out to help you out of the ambulance. “If you’ll come this way, we can have an officer collect some things from your apartment, and then we’ll head to the hotel and get you settled.” 

The finality in his tone and the idea of a hotel drew you up short. What… was happening? You had thought the detective was going to interrogate you about your quirk, not… chauffeur you to a nice hotel. 

The practical part of your brain was screaming for you to let it go, but the words were high-diving off your tongue before you could stop them. 

“I-Is that all?” 

Detective Nakahara paused and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Is what all?” 

“I—” Shut up, shut up, shut up! “You didn’t have any more questions for me?” 

“No,” the detective said simply. “We have your statement, and it matches the others we’ve obtained.” Here, he frowned and seemed to study you for a moment. “Did you have any other questions for me?” 

“I… was just wondering what the next steps are for my apartment and shop,” you blurted out the first thing you could think of. “Will the… city pay for repairs? Do I have to fill out some forms?” 

It was an honest question, a real one you had, but your mind was still reeling. He wasn’t going to ask about your quirk? Had… Had Dynamight not said anything? 

Nakahara sighed but held a hand out for you to take, and you absently let him help you down from the ambulance. Then he slowly began walking toward one of the police cars, and you had no choice but to follow since you were still holding onto his arm for balance. 

“Unfortunately,” the detective started, “the city will not be able to repair your home or business.” 

“Why?” you asked with a frown. “I thought you said there were funds.” 

“There are,” he said, and when you looked up at him, you noticed his lips were pursed into a thin line. “And, if the villain himself had thrown debris through your window, then the city would compensate you. But, in this situation, Dynamight caused the damaged.” 

The detective practically spat the blond hero’s name, and your surprise must have shown on your face because Nakahara quickly cleared his throat and schooled his expression. 

“Because of this, his agency will be responsible for repairs, so you will have to contact them,” the officer finished. 

Contact them? You had to contact Dynamight’s agency, which meant… fuck. You felt the blood drain from your face, and your expression must have shown your dismay because Nakahara patted your hand that was still looped through his arm 

“But you can worry about that tomorrow,” he said. “Let’s get your things and get you to the hotel so you can rest.” 

You nodded blankly and let the detective lead you to the open backseat of a police car. Nakahara called another officer over, and the woman asked you questions about where things were in your apartment. You answered numbly, listing out different clothing items and how to get to your bedroom. Then she was gone, and Nakahara stepped away to do something else, so you were suddenly left all alone. 

Unbidden, you looked up and searched for that pair of scarlet eyes, that head of ash-blond hair, but the explosive hero was suddenly nowhere to be found. 

The crime scene continued to bustle around you, but all the while, two thoughts circled each other in your head, like binary stars stuck in each other’s orbit: 

Dynamight didn’t reveal my secret. 

But I’m going to have to face him again.

[harleysarchive]

To Confess Your Love | Charles Leclerc

Fandom: Formula one Warning: Angsty and FLUFFY my god. Not as long as the first one, 3500 words. Pairing: Charles Leclerc x f!reader  Summary: After the dinner party you and Charles haven’t spoken and you just keeping longing for each other. 

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A/N: Part two of To Fall in Love, and thanks again to Screnwriter for the inspiration, enjoy! 

It has been almost a week since the dinner party and you were at the airport waiting for your flight to Portugal. You and Charles haven’t spoken since that evening and you almost wondered if it was just a fling or a one time event that nothing would come from. You frowned slightly when the thought passed by in your mind, but were interrupted by a voice behind you. Lando came down running the aisle with his packback almost sliding down his shoulders.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

“Hey Lando. How have you been? Ready for Portugal?”

“More than ready, I’m so excited. How are you?”

“I’m good.” you said, more like trying to convince yourself that you were.

“Really?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“How about your crush-...” 

Lando didn’t have time to finish the sentence before your hand flew up on his mouth to hush him done.

“Not that loud, you dork.” you whispered loudly at him and he just grinned. “But nothing really, I haven’t heard from him since the dinner. But he is probably busy and I have been busy as well.” 

You tried to hide the heartbreak in your voice, but Lando sensed it and put an arm around, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“Well, if he hurts you I will take care of him.” 

“Thank you.” you smiled at him. The speaker's voice told you that it was time to board the plane, which made the crowd move slowly forward. Lando waved at George and he soon joined you in the line. You and Lando had your seats next to each other and George was just one the other side of the aisle. He took out his phone to snap a picture of the three of you. Lando hugged you and you gave off an excited smile. George wrote the caption:

Ready to take off to Portugal!! 

Instagram went crazy over the picture and the comments were very kind towards you and some were speculating if you and Lando were dating. 

The plane ride to Portugal went by fast, you had a great time with George and Lando. You listen to some music, which spotify almost exclusively recommended sappy love songs to make your heart even heavier. You watched a movie and then it was time to land. Portugal was quite warm and you put on your sunglasses when you left the airport. A taxi was waiting for the McLaren drivers and you waved off George as he joined the Williams team. 

“So how are you going to deal with, you know…”

“With Charles?” you asked and he nodded. You hadn’t realized how close he was going to be to you now and, frankly, you were a nervous wreck thinking about him.

“I will try my best to ignore him, besides, I’m with the McLaren team. So, it’s not like he’s gonna waltz into our building any time soon.” you joked, but your heart hoped otherwise. 

The taxi pulled up by the racing tracks and you were to walk with Lando around the track to get him ready for tomorrow's practice round. Daniel had texted you that he was on his way, but his plane was a bit late. Your heart jumped a bit when you passed the Ferrari building, but you tried your best not to think about it. You were here to work, not to go after the stupid crush you had on Charles Leclerc. But your heart didn’t want to listen, it wanted him to notice you, it wanted to have that moment from the dinner. The hand touches, staring into those gorgeous hazel eyes. His warm hand on your lower back guiding you, and his hand stroking your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. Almost kissing him. 

Please don’t let it be a dream that has to die, you begged. Please don’t let this be all that comes out of this. 

An arm snaked around your shoulders, which brought you back from your ruminating thoughts of your current heartache. 

“You look sad, something happened?” Daniel asked. 

“Oh, no. It’s nothing.”

“Hey, I know you well enough to know that you are lying. What has happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, (Y/N)-...”

“No, I mean nothing. He hasn’t talked to me since the dinner party.” you said and put your hands against your face. 

Daniel looked at you with a confused look, then he realized you were talking about Charles.

“Have you tried to talk to him?”

“NO.” your eyes widened and head flew up to look at him.

“Whoa, there is nothing wrong with being the first one to reach out, you know.”

“But I don’t want to annoy him.”

“And what if he feels the same about contacting you?” 

It pained Daniel a bit to help you with your crush on Charles, but it pained him even more to see you so sad over it. And from what he saw at the dinner party, the two of you really liked each other and he couldn’t deny you that happiness. I liked you and would always be protective of you, but he wanted you to be happy. Even if it meant dating a rival. He was about to leave you with your thoughts.

“Oh, and if the two of you start dating, don’t you dare leave me and Lando for Ferrari. You will stay with us.” 

You smiled at his silly remark. You gave him a hug before he left and reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere. You rose from the chair to get Lando for your round around the track. As you walked out from the McLaren building you saw people coming from the Ferrari building, Carlos was one of them with his manager. The same was for the AlphaTauri building and you could see Pierre in the crowd. He noticed you and waved at you. You smiled and waved back, but your smile suddenly turned to confusion when you saw that he was walking towards you.

“Hey, (Y/N) right?” 

“Yes, it is. How are you doing Pierre?”

“I’m good, how are you?”

“I’m good too, I was on my way to walk the track with Lando.”

It felt like Pierre wanted to talk to you about something but changed his mind.

“Well, I’m off too. I see you around.”

“Okay. See ya.” you said confused as Pierre walked away from you. 

Odd, you thought but started to walk towards Lando’s room. But when you turned around your whole body froze. Standing by the Ferrari building stood Charles, talking to one of his managers. You hated how your body reacted over seeing him again, that you couldn’t act normal. Like nothing had happened. But it had and you had played the scenes back in your head like a broken record. You had danced to every love song that you could find and felt like you could conquer the world. You had felt the butterflies late into the night, making it hard to sleep.

But now. Seeing him again made you lose all your confidence and your heartache felt even worse than before. You almost prayed that he didn’t notice you so you could sneak away, but deep down you hoped, wished, that he would see you. Notice you. To give you the same attention he had last week. But he and his team had walked the opposite way and he hadn’t looked in your direction once.

But he knew that you were there, he had seen Pierre talking to you, but he didn’t dare to go up to you. But oh, he wanted to.So bad that his body was aching for it and screaming at him to move. But he didn’t. So, instead of acting on his feelings, he avoided you, thinking it would be easier. Pierre had left you because he thought that Charles would come up to you himself and confess his love to you, but he almost got angry by the fact that he didn’t. Why did he leave you there? 

Charles continued to focus on the race and tried his best to ignore his speeding heart every time he passed the McLaren building. Pierre on the other and would not let this go. He hurried up to Charles and stopped him in his tracks.

“What are you doing?”

“Focusing on the race, why?” 

“Oh really, not ignoring a certain someone?” Pierre asked and Charles could hear the annoyance in his voice. And he hated that Pierre was right.

“No, why?” he lied. 

“Really? So, you looking at (Y/N) with those puppy eyes was nothing.”

Charles swallowed hard and tried to look unbothered by Pierre’s remark but his red cheeks and ears betrayed him. 

“Why don’t you act on it, mon ami?”

Pierre had to leave him because he had to walk the track as well. Charles let out a sigh, he knew Pierre was right. He did want to act on his feelings, but he was afraid. The what if’s haunted him, making him nervous, which was unusual for him.  

The track walking had gone well for Lando. He was super focused and it felt like he was going to do a fantastic race here as well. You walked back to the McLaren building, making yourself ready to take Daniel on his round. You looked out the window to see Charles discussing something with Carlos. 

Fuck, you thought, as you had to walk past them to get to Daniel, so you mustered up all the confidence that you could find within yourself and went out. Charles had his back against you so Carlos would be the first to notice you.

“Hello.” you smiled at Carlos as you got closer to them.

“Hello.” he greeted you politely. Charles turned around when he heard your voice.

“Hey.” Charles said, but you didn’t dare to look at him for too long. You could feel your cheeks become flustered just by greeting him. Him on the other hand had his eyes on you the whole time as you walked away. Carlos followed his gaze to see what had gotten his attention.

“Do you know her?”

“Wha-... Who?” Charles said, trying his best to disguise his flustered state. Carlos just laughed at him and patted him on the back. 

You walked up to Daniel. 

“Ready to walk the track?”

“Sure thing.” he said and snaked an arm around your shoulders. You smiled at him and the two of you started walking towards the track. Daniel saw that Charles was looking at you and Daniel brought you closer to him, trying to protect you from his gaze. Charles' expression soured by Daniel’s action, but this made him determined to do something about his feelings. He was not going to let you go.

The walk with Daniel was different from Lando’s. Daniel was more relaxed but nonetheless as focused as Lando. You took notes and asked him different questions, standard procedure. 

“I think that’s it.” you said. 

“Great! It’s soon time for dinner, are you coming?”

“Not yet, I’m going to take a walk before dinner.” you said. You felt the need to be alone for a moment. Daniel nodded and hugged you from the side before he took off. You walked back to the McLaren building and took your bag. The weather was nice and your mind needed to be alone for a while. You got out of the building, stealing a glance at the Ferrari building, which made your heart feel heavy. But you couldn’t dwell on it too much, maybe it wasn’t meant to be. 

Comotion was heard from the Ferrari building, drawing your attention towards the crowd that exited. Charles was in the crowd with his sunglasses. But you couldn’t stop staring at him and how good he looked in that red shirt. As if he felt that someone was looking at him, his head turned towards you and you quickly focused on the ground.

His eyes were still on you and he took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you. You looked up again and met his eyes. Electricity sparkled inside your body when you met his hazel eyes, you almost felt hypnotised by him and felt how your body wanted to go to him. It was drawn to him, like a magnet. He smiled at you, making his damn dimples visible again. You almost couldn’t take it, your heart almost couldn’t take it. But you smiled back. Charles broke off the gaze when someone called for him and you woke up from your trance. You tightened your grip around your bag and started to walk towards the exit. 

Charles saw how you were leaving.

It’s now or never, he thought and tried to catch up with you. You felt a presence behind you and to your surprise - and delight - it was Charles. 

“Hey.” he said.

“Hello.” you greeted him. His eyes locked with yours again and he completely forgot what he was going to do. His mind became completely blank and all he could focus on was you. You were the only one he wanted to focus on. His body wanted to get closer, his hands wanted to touch you and he could feel his eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips. His hazel eyes drew you in and you could see all the emotions that were fighting inside of him. 

“How did your track walk go?” you asked. His mind woke up from the sound of your voice.

“It went well, I think I’m ready for tomorrow's practice round.”

“I like the sound of it.” you smirked. He let out a sigh. 

“Are you going somewhere?” 

“Yeah I needed some air and to see something else than the tracks.”

“Well I know a few places, if you want me to join you?” his eyes looked at you hopefully but they also showed a bit of worry. Worry of rejection. Worry that you were mad at him for being such a coward towards you. 

“I would love to.” you beamed. He held out his arm for you. You linked it with his, feeling the electricity spark again when you touched him. 

“Can we stop by the hotel so I can get changed?” you asked. 

“Of course.” 

He had his Ferrari parked nearby and opened the door for you. You thanked him, before he started the car and you drove towards the hotel. The two of you talked about how he felt about the practice round tomorrow and how he was feeling for the race on sunday. He had a steady grip on the steering wheel, but he wanted to lay one hand on top of your knee, but he didn’t dare to. He didn’t know how you were feeling. Finally at the hotel, you said that you would meet at the lobby in 30 minutes. You rushed to your room as fast as the elevator would let you and tried to find something that fitted for your date… Wait, was this a date? 

You couldn’t dwell too much on the idea, but it was still in the back of your head when you walked towards the elevator. Charles was already in the lobby when you exited the elevator.

“Ready to go?” he asked. 

“Absolutely.” you said and he held out his arm for you to take. He guided you to his Ferrari and opened the door for you. You thanked him and he drove you around the area, talking about everything and nothing. You laughed and his jokes and shrieked when he sped up with his car. He gave you a smug smile over how excited you were. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked when he pulled up his car in the small city. 

“Starving.” 

“Good, cause I know a place.” 

The two of you got out of the car and he guided you down the road to a restaurant that looked adorable.

“They have delicious food.” 

“Sounds perfect.” 

The waiter showed you a table that looked over the town. It was beautiful and you looked over at Charles. He was wearing his sunglasses so you couldn’t quite see what he was looking at. But his eyes were on you, admiring how you looked at everything with such awe and wonder. Like everything fascinated you to some degree and he liked that. Something distracted you, making you turn your head away from Charles. He took this as an opportunity to move closer to you. He put his arm on the backrest of your chair and when you turned your attention back to him, you noticed that he was closer. He had his hand on the table and your mind was thinking. This is exactly like the dinner last week… But you didn’t put your hand over his this time. The waiter came back with your drinks and took your orders for dinner. Charles then turned his attention back to you, contemplating if he should touch your shoulder like he had done on the dinner. Then a pang of guilt washed over him when he remembered the dinner. 

“You look beautiful, (Y/N).”

His comment made you jump in surprise and you turned towards him, but you could also feel how you got flustered over it.

“Thank you, so do you. But you always do.” you said with a smirk on your face. Knowing that you said the exact same thing last week and he remembered. He had had that sentence in his head ever since that evening. That you thought he looked good. He cleared his throat.

“Listen, I need to tell you something.”

You wanted to play cool, but that phrase just made your body react in a fight-or-flight mode.

“Yes?”

“About the dinner… I was… I was going too... '' Charles stuttered, feeling his whole face turning flustered. He was probably a deep crimson color at the moment.

“You don’t have to-...” you tried to interrupt but your tongue got stuck when you felt his hand on top of your knee.

“I really wanted to talk to you after that dinner, but...”

“But?”

“But I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” you said dumbfounded. “Of what?”

“That you would reject me.”

Your heart melted over his words. How could this even be real? How could he, Charles Leclerc, be afraid of you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), rejecting him?

“Why would I ever reject you?” you whispered. He took off his sunglasses to get a better look at you. He wanted to be sure that you were honest with him. And nothing about your body language or eyes told him otherwise.

“I could’ve talked to you too, but I was scared that you would think I was annoying for reaching out.”

“Annoying?” he said, confused. “You couldn’t be annoying. If you had reached out to me I would’ve been more than happy to answer.”

“Really?” you beamed.

“Of course. You have already been on my mind since the dinner party.” he confessed, feeling his cheeks burn even more. Your smile couldn’t get bigger, were you hearing this in real life or was this a dream coming true?

Charles' eyes were flickering between your eyes and lips again. He leaned in and this time you had no one to interrupt your moment. The kiss you shared was sweet and full of anticipation. All the electricity that you had felt before sparked like a firework now, the butterflies in your stomach were going crazy and your whole body wanted nothing more than to be close to him. Your hand reached for his chin and his hand was pressing against your back. None of you wanted to break off the kiss, in fear of coming back to reality. But the sound of food coming your way made you break it off, looking at each other with such adoration and love that nothing could come in between the two of you. Both flustered and nervous from the kiss but also full of adrenaline and excitement. Conversation flowed as never before, you talked about the dinner and how you had felt towards Charles and vice versa. 

After dinner Charles wanted to take you to the beach before you headed back to the hotel. The two of you walked hand in hand towards the ocean. You breathed in the salty air and Charles took out his phone to snatch a photo of you. He also started a slow song on spotify.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he grabbed your hand and placed the other on your lower back.

“Dancing with you.” he said, smiling with a tint of rosy cheeks. You just laughed at his sweet actions and danced with him until the sun was setting. He guided you back to the car and drove you to the hotel. When in the lobby you shared one last longing look before you had to be seperated. 

“I’ll see you again?” you asked.

“Of course.” he answered and kissed you knuckles.

“And that’s a promise?”

“That is a promise, ma chérie.”

You smiled and headed for the elevator and the last thing you saw before the door closed was Charles’ flustered face and boyish grin. He was on cloud nine and beyond. He didn’t know when was the last time he had felt this in love and to know that his love was reciprocated.

Je t’aime, (Y/N). Ma chérie. 

A/N: Thank you for reading 🥰

Tagged: @ohmyolympusssy @perfectfantasies22​ @lu-morningstar​

[midgardianweasley]

Movie Night

Movie night

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: It’s friday night, or more commonly known as movie night for the Avengers. A horror movie was put on and Y/N isn’t feeling so brave, luckily she’s got a Romanoff nearby.

Warnings: coulrophobia (fear of clowns), mentions of the IT movie and pennywise.

Word Count: 2.5k

Идиоты. - ‘Idiots.’

Requests are open!

“I vote action movie”

“We watched an Action movie last week, Sam.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly looking up and meeting my eyes, earning a small smile in return, attempting to provide some sanity for the man.

“Plus, do you not think we’ve had enough action for one week?” Bucky grumbled, this week having taken a toll on everyone. We were all exhausted from our missions, some more than others, the soldier being one of them.

“Okay okay, no action, damn” Sam put his hands up in defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to win this one. A few more options had been suggested, Bruce suggested rom-com, Thor suggested comedy, Vision proposed a documentary, all of which were shut down with groans and sounds of protest.

I turned to my assassin girlfriend who had been sitting beside me watching the scene unfold with an amused smirk on her face, her green eyes darting around the room whenever someone else spoke and taking sips of the drink she had in her hand. I nudged her slightly to get her attention

“Hey.”

“Hi”

“If it was up to you, what would you choose for movie night?” I asked. She morphed her face into a thoughtful one, still with a slight smile on her face, taking time to make her decision.

“If it was completely up to me? I would-”

“Aha!” Tony interrupted with a loud snap of his fingers. “I know, we haven’t watched a horror movie in a while, and the new IT movie just came out, we can watch that” He smirked, proud of his contribution to the discussion at hand. I looked around the room, praying that they would pick anything else, literally anything, even Vision’s documentary.

Unfortunately, everyone seemed to be really into it as they all shared nod’s and “yeah” “sounds good” before splitting up to go and get their snacks and blankets to bring back to the large sofa.

Although I wouldn't admit it to the rest of the group, I was absolutely terrified of clowns and have been since I was a child. If there was a clown at a birthday party or an event, I’d pretend I was sick so that my mum wouldn’t make me go. She soon noticed a pattern in my behaviour, putting the pieces together and realising that I hadn't come down with the flu three times that month, I was avoiding the ‘entertainment’ of the parties.

She tried explaining that it was just a guy in makeup and a funny suit, showing off fun tricks and jokes. However, 9 year old me still refused to attend, faking a sneeze and hiding under the blanket.

“Woah, Y/L/N, you good over there?” Tony furrowed his brows, concern written all over his face. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

I wish it was a ghost.

I regained my composure, nodding and sending a firm smile his way, hoping that would be enough to prevent any further questioning. With a shrug, he made his way out of the room and caught up with Thor to explain what ‘IT’ was.

“You don’t look so good, sure you’re okay?” Nat placed her hand on my back, rubbing small, reassuring circles with her palm. I wanted to put on a brave face and tell her I was fine, that there wasn’t a problem and my heart wasn’t racing with fear, but the look on her face, while caring and concerned, was also warning me not to lie to her. Not that i’d manage anyway, she always had ways of finding out the truth eventually.

I shook my head, letting out a small sigh and turning in my seat to address her. My eyes met hers and I felt my heart settle slightly just by looking at her, she always made me feel safe.

“What’s wrong sweetheart?” She whispered, her hand coming up to rest on my cheek, her thumb stroking my cheekbone in small movements.

“It’s so silly, really.”

“Nothing is silly if it’s upsetting you Detka. Tell me.”

“It’s this movie.”

The confusion was obvious on her face, yet she stayed quiet, allowing me to elaborate.

“I just, I’ve never been the best with clowns. Ever since I was a child, I’ve had this fear of them. If I saw one, I’d run in the opposite direction, which was more often than one would think. I mean, seriously, who wants one of those things at a party? What happened to princess parties? Or tea parties!” I exclaimed, my tone becoming more intense as I spoke.

Natasha nodded, I could almost see the cogs turning in her head, figuring out how to approach the situation. After a minute or two, she focused her eyes back on me and her hands had trailed down to meet with mine, interlocking them in the process.

“Do you want to skip it tonight?” She suggested.

“No, no, I don’t want to cause a fuss. Plus, I kinda don’t want the others knowing.”

“Are you absolutely sure? I’m sure we can pull a sickie for one night.”

“I’m sure. Just, can you stay next to me? And let me hide if it gets really bad?”

“Of course you can. I’ll be next to you the whole time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

___________________

We were at the haunted house scene in the movie. There had already been jumpscares that I'd managed to avoid for the most part, but I don’t think I've moved past Georgie’s death yet, let alone have time to process the psycho killer clown on the screen.

Eddie was in a room alone, he was staring at this dirty, old fridge and a white hand had appeared, curling itself around and tapping on the side so you could only see it’s fingers. I tugged the blanket that was laid across Natasha and i’s laps and pulled it up to my nose, eyes still on the screen, but prepared to take cover. It appears as though nothing has changed from all those years ago.

As the fridge door creaked open, my blanket had raised higher and higher, my grip tightening by the second while the hand reappeared, this time, you could see it’s entire body contorted into this small space.

“Nope. No, absolutely fucking not. No.” I mumbled, covering my eyes with my fluffy shield. Luckily, Nat had stolen the sofa at the back, meaning I could skip the scary parts without anyone taking much notice, them being too entranced by the movie. Weirdo’s.

In my safety bubble I'd created, I felt my girlfriend’s hand on my thigh, rubbing small circles to reassure me that I was okay, and that she was here. I shuffled a little so I was closer to her, if that was even possible, her then adjusting so that her hand was still on my thigh, but another arm was wrapped securely around me, pulling me into her side a little more.

I assumed we would stay like that for a bit, until she started to shift more noticeably and lifted the part of the blanket closest to her, and put it over her own head, taking me by surprise, a faint gasp leaving my lips when seeing that she’d joined me.

“You doing okay under here?” She spoke softly, a hint of amusement playing on her face as she looked at me folded up into a ball.

“I am. This blanket protects me from all.”

“Of course it does, the fluffier it is, the more protection, right?” She quoted words i’d spoken earlier on when bringing in the blanket for us.

“Are you sure you’re not going to boil under there?”

“Nope. And even if I do, the fluffier the blanket, the more protection from cannibal clowns.” I’d explained proudly. Yes, I'm an Avenger that fights extraterrestrials and demigods and still runs to a blanket for safety, leave me alone.

We stayed under there for a minute or two, holding hands and sharing small kisses while the movie continued and we hid in our little bubble.

“C’mon lovebirds, the movie isn’t over yet, you can continue that when we’ve gone to bed if you must.” Stark called out, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and retreat back to her previous position.

I don’t know what ran through my mind, I clearly didn’t think twice about the situation I was in, my default being to follow Natasha and pull the blanket down and off my head. Upon resurfacing from my cocoon, I looked towards the Television. Bad idea. With a shriek that I'm almost certain could be heard from Asgard, I flew under the blanket again after seeing Pennywise with all of his teeth on show, edging towards Eddie to eat him.

Natasha’s arms wound their way around me again, slightly shaking now from the fright. Even though the blanket tended to muffle sounds, I could hear the room fill with laughter and comments from the Avengers.

“I didn’t know your voice could go that high Y/L/N”

“Pennywise! You scared Y/N!”

“Y/N, it’s literally-”

“How about you guys shut up and watch the movie? Otherwise I swear to god Thor, I’ll bring snakes in here and Sam, I’ll cut the wings off of your suit.” I heard the redhead next to me threaten, alongside some more punishments to the others who laughed, immediately silencing them, all of them knowing that she wasn’t one for an empty threat.

Even though the laughter died down and no more words were spoken, tears still built up in my eyes and were daring to fall down my cheeks. I feel so embarrassed. A room full of superheroes and I was scared to death over a fictional clown in front of all of them.

I tried to keep my sniffles to a minimum and at a level where no one could hear me, however, they seemed to have caught Nat’s attention as she whispered to me, loud enough for me to hear, but quietly so that it was only me that could hear.

“Mind if I come in?”

I chose not to verbally respond, instead, I pulled the edge of the blanket up, allowing her to bend down and make her way underneath. After making herself comfortable, she turned to me and did, what felt like study, my face before tutting under her breath.

“Идиоты. Are you okay?” I smiled at her speaking Russian. She often switched between the two, interchanging within sentences. I’d been around her enough to pick up on some of the terms, funnily enough she’d said that word so often, my understanding was immediate.

“Feeling a bit humiliated” My voice came out weak and slightly gravelly from the crying, her thumb immediately wiped the tears off of my cheeks, lingering afterwards.

“Don’t be. Everyone has their fears, you shouldn’t be embarrassed by having them. Okay? It just means you're human.” She patiently explained, sparking a question to leave my lips before realising.

“Do you have a fear?”

She smiled “mhm”

“Can I know what it is?”

She leaned in closer to me, lips hovering beside my ear so I could feel and hear her breathing quietly.

“Идиоты” She whispered, resulting in me clamping my hand over my mouth to limit the noise my laughter was making.

“There’s that smile I love.” She took my chin in her index finger and her thumb, her face once again, coming closer towards mine before our lips met in the middle, sharing a soft, quick kiss, distracting me from any embarrassment i’d previously felt.

________________

The movie had just finished, everyone was getting up and starting to clear up any mess they’d made, mainly popcorn that had fallen everywhere, Wanda and Vision being the main culprit, jumping at the scary parts had caused a popcorn avalanche near their seats.

Nat and I gathered our blankets and snacks we’d brought in, trying to ignore the slight tension hanging in the air, and just as we were about to walk to our bedroom, I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Peter.

Rocking back and forth on his heels and fidgeting with his hands, he smiled.

“Hey, uh- miss Y/L/N. Miss Romanoff, sorry, I just wanted to come and make sure you were okay.” He rushed, clearly anxious to approach us considering the telling off Natasha gave everyone earlier.

“I’m okay, thank you Peter. You can call me Y/N by the way, ‘miss’ makes me feel old.” I chuckled, visibly seeing his shoulders relax at my response, he was really sweet, never wanting to get on anyone’s bad side. He’s a good kid.

“Sorry mi-,Y/N, sorry, I’ll remember for next time. That movie was pretty freaky, if there’s anything I can do to help, let me know.”

“I will, thank you.”

Feeling more relaxed, I made a slow but steady beeline for the bedroom, wanting to have cuddles with Nat and go to sleep, hopefully forget the movie ever happened. Soon enough, we were both changed into a vest top, I wore a pair of shorts and Nat wore a pair of sweats and we were in bed, facing each other with our legs tangled together, our noses bumping every so often.

“I love you” I mumbled in between kisses, eyes opening briefly to be met by her green orbs looking back at me.

“I love you more, Detka.”

A silence then overtook the room, only being able to hear the breeze outside and a slight whistle from where it was flying through the trees. I’d usually adore this, finding peace in the wind and the darkness, tonight however, it felt unsettling. All I could hear in my head was the soundtrack to the movie, picturing the bloody teeth and that creepy smile from earlier in my head.

“Love?” I nudged my girlfriend’s nose gently, hoping she was still somewhat awake.

“Mhmm?”

“Can you, can you possibly sing to me?” Her eyes fluttered open, a sleepy smile on her face, wrapping her arms tightly around me before humming a quiet melody, sending me into a blissful sleep.

By noon the next day, I had received apologies from everyone in the compound, a couple of bone crushing hugs from Thor and some complementary pancakes that Wanda had made with some help from Bruce, aprons on and covered in flour. Everyone tucked into their individual stacks, enjoying some lighthearted conversation, Nat taking the opportunity to press a small kiss to the back of my hand, I quickly returned the gesture. It was lovely.

Movie night was a rollercoaster, but at the end of the day, I was surrounded by the best people, and nothing would change that, not even the fear of clowns.

Though they’re still really fucking scary.

taglist: @the-dumbass-that-throws-knives

[waitimcomingtoo]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter five rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!reader

Synopsis: you are Peters greatest love and Spider-Man’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

“Why are you in such a mood?” Ned asked his best friend as they walked to their college campus. Peter had been grumpy all morning and Ned was quick to notice. He usually showed up at Ned’s door exhausted but eager to share the adventures from the night before, but he seemed defeated today.

“I got my ass beat last night.” Peter grumbled as he shouldered his backpack.

“By who?” Ned wondered.

“I don’t even know.” Peter sighed. “I think it was some kind of alien.”

“What’d it look like?” Ned asked. It wasn’t uncommon for Ned to ask a million questions after being told something Spider-Man related. After all, he was the guy in the chair.

“Like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” Peter said swallowed and tried to push the previous night from his mind. He’d rather focus on this morning, and the moment he had shared with you. Peter felt such a strong connection to you, and he would’ve stayed on that rooftop all day if he could.

“Describe it to me.” Ned pleaded, tearing Peter from his thoughts.

“I don’t know. It was like eight feet tall, black, and bald. And it was super veiny.” Peter grimaced while Ned’s eyes widened.

“Oh my God. You fought Shaquille O’Neal?” Ned gasped.

“Keep your voice down. I did not fight Shaquille O’Neal.” Peter whispered harshly. Ned always seemed one step away from blowing Peters cover. Peter gave bashful smiles to the passing students who gave him weird looks upon hearing Ned’s words.

“Terry Crews?” Ned continued. Peter rolled his eyes at his best friend and starting walking to class.

“No. This is serious.” Peter said, his voice heavy with annoyance.

“I know it’s serious. You got beat up by The Rock.” Ned remarked. Peter fidgeted with the strings on his backpack, still bothered knowing he was beaten so easily by Venom.

“The Rock is Samoan, not black.” Peter corrected.

“I know. But I heard “bald” and I just automatically envisioned The Rock.” Ned defended.

“There’s another thing. It had this huge, gaping mouth with rows and rows of teeth. I keep thinking about it.” Peter shivered. “It came so close to me. And its tongue was super long. It was like a cracked out frog.”

“So a ninja turtle? You got beat up by a ninja turtle?” Ned gawked.

“It wasn’t a ninja turtle.” Peter snapped. “ It was black, remember?”

“So an emo ninja turtle.” Ned deadpanned.

“It kept saying “we”. “ Peter remembered.

“What do you mean?”

“There was only one of them, but they only referred to themself as “we” as if there were multiple of them.” Peter explained.

“Do you think there could be more? Like an alien army or something?” Ned asked incredulously. Peter hadn’t even thought about that.

“Maybe. I remember something else, it’s name was Venom.” Peter recalled. He distinctly remembered those words coming out of the creatures mouth.

“Venom?” Ned repeated, clearly finding it cool.

“Yeah. And I told it my name. I used my regular voice too.” Peter realized. He usually disguised his voice when speaking, but he had been so scared that he forgot to. It haunted him knowing the creature now knew who he was and he wondered if it knew both of his identities.

“Wow. This is so cool. Not cool for you, because you might die. But this is super cool for me.” Ned smiled as he envisioned what Venom might look like.

“Thanks, ned. Actually, wait.” Peter stopped in his tracks. “One more thing happened.”

“What?” Ned whispered as they approached their class.

“Venom was about to eat me but then it started talking to itself. It sounded maybe like it was having a conversation with someone? I’m not sure, I could only hear one side of it.” Peter explained. “It put me down, well it threw me down, and let me go. But before it left, it said something about a girl. I don’t really remember. I was too focused on catching my breath.”

“Catching your breath? Were you running?”

“No. It choked me.” Peter told him as he lightly touched his neck.

“Kinky.” Ned smirked as he took a seat next to Peter in their class.

“That’s gross.” Peter stifled a laugh. “Did I tell you about this morning with Y/N?”

“No. Tell me.” Ned said. He wasn’t disappointed in the change of topic. He was glad Peter had moved on on from Liz, finally. Peter recounted the discussion he had with you that morning, barely getting through it without blushing and laughing at certain parts.

“I really like her, Ned. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. She’s so amazing. I barely know her, but I can tell already. I want to know everything about her. I want to hear her full story. And most of all, I want to be a part of that story.” Peter declared but frowned suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” Ned asked.

“After our talk, we just kinda sat there staring at each other for a while.” Peter began. “She kinda leaned in, and I did too, but then this seagull flew by and scared us half to death. We laughed about it but the moment was gone.”

“So you almost kissed her?” Ned smiled. “Why is that upsetting you?”

“Because what if that was our chance and I blew it?” Peter feared. “What if that seagull was a sign from above that I was in way over my head? Like God was asking me who I was to think I could just kiss the most perfect girl in the world? She’s so cool, Ned. Way too cool for me. She’s already had a boyfriend and I’ve never even kissed anyone.”

“If it’s meant to happen, it will happen.” Ned assured him.

“Or, the same thing that happened with Liz will happen.” Peter argued. “I won’t tell her how I feel and then she’ll be gone forever.”

“Then don’t let that happen.” Ned reasoned. “Tell Y/N how you feel. Do it tonight, before you go on patrol. And if she doesn’t feel the same, then at least you’ll know. Isn’t it better to know?”

“When did you become such a love expert?” Peter teased as the professor walked into the room.

“Since I started dating Betty. She’s opened my eyes to what love really is.” Ned shrugged. “Tell her tonight. Then tell me how it goes. I’m here for you either way.”

Peter nodded and gave Ned a thankful smile before turning his attention to the professor.

On his walk home from campus, Peter spotted you walking down the sideways. Ned’s words of encouragement rang in his ears and he made a brash decision.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” Peter called after you, making you turn around.

“Hey Parker. How was kindergarten?” You teased him.

“Alright alright. Majoring in chemical engineering is hardly kindergarten. And I’m only one year younger than you.” Peter reminded you. “I don’t want you to have a heart attack on me, grandma.”

“Watch it, sonny.” You kept with the joke. “I’ll hit you with my purse and then say something mildly racist.”

“Just like my grandma.” Peter laughed in amusement. “We’re gross. And not funny.”

“We really are.” You scrunched your nose. “Couple of gross ass orphans.”

Peter laughed again, feeling comfortable enough with you to joke about a tragic situation.

“Look, Y/N, I really enjoyed our talk this morning. I really enjoyed all our talks so far actually. I guess I just like talking to you. ” Peter began. He looked nervous all the sudden, like he lost his stamina. You raised your eyebrows hopefully, as there were only so many ways this conversation could go.

“I like talking to you too, Peter.” You said honestly, hoping he’d continue. Hoping he’d ask that question. Your answer seemed to give Peter the confidence he needed to go on.

“Really? Um, that’s great cause I really like talking to you too. I already said that. Oh god. I’m crashing. I-“ he began to flail and you calmed him down by taking a few steps closer. You were almost touching at that point. He stopped talking immediately and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Is there someone you wanted to ask me, Peter?” You asked slowly as you looked at him through your eyelashes.

Damn. He was tall too.

“Yes, actually. I, um, will you…would you maybe want to-“

“Hiya kids!” A gravely voice came from the front stairs of your apartment, completely cutting Peter off. Peter looked up and angrily rolled his eyes.

“Don’t look now. It’s Henry.” Peter grumbled. Henry was the creepy neighbor with the foot fetish.

“Oh Dear God.” Peter said in a low voice.

“What?” You panicked when you saw Peters expression change.

“You’re wearing flip flops.” He pointed at your black painted toes and you felt the color drain from your face.

“Run!” He whispered harshly. You bolted into your apartment and Peter ran into his. Once inside, Peter blew out an angry breath. He had been interrupted twice in one day when trying to talk to you, and he worried that it was a sign.

Back at the apartment, you sat on your bed with headphones in. You were prepping for your interview with Cletus Kasady by writing down some questions you wanted to ask him. It was hard figuring out what to ask a serial killer. You looked at your notepad and sighed. All you had written down was “but why tho?” in sloppy handwriting. You tore out the page, crumbled it up, and threw it at the trash can. When you went to write something else down, you noticed the paper ball still stuck to your hand. You shook your hand but it still wouldn’t come off.

“What the hell?” You grumbled as you shook your hand.

“Oh. This might be our fault.” Venom said suddenly.

“What might be your fault?” You asked as you continued to shake the paper off your hand, but to no avail.

“We sort of went inside Spider-Man when we were talking to him yesterday.” Venom said timidly and the paper ball dropped from your hand.

“What?” You demanded and Venom went silent.

“Come out here.” You said, like an owner to a dog.

“We’d rather stay inside.” Venom said softly.

“Get out here now. You need to explain yourself young lady.” You said sternly. Venom slowly manifested and looked at you with sad eyes.

“I’m 600 million years old, by the way.” Venom added. “You can’t call me young lady.”

“What do you mean you went inside Spider-Man?” You ignored her comment.

“When we were choking him we put one of our tendrils inside him and swirled around.” Venom explained. “He didn’t even feel it. We did though. He’s very squishy on the inside.”

“You…what?” You didn’t even know where to start. “How does that explain the paper sticking to me?”

“We think we absorbed his powers.” Venom said. “We used to watch videos of him on YouTube after you went to bed. He can stick to walls and stuff. We think that’s why the paper ball stuck to you.”

“Since when can we absorb powers?” You wondered as you looked at your hands.

“We never had a host before. We don’t really know how it works.” Venom reminded you. “But back on Klyntar, our home planet, the Grandmaster used to tell us we could absorb the powers of superhuman beings. Judging by your newfound stickiness, we think it worked.”

“What else can Spider-Man do?” You asked. “Since you’re such a big fan.”

“He can shoot webs out of his wrists. And he can return lost dogs.” Venom answered, sounding a little annoyed.

“Do you have something against Spider-Man?” You chuckled a little at her tone.

“We hate what he did last night. He thought we were the bad guy, and he let the real bad guy get away. He judged us before he had the full story. We’re not a bad guy.” Venom defended. You were surprised to hear how passionate she was about this and gave her a soft smile.

“Let’s not worry about Spider-Man right now. I want to test out our new abilities. Let’s rock and roll, baby.” You cheered, complete with rock and roll hands. The second you touched your middle finger and ring finger to your palm, a black, web-like tendril shot out from your wrist and stuck to the ceiling. You stared at the web with a gaping mouth, weakly shaking your wrist to see if it would stay attached.

It did.

“Maybe that’s one of our new abilities.” Venom said. You looked back and forth between her and the gooey web coming out of your wrist.

“Oh my God! What’s happening?” You screamed. You took your fingers off your palm and the web retracted back into your wrist. Looking at your wrist incredulously, you made the rock and roll hand again and the same web shot out from your wrist. This time, it grabbed the ceiling fan.

“V-Venom?” You asked. You didn’t know what to say.

“Try to aim it at something.” She suggested. You aimed your wrist and the lamp across the room and touched your fingers to your palm. The black web shot across the room and grabbed onto the lamp. You quickly yanked your arm back to pull the lamp towards yourself. The lamp flew across the room, smashed you in the face, and left you with a bloody nose.

“Ow.” You cried, gingerly touching your nose.

“We see this as a absolutely win.” Venom cheered. You shot her a look and went to get cleaned up.

After about a week of practice, and very little work on your questions for Cletus, you had a better handle on your webbing ability. Of course, the week also consisted of long talks with Peter on the roof, late patrols of New York, the occasional run in with a criminal, late night FaceTime calls with Peter, and beating the shit out of Spider-Man, twice. Venom eventually grew bored of using the new powers around the house, so it was time for the final test.

You stood at the rooftop ledge and looked down, talking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

“It’s a long way down.” You commented.

“Yep.” Venom replied in your head.

“We could die.” You added.

“Yep.”

“Ready?”

“We’re ready.” Venom grinned as you transformed. You stepped off the ledge and fell freely for a while, screaming the whole way down.

“Stop being a little bitch! Shoot a web!” Venom yelled. You aimed a web at a building and began to swing. You were too close to the ground and ended up knocking over a bunch of tables at an outdoor restaurant. People ran away in fear while others took out their cameras and recorded.

“We’re not here to hurt you! Peace and love!” Venom shouted as you continued to swing through the steers of New York. People began to cheer upon hearing your words.

“Do you hear that, Y/N? People are cheering. They love us.” Venom said happily.

“I love us too.” You replied. You were even happier than she was. You knew how much it hurt Venom to be seen as a monster, it was why she hated being called a parasite. You also knew it was why she hated Spider-Man. He was praised for stopping bad guys while Venom was seen as one of the bad guys he needed to stop.

“Hey, what is that thing?” A man called from the street. Venom stopped swinging and landed on the street. You proudly turned to the crowd of people, a massive grin on your face. There it was, our favorite question.

“We…are Venom.” Venom growled. People took pictures and videos of you from a distance.

“You can come closer. We won’t hurt you.” Venom assured the crowd.

“Are you like the anti Spider-Man?” Someone asked.

“Spider-Man is a joke. He can’t protect this city like we can. We are no Spider-Man. We are Venom.” Venom roared. A few people took a step back and you began to feel uneasy.

“Hey, King Kong. I want a word with you.” A sassy voice quipped from the crowd. A man in yellow sunglasses and a suit stepped forward, and you bet your ass you recognized him.

“My name is Tony Stark. Heard of me? Of course you have. Would you mind coming back to my tower with me?” He asked, but it felt more like a demand. The people in the crowd slowly dispersed and soon, you stood there alone with Tony.

“Be nice. Say yes.” You told Venom.

“Who is this guy?” She asked out loud.

“I just said my name.” Tony said, slightly annoyed.

“He’s a really famous inventor. I’ll explain later. Just follow him please.” You begged. Venom gave Tony a once over and followed him to a limo.

“Yea, you’re gonna ride up top big guy.” Tony said, patting the roof of the car.

“Girl.” Venom growled. Tony looked surprised.

“My apologies ma’am.” He raised surprised eyebrows. You rode on top of his car all the way to his tower, wondering what he could possibly want with you.

The inside of his tower was huge. Tony lead you to a lab that was bigger than yours and Peters apartments combined.

“I’ve seen videos of you on YouTube. Seems like you and Spider-Man aren’t the best of friends.” Tony remarked as he pulled out an iPad.

“We will crush his bones and snort them like cocaine.” Venom growled. Tony was just as surprised to hear that as you were.

“Now that’s a visual.” Tony smirked. “I’ll have you know, Spider-Man is a friend of mine. He’s not your biggest fan either but from what I’ve seen, you’ve done this city some good since you’ve been here. How long has that been?”

“Two weeks.” Venom answered.

“I thought so. I’d never seen you before then. And since your arrival, petty crime has dropped significantly in Queens. Criminals are too scared of getting eaten to do anything. Don’t get me wrong, I love Spider-Man and I’ll kill you if you tell him that, but no one fears him. He gets the job done, but there’s always another job to do. With you, on the other hand, your mere presence is preventing crime before it even happens.” Tony smiled to himself, like he was just given a new toy. “You’re scary, is what I’m trying to say. But you’re a good guy. It’s rare. I want it to stay that way. I want you on my team.”

“Team?”

“We’re called the Avengers. We had a bit of a falling out but the name still stands.” Tony waved his hand. “We fight bad guys together. Really, really bad guys. I think you could us some good. Plus, you’ll be taken care of for life and we’ll only call you in for serious threats. But I need a few things from you first.”

“Like what?”

“Your story.” He pointed a finger at you. “How does a giant, anthropomorphic alien wind up in New York City?”

“It’s a long story.” Venom answered.

“We can trust this man, Venom.” You told her telepathically. “I’m gonna come out okay?” Venom hesitated and Tony looked impatient to know more.

“Are you sure?” She asked you. Tony looked confused.

“Am I sure?” He pointed to himself.

“Not you.” She said. Tony looked around for who else Venom could be talking to and found no one.

“I’m sure.” You decided. “This guy is one of the good guys. We can trust him. I promise. I’m coming out.”

You slowly transformed back into yourself in front of Tonys wide eyes. Venom stayed in her snake-like form and rested on your neck.

“Hello, Mr. Stark. My name is Y/N L/N.” You shyly introduced yourself. “This is Venom. We want to help.”

Tony’s face shifted from shocked to impressed as he looked you over.

“I gotta say, I did not except someone like you to be inside that scary monster.” Tony chuckled.

“We’re not a monster, Mr. Stark. We want to help people.” You reminded him.

“I can see that.” Tony nodded. “That’s why I’ve been developing you a suit.”

“When did you do that?” You wondered. “We just met.”

“Oh, I know. I’ve been designing it while you talked. I want you to have it incase you and Venom get separated. That way, you’ll be protected until you’re back together.” Tony explained as he showed you his ipad. Sure enough, it had a drawing of a suit on it.

“I’ll get started right away. I just need a little piece of Venom. If I make the suit using her skin, you’ll have the total protection you need.” You looked at Venom for consent, who nodded and extended a tendril towards Tony. He quickly snipped a piece off and put it in a container.

“When will the suit be ready? A few months?” You asked as Tony tapped the container. Tony stopped looking at the container and laughed.

“Y/N, I’m a genius inventor. Go get lunch. It’ll be ready when you’re done.” He said.

And he wasn’t kidding. An hour and a half later, Tony presented you with a suit. You ran my fingers over it slowly, not wanted to disturb a single thing. You looked at it in awe, completely speechless at what he had created.

“Go on, try it on.” He shrugged casually. You grinned from ear to ear before rushing to the bathroom to put it on. You came out soon enough with tears in you eyes.

“You like it?” Tony asked. You looked at your covered hands in amazement. The suit was jet black, like Venom was, and hugged your body like a second skin. There was a big white spider symbol on the front, the complete opposite of Spider-Mans small black one. You figured it was a nod to being called the anti Spider-Man and it was perfect.

“Well?” Tony was still waiting for an answer. You looked up at him just as a few tears fell down you cheeks.

“We didn’t celebrate my birthday growing up because it was the anniversary of my moms death. I used to be so upset every year.” You blurted. Tony looked like he didn’t know what to say and you couldn’t blame him. That was something deeply personal and you had only just met him.

“What I’m trying to say is, I get it now.” You explained. “All those missed birthdays were for a reason. I didn’t get gifts those days because I’m getting the ultimate gift right now. This is the most amazing thing I could’ve asked for. I cannot thank you enough Mr. Stark. I’ll never take it off.”

“You can’t take it off anyway.” Tony told you. “When you don’t want to wear it, it absorbs back into your skin like Venom does. And it’s equipped with Venoms essential abilities. It’s bullet proof, knife proof, taser proof, spork proof and so on. And you can still shoot your webby things. You just won’t have super strength, super speed, or that Venus flytrap mouth of yours.”

You tested it out and shot a web towards his desk. You grabbed a pen and caught it with ease, then looked at Tony for approval.

“That’s the best I could do. It’s no Iron Man suit but it’ll suffice.” Tony said casually. You couldn’t take it anymore and rushed towards him to hug him tightly.

“Thank you.” You said into his chest. Tony patted your back awkwardly and you let go.

“It’s nothing. You can thank me by not eating Spider-Man. I know he’s annoying but he doesn’t mean any harm. Now go forth and do good.” Tony requested.

You swung back to the apartment and landed on the roof. You turned back into yourself and made your way down the steps to your floor. After this mornings conversation with Peter and the incredible suit from Mr. Stark, you were having a great day. For the first time in years, you couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

[ravennm84]

Serafina

Part 2     Part 3

Based on @unmaskedagain post “Marinette’s Haunted Doll” this is my take on the story and the kind of things Serafina would have done to get even. There’ll be three parts, and will hopefully be posted through the week. Blood, gore, and character death ahead. You have been warned.

She was seven years old when her Grandma Gina’s sister, Ramona, passed away. Marinette couldn’t remember ever meeting her. Her dad said that she was a very private person and didn’t get out much. Since she had never married or had any children, all of her relatives were asked to come over to the house and divide the property before the rest was sold and equally divided. 

While her parents had been in the kitchen, looking over some family cook books, Marinette had wandered around the old house until she came to a small room. It was full of spiderwebs and old toys, which greatly interested her. She spent a long time looking through the boxes and shelves until she found a locked chest in the closet. Remembering the key she had seen in a dresser drawer, she retrieved it to see if it worked. It was hard to turn, but she heard the click and was able to open the lid. Inside was a box with an envelope laying on top of it. Curious she opened the envelope and read the note as best as she could.

“If I’m dead, Serafina killed me.”

Tilting her head in curiosity, Marinette set the letter aside and opened the box. Inside was an old looking porcelain doll. It was covered in spiderwebs, the dress was old and ripped, she was missing a shoe, and the hat looked like it was stained with red paint. 

“Are you Serafina?” She asked the doll before carefully lifting it out of the box. “I don’t think you’re bad, you just look lonely. But don’t worry, I’ll take care of you!” Giving the doll a gentle hug, the little girl got to her feet and left the room and letter behind. Finding her parents, she asked if it was okay to take the doll home so she could take care of her.

Tom remembered seeing that doll when he was a kid and had always thought it was creepy, but if his little girl saw the good in it, he would trust her. And since none of the other relatives wanted anything to do with the doll, it came home with them. 

Once home, the little girl raced up to her room with the doll and immediately got to work. She threw away the old dress, hat, and shoe before cleaning away all the dirt with a washcloth and carefully combing out the knotted hair. Then Marinette got to work on making Serafina a brand new outfit with new shoes and a hat. It took a few days, but she was really happy with what she came up with: a pink Victorian dress with rose and pearl accents, a wide brimmed hat with maroon feathers, and maroon slippers that tied with ribbons around the ankles.

Proud of what she had made, Marinette held the doll up high as she twirled around her room. She had been interested in fashion and clothes for months now, and making the pretty outfit for Serafina was a lot of fun. If anything, it proved to her that fashion design was what she wanted to do.

“I hope you like your new clothes, Serafina. You make the perfect little model, so I hope you don’t mind if I make more clothes for you later on. I promise to only make you clothes that will make you feel pretty.” Giving the doll a kiss, Marinette placed her next to her computer before skipping down stairs for dinner.

~oOo~

Serafina had not been expecting this when the young girl, Marinette, had opened her box. It had been decades since anyone had shown her any kindness. For so many years, she had been passed from person to person, shoved into boxes and hidden from sight or attempted to be sold off. Serafina had had no choice but to punish many of her past owners, and she had not been lax with their punishments. 

But she didn’t feel the need to do that with Marinette, this girl was different. She wasn’t afraid of her. She didn’t scorn her and hide her away where no one could see her. No, this girl was kind and made Serafina feel loved; something she hadn’t felt in nearly a hundred years. Staying with Marinette, she knew that she would be happy. So, no one needed to die here.

And she was.

The porcelain doll smiled quietly on Marinette’s desk as the years passed, and felt more for this girl than she could remember with anyone else. She felt beautiful whenever Marinette used her to experiment with a new outfit before she would make a full sized outfit for herself. She had fun when the girl would sing and dance around the room, sometimes even picking her up so she could dance with her. She felt entertained when she would play movies on her computer, one time watching a movie about a haunted doll like herself; they didn’t watch much before she turned it off, but Serafina thought it was funny. Scratching people and leaving notes wasn’t scary, she had done much scarier things than that.

As Marinette grew into a teen, Serafina felt proud as she grew from a shy girl into a fearless superhero. Her owner had a lot of love and light to give, so it made sense to her that she became Ladybug. She also felt scared for the girl, not wanting to lose her to Hawkmoth, but silently promised her that if she was ever hurt, the people who hurt her would pay her back in blood.

Serafina was also aware of the tiny god that gave Marinette her power, just as Tikki was aware of her. No doubt, the god could sense the darkness that dwelled in her porcelain body, but realized that she cared for the girl and would not harm her. So the little god wisely said nothing, she would hate it if Marinette suddenly feared her.

After all, the three of them were happy and at peace.

Until the day Marinette came storming into her room, complaining about a girl named Lila. From what she could hear, this girl was a liar and was using her friends. Knowing how much her human cared for other people, that didn’t sit well with how it would affect her. Then she didn’t hear anything about the girl for months. But when she was mentioned again, it quickly got worse from there. 

Serafina heard about the threats, the lies, almost being akumatized, her crush Adrien telling her to take the high road, all of it. She watched as one by one, her friends turned against her. Bullying her while accusing her of being a bully until only three of her classmates remained. She knew that the teacher and principal were useless and even accused Marinette of being a problem, especially after the expulsion. Serafina had nearly enacted her revenge that day, but held back when she was reinstated the next day.

Nathaniel, Rose, and Juleka were the only people left that believed her or even bothered to try and help in her class. There was also Kagami and Luka, Juleka’s brother. Serafina would admit, that boy was sharper than most. When he first saw her, his blue eyes studied her intently for a long moment until Marinette spoke up.

“That’s Serafina, she’s been passed down through my family for a long time. She was in really bad condition when I got her and took a lot of work to get her fixed up, but it was worth it. She was my first ever model and I’ve never felt lonely since she’s been around.”

Luka looked back over at the doll and gave her a smile. “I can tell, I’d bet no one gave her the proper love or attention until she came to you. And I think, if she could talk, she would say that you kept her from feeling lonely too, and all she wants is for you to be happy.”

Serafina liked that boy, a lot more than she had liked Adrien when he had come to play video games. The boy genuinely seemed to care for Marinette. And even though he could somehow sense that she was more than just a doll, he didn’t spill her secret. Yes, she approved of this one.

And then, less than a week after she returned to school, came the worst day. They were taking pictures at the school and Marinette had worked so hard on a new dress; it was pale purple cotton with teacup sleeves, a tulip skirt and pink lace at the hem. It was so sweet and looked like she was going to a spring tea party. Then half way through the day, she came into her room crying. Her makeup was smeared, there were bruises and scratch marks on her arms, another bruise on her cheek, her hair was a mess and covered in dark blue paint. The same paint that covered almost half of the dress. Tikki was doing her best to comfort the girl as she showered. Marinette was unable to save her dress and ended up throwing it away before she cried herself to sleep on her bed. 

Serafina was angry, the kind of anger she hadn’t felt since Ramona had attempted to burn her in the fireplace… and that hadn’t gone well for her. Tikki flew over to face her. “I know what you’re thinking and I can’t condone you falling into old habits and killing her entire class. Despite how much they’ve hurt her, it would still break her heart if they all suddenly died.”

The doll actually considered that for a moment before picturing some very specific people. Lila, the liar that was trying to take away/destroy the person she cared about. Alya, the best friend that betrayed her, acted like a hypocrite, and took joy in hurting her. Adrien, the boy that not only broke his promise to help her as a civilian, but continually harassed her as a pseudo-hero. And finally, Hawkmoth, the person that was constantly putting her in danger. Everyone else that had harmed her would be punished, paying back the harm they had done to Marinette in blood, but those four would pay with their lives.

Tikki shook her head. “As angry as I am with Adrien, you can’t kill him. Marinette still has feelings for him and if he dies, she might never get over him. I can’t stop you from punishing them, but please try not to kill them. You know that she has a big heart and it would hurt her to lose any of them, so please keep that in mind.”

Serafina would have argued, but the little god was right. Killing around Marinette would only upset her. So she would do her best to punish them without killing them… although, accidents do happen. 

~oOo~

It was easy enough to sneak herself into Marinette’s bag the next day of school. It was even easier to select her first victims. One of her classmates, Kim, stole her backpack and dumped out all of her stuff, including her. The boy laughed about Marinette bringing a doll to school as he ran up the stairs to keep it away from her. It took little effort to make the boy trip, in full view of everyone that had been watching, and fall backwards down the steps. 

Serafina had landed at the top landing with a perfect view of the boy’s tumble, and it was oh so satisfying. She could see his knee bent in the wrong direction, a bone in his arm protruding from the skin, and blood dripping from the cuts and open wounds. But the sound was even better, all the cracking and popping of bone before he began crying like a little girl, begging for his mom.  Ah, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed those sounds.

When the principal came out to see what was happening, she hid her presence and let the principal trip over her and fall as well. He even landed on Kim, causing more injuries to both of them. She held back a laugh as the grown man wailed and cried until the paramedics arrived. Loading the two into the ambulance while one of the teachers called the Board of Governors. A representative, M. Rupere, quickly came to take over the principal’s duties while he was gone, and was surprised when a bunch of students tried to blame Marinette for the incident.

“And how is it her fault?” He asked the students that surrounded him. “Did you see her push or trip M. Le Chien or M. Damocles down the stairs?

“Marinette brought in a doll and Kim was distracted by it when he was going up the stairs, that’s how he tripped and fell,” Lila told him with tears in her eyes. “Then M. Damocles tripped over the doll and fell down the stairs too. It’s just like how she pushed me down the stairs last week and I hurt my knee. I think she’s actually trying to hurt people.”

The man looked at Lila for a moment before looking to the top of the stairs, but there was no doll there. Then he looked back at Lila with a stern glare. “Young lady, if you had been pushed down the stairs last week, you would have been severely injured just like your friend or M. Damocles. And whether or not it was Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s doll that caused the incident or not, does not mean that she is at fault for the accident. To the principal’s office, right now. I think we should have a discussion as to why you are trying to blame another student for something she did not do.”

Totally shocked, the girl looked around to her followers for some support, but they were now looking at her with uncertainty. They had just seen two people fall down the stairs and receive severe injuries, so how was Lila walking around just fine without a scratch on her? Huffing in annoyance, Lila stomped her way to the office while the class stared after her, most of them noticing the lack of limp to her walk.

Serafina was pleased with how this was turning out, she had already punished two of the people that had betrayed Marinette and had begun sewing seeds of doubt with the liar. At the moment, she was hiding in the classroom, observing everyone so she could figure out the best way to punish them. She noticed Rose, Juleka, and Nathaniel sitting close to the girl and doing their best to comfort her. She also noticed Nino, a boy she had seen a couple of times over the years, casting looks back at Marinette. 

During the first break, the boy cautiously approached her, clutching his hat in his hands. “Hey dudette, listen… I, um, wanted to say I was sorry,” he said, having a hard time looking her in the eye. “After Kim fell, what that Governor dude said about Lila not being hurt, and the fact that I’ve known you forever. I felt so stupid. You would never push someone down the stairs or cheat or steal from someone like that. And I tried looking up Jagged’s discography to see if there was any mention of a song about Lila, and there was literally nothing. I tried telling Alya, but she didn’t want to listen and-”

Nino was interrupted by Marinette giving him a hug. Serafina smiled at that. The boy had thought for himself and admitted that he was wrong. He apologized and Marinette was willing to offer him forgiveness. She supposed that Nino could also be exempt from punishment, so long as he never betrayed the girl again.

Half way through the second lesson, Lila had returned to the class with two weeks worth of detention and had a meeting scheduled with herself, M. Rupere, and her mother at the end of the week. Serafina decided to let the girl’s empire fall before going in to completely destroy her.

During lunch, when all the students had left. Serafina got to work on punishing Mme. Bustier. She started by slamming the door shut, it made the woman jump and look around the room, but there was no one there. Then the giggling started, causing her to look around the room again. This time, she walked up the steps to see if anyone was hiding in the room, but she was completely alone. When she turned back to her desk, the papers she had been grading were torn to pieces. A bit panicked, Bustier tried to run out of the room, but the door was locked. As she struggled with the door, she heard the scraping of chalk and froze for a moment before looking at the board. Large words were scrawled in block letters: LIAR, ENABLER, MEAN, CRUEL, and the most frightening of all, YOU WILL PAY.

Bustier’s hands were shaking as she erased the words from the board, not understanding what was happening. Only taking a breath when the door opened and her students began to file in. Serafina quietly laughed at the teacher’s fear, she was another person that she would take her time in punishing. Payback for failing to help Marinette. For now, it was time to take out her biggest supporter. 

Again, it was much easier than it should have been to sneak herself in Alya’s backpack and go home with her. When the girl found her she sneered. “The klutz must have put you in my bag by mistake.” Then she smiled cruelly at her. “I think I’ll give you to Etta and Ella to play with before giving you back to Maribrat, maybe tell them that you need a makeover and give them some permanent markers too.”

Turning to take the doll out to her sisters, she stubbed her toe on her desk chair hard enough that she felt a crack and dropped back on her butt while hissing in pain. When she was finally able to think past the pain, she realized that she had dropped the doll and didn't see it on the floor. After wrapping her foot, she looked all over her room but couldn’t find it anywhere.

That night, things got… more than scary. Alya was absolutely terrified.

First, her computer turned on, on its own, and started printing off papers saying “YOU KNOW THE TRUTH”. She turned the computer off, only for it to turn back on after she’d climbed into bed and the browser pulled up past searches; specifically, the searches that proved that Lila had been lying. She had found that out after Lila had disappeared from school for months, but had kept to herself so she wouldn’t lose her credibility on her blog or have to admit to Marinette that she’d been right. Turning it off again, she’d decided to sleep on the couch when her phone suddenly let out a hiss and burst into flames.  

Letting out a shriek, Alya rushed to her door, and had just barely opened it when it slammed shut on her fingers, causing her to scream as she struggled to pull her hand free. She could hear her parents and Nora shouting on the other side of the door, trying to push it open, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head got fuzzy and she suddenly felt cold, she realized that she was going into shock. Her parents’ shouts became garbled background noise and Alya heard the sound of tiny feet running around the room. She tried reaching the light switch so she could see, but it was out of reach.

From the light outside her window, she could barely make out the movement of a small shadow, moving from one part of the room to another. Coming closer and closer to her with every sweep. Alya began tugging harder on the doorknob and her hand. She needed to get out. Something was in the room with her. She could almost feel the darkness creeping closer. It wanted to hurt her!

What happened next, Serafina couldn’t have planned better if she’d tried. Alya jerked back her trapped arm and the doorknob at the same time Nora threw her shoulder into the door as hard as she could. Sending the teenagers flying into her bedside table and her head hitting the corner with an audible *crack*. The doll smiled silently in the corner of the room as the paramedics were called and listened to her parents cries for their horrid daughter to wake up. They called time of death at 2:03am.

~oOo~

It was a bit more of a chore for Serafina to get back to the school, but it was still manageable as her mother had to inform the school of her daughter’s death and pick up her things. The woman had also noticed the information that had been brought up on Alya’s computer and thought that she had been up late chasing a lead. And as the lead had to do with the disturbing behavior of one of her daughter’s classmates, she thought it best to show the acting principal the information before taking her leave. 

Making her way back to the classroom, she saw that the news had spread already. Nino seemed to be hit the hardest, as it was his girlfriend, but he would get over it. Kim was still out of class, and likely would be for a few more days. Tikki saw the doll when she was peeking out of the purse and gave her a disapproving glare, but there was nothing she could do. And in Serafina’s defense, she had only intended on maiming the failed journalist, her death had been an “accident”.

When class let out for lunch, Serafina got back to work tormenting Mme. Bustier. Today, the door slammed and locked shut a few minutes after the last student left. The woman shrieked and was struggling to open the door when the giggling started again. Bustier started screaming for it to “go away” but the giggling continued. Turning back to the door, books began flying at her from all over the room, hitting her chest, back, arms since they were shielding her head.

Then the door opened to show a panicked looking M. Rupere. “I heard screaming, are you alright?” The red haired teacher looked extremely frazzled; her hair was a mess, eyes wide and dilated, and her hands were shaking.

“The books,” she said in a trembling voice. “There was giggling, the door wouldn’t open, and the books attacked me. And this was the second time!”

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he stared at the woman. “Did you see who was throwing the books at you?”

Bustier shook her head in a frantic manner. “There was no one, the books just started flying at me after the giggling.”

Giving her a slow nod, Rupere gently motioned her to step out of the room ahead of him. “How about you take the rest of the day to recover? Some rest will do you some good.” 

To his relief, Mme. Bustier agreed and collected her purse before leaving the school. Looking around the room, he was confused to see all the books in place on the shelves. Curious, he went to examine her desk and saw essay papers… covered in red ink with large “F’s” on every one of them. Reading the paper on top, all he saw were a few grammar mistakes, nothing that should have resulted in a failing grade. A bit unsettled, Rupere called the Board to schedule a psychological exam for the teacher. Serafina watched the man with satisfaction, at the rate she was going with that terrible teacher, she wouldn’t be around much longer.

Her next victims were Max and Alix during science class. She switched a couple of labels on the tubs on their desk before hiding in the room to enjoy the show. Half-way through class, Max poured a large amount of reactive chemical into the mix while it was warming over a burner, and the glass exploded. The two screamed and cursed in pain as Max tried wiping the liquid away from his face, only succeeding in getting more in his eyes. Alix tried wiping it away with a cloth, not noticing in time that the fabric was also soaked in the chemicals that now covered her entire face.

Serafina was impressed with how quickly Mme. Mendeleiev reacted to the incident. Doaning on gloves in an instant and leading the two students to the chemical wash station. Both students looked to have chemical burns on their faces, arms and necks. She could already see the burns covering a large amount of their exposed skin. While the class was distracted, Serafina switched the labels back so it would appear that the two had not been doing as instructed.

When school let out, the doll hid away in Mylene’s bag and ended up going on a date with the girl and Ivan. They commented on the bad luck their class seemed to be having and wondered out loud at what the cause might have been.

Mylene was hesitant to speak as the two ate their ice cream. “Do you think… maybe it’s karma coming back on our class?”

“Why do you think that?” Ivan asked her, seeming genuinely curious. Deciding that their conversation might lead to something more, Serafina waited and listened.

“It’s just… ever since Kim fell down the stairs, it’s got me thinking. Lila says that Marinette pushed her but the only injury she says she got was a bad knee, and she’s been walking around fine since then. And then she tried blaming Marinette for Kim and M. Damocles, when Kim shouldn’t have been running up the stairs and M. Damocles tripped at the top of the stairs when she was still down in the courtyard.”

“You’re right, now that I think about it. Lila lied to that new principal and she did it really easy.” Ivan nodded slowly, his brow creased as he pulled out his phone. “I wonder if she lied about anything else.” Mylene watched over his shoulder as he looked up the story about saving Jagged Stone’s kitten from an airplane. There was nothing, the only article that came up about a pet was his crocodile, Fang. The story said that he had hatched the reptile himself seventeen years earlier and any other pet wouldn’t be as rock’n’roll as Fang. “I don’t think Jagged ever had a cat, this article says that he’s only had Fang for longer than we’ve been around.”

Mylene pulled out her phone and called Rose, putting the call on speaker when she answered. 

“Hi Mylene, did you hear anything about Max and Alix? Are they going to be okay?” The girl asked as soon as she picked up.

“Ivan and I haven’t heard anything about them yet, but we have a question for you, Rose, and it’s something only you would be able to answer.”

There was a slight pause on the line. “Go ahead.”

“Do you still chat with Prince Ali?”

“Sure I do! We video chat every Saturday and I send him videos of our performances with Kitty Section. Why do you ask?”

“Ivan and I were wondering… Has he ever mentioned Lila to you?”

There was another pause, although they could hear a hushed conversation in the background. “So, you guys figured out the truth about Lila?” When they didn’t respond right away, Rose continued. “I found out a few weeks after Lila says she came back from Achu. I mentioned Lila to Ali and asked him about the charities they had been working on together, but he’d never heard of her. And Ali is only working on charities involving children, nothing with the environment. When Juleka and I tried asking Lila about it, she got really mean and threatened us if we told anyone. I would have been akumatized if Marinette hadn’t been there to calm me down.”

Ivan and Mylene were horrified, not only had Lila been lying to them, but she had threatened Rose, Juleka, and probably Marinette too. “What should we do?”

“First, you should apologize to Marinette for how you’ve been treating her and let her know that you know the truth.” They heard Juleka over the phone. “Lila has been more terrible to her than anyone else and she keeps getting in Lila’s way to protect us and Nathaniel since we know the truth about her.”

“Who all knows?” Ivan asked, feeling a bit sick to his stomach. Sure, he and Mylene hadn’t really hurt her or done anything, but they hadn’t stood up for her either and they were supposed to be her friend.

“Us, Luka, Kagami, Nathaniel figured it out when she said she could introduce him to Stan Lee, Nino figured it out yesterday, and Adrien’s apparently known from the start but didn’t say anything because he doesn’t think her lies are hurting anybody.”

Both of them could hear the acid in Juleka’s voice when she mentioned Adrien, and they couldn’t argue with her. They knew he had led a sheltered life, but how could he claim that ‘lies don’t hurt anybody’ after sitting back and watching Lila and her friends torment and bully Marinette?

Mylene hadn’t even realized that she had asked that question out loud until Rose answered them. “He told us that it was Marinette’s own fault for antagonizing Lila, and ‘If she just took the high road like I told her, then Lila would leave her alone’. It took everything I had not to slap him.”

Coming from Rose, that really was saying something.

Serafina was then taken on a shopping trip to an arts supplies store, a card shop, and a stop at an ATM before going to Marinette’s family’s bakery. She smiled quietly and with great respect to the couple as they apologized to her girl, gave her cards, an entire bolt of soft purple cotton the same color that her ruined dress had been, a new sketchbook, and money to pay her back for some of the things that Marinette had given them over the past year. They even asked her to provide them with proper receipts, and admitted that they knew the amount they had given her wasn’t enough to cover everything. But they promised to pay her back before asking for anything else, as well as pay in advance for any future items or baked goods. 

The little doll would have cried right along with Marinette if she could. These two had proven themselves to her and would avoid punishment, just as Nino had.

Taglist (it’s a long one):

@themagicmistic @andromeda612 @ramos123 @t1dwarrior-of-earth @justanotherweirdo277 @irisfox @thestrangestofthemall @plz-excuse-my-inner-ravenclaw @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @the-fandom-girl @wisecolorthing @mewwitch @luxurioushellgirl97 @seraphichana @fantasiame @whydoexamsexist @wispyrainbow @legodetectivemalsblog @kindasoundslikealien @shadowangelreborn @kazedancer @unmaskedagain @7-sage-7 @irontimetravelflower @ghostmaster83 @izang @ulmban @plushbookworm @corabeth11 @darkened-flame @caffeinetheory @iamablinkmarvelarmy @raiderofthelostbooks @cheshire5210 @chocolateherringtacofan @city-of-all-tunas @aadnrsstar @kitten12113 @interobanginyourmom @pandacatxd @nerd-nowandforever @jesussavedevenme @zoiechance @the-smallest-kittenz @wonderbat91939 @maskedpainter @tazer6787 @that-girl-sakea @seesea22 @with-forward-motion @ola-is-dead @thecrazyfantrollshasmoved @bayball @2confused-2doanything @queen-in-a-flower-crown @sabrina1414 @ceres-zephyr @if-you-give-a-chat-a-cookie @zalladane @tails-and-scales @rumbelle18 @sam-spectra @collegefae @pale-lady-dreamer @animegirlweeb @evaraux @consumeconstantly @iz-bell-saiah @puspa-san @wishing-to-be-a-fictional-chara @sassakitty @miraculous-ninja @fandom-trapped-03 @idontfuking @sillyfishrubberducky @anonymousreviewer-t @i-am-fallen-angel @zotinha456 @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @chocolatecatstheron @crypticsabbat @startouchedqueen1318 @para-dox-normal @marinettepotterandplagg @incredulous-reader @professionalfangirl1738 @fangirlnerd001 @redscarlet95 @sixtyeightdays @iamtotalfandomtrash @tazanna-blythe @animehime94 @mysticsoulgirl @miraculouspenta @local-witch-of-mn @roseinbloom02 @senpaiweird @iggy-of-fans @tropestropestropes @sleep-deprived-aroace @comteqfr @neromerp13 @prudencerika @galaxylightmoon @c-s-stars

[imagine-that-100]

Stop It

Description: When bad habits come back, it leaves you with worries and feeling self-aware. But when your boyfriend spots this, he just has to prove you wrong.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: This was requested by an Anon. Really hope this was okay, I tried my best with it. Hope everyone else enjoys and I’d love to know what you think! Thank you for reading x

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As a kid all you heard when it came to you and your little habit was, “Stop it.”

Picking and biting at your lips was something that had haunted you for as long as you could remember. Cracked and broken skin on your lips were almost a constant and it haunted you still even now.

After you’d been ill with the flu or a cold, or something your lips liked to taunt you. Even just after being out in the cold for too long without applying some lip balm.

It was a fucking pain.

And because they used to be in such a bad condition, you just assumed that once the dead skin was off you'd be fine. So picking at them and biting them seemed like it was helping.

Oh how wrong you were.

So that was when you got constant ‘Stop it’s from your parents and when you caught yourself doing it you said a silent ‘stop it’ to yourself.

And the past few days you’d fallen back into that bad habit because you’d just got over a cold. So when you were at work today, stressing out over a client, you caught yourself staring at your laptop with your elbow rested on your desk and your fingers on your lips, picking at a little piece of dry skin you’d found.

Stop it.

Then you caught yourself biting them later when you were trying to actually make the custom design for your client. Another ‘stop it’ filled your mind.

Then again on the phone to another client who was being rude.

Stop it.

And again, when you were driving back home to your boyfriend who’d just flew back in from a series of shows he’d done.

STOP IT!

All you wanted to do was be able to kiss your boyfriend, but no way would he want to go anywhere near you if your lips split. Thankfully the first day or two when Matty was back home your lips held out.

You tried your best to control your habit and with Matty distracting you from work stresses it became a little easier. But when you were at work and he obviously wasn’t around you fell back into old habits.

And after a particularly stressful day at work, you did the worst.

You accidently split your lip.

Never had you not wanted to go home to Matty more. He was affectionate with you in the best of ways and he almost always wanted a kiss and a cuddle when it was just the two of you alone together.

But you didn’t want to kiss him with your lips in the state they were. Despite trying every lip balm, lip scrub, and moisturizer, nothing had helped over the past few days they still fucking split.

You hated it, and you hated that it made you anxious for Matty to see you like that. Thankfully, he’d never seen you like this before but something in you made you think he’d want nothing to do with you.

Maybe it was your old anxiety creeping back in. Or maybe it was just the fear of rejection.

Whatever the reason, it made you want to hide yourself from the person you shouldn’t be hiding yourself from.

“Hey.” You called when you got home, knowing Matty was around somewhere.

“Hey.” Matty calls back from the lounge, “How was work?”

When you walk in and see your boyfriend with his long mop of curls, you smile saying, “Stressful.”

“Bastards being picky again?” Matty grins when his brown eyes connect with your Y/E/C ones.

You chuckle remembering you’d complained about your clients to him on multiple occasions. You loved your job but god you met some pretentious people along the way.

“Not more so than you when it comes to buying your vintage clothes.” You tease him, throwing your coat down on the settee before leaning over him and kissing the top of his head.

Matty playfully scoffs, “I’m not being picky, I just have taste.”

“Sure, that's what we'll call it.” You giggle as Matty pulls you down onto his lap so he could give you a hug.

His arms wrap around you and he buries his head into your neck. You smile, feeling him kiss your skin a few times but you just bury your nose into his soft curls that smell like his expensive almond conditioner, as you ask, “How’s your day been?”

“Boring without you here.” Matty tells you and even though he’s just being kind, it makes you smile.

As you ask, “How are the boys?” Matty’s lips slowly trace their way up your neck and to your jaw.

Your anxiety set in a bit then, knowing exactly where they were headed.

“They’re alright, I suppose.” Matty tells you, he kisses just under your ear before he says, “Wanna see you apparently.”

“Well that's no shock, they do love me more than they love you.” You joke.

Matty chuckles a little at that and kisses across your cheek as he whines, “You’re mineee.”

You giggle at that and throw your head laughing back just before his lips reach the corner of yours.

Matty chuckles too hearing your laugh and he kisses under your jaw whilst it’s exposed to him. Your laugh was so adorable, and he’d never tire of hearing it.

“Do you want a brew?” You ask the love of your life as you get up out of his lap.

Matty smiles, looking up at your gorgeous face, “I’d love a coffee please.”

You nod and head to the kitchen feeling a little relief that you’d got out of that one. You didn’t want him to be repulsed by the thought of kissing you, so you’d rather avoid kissing him instead.

But that turned out to be what gave you away.

That night you went to George’s for a Chinese with them all. Adam brought Carly with him so you ended up talking to her for most of the night to try and avoid PDA.

You just received passing kisses on the head or on the cheek that night, even when you crawled into bed later you just tucked your head under Matty’s chin and let sleep take over you quickly.

The following day you avoided them too and you thought you were being subtle about it. Sometimes you playfully dodged his kiss and kissed his cheek instead, and other times you made him kiss your cheek when he went in for one, because you’d put lip balm on.

But the day after you were still doing the same despite not being in a playful mood or having anything on your lips.

You were standing in your kitchen with Matty’s arms around your waist making the both of you an omelette for lunch. You’d told Matty to just take a seat at your kitchen table as he kept trying to distract you with hugs from behind and trying to lean over you and kiss your face.

You laugh but instruct him once more to sit himself down. After another minute of him pestering you, you nudge him with your hip to move himself over to the table and he finally lets go of you and lets you finish your delicious creation.

He says a thank you when you place it down in front of him and he was going to give you a kiss until you practically whipped yourself back to the kitchen counter, just ruffling his hair

“Hey.” Matty says to make you look over at him, and when you do, he asks, “What’s up?”

You put your own lunch on your plate and when you sit down on the seat at the end of the table, you say, “Nothing, why?”

Matty points out, “You've not let me kiss you for the past two days.”

You go quiet then feeling bad because you haven’t kissed your boyfriend. And for the fact you’d not been honest about it and its leading him to ask questions like, “Have I done something?

“No Matty.” You tell him softly, never wanting to make him think that.

You look into his gorgeous brown eyes and you can see he’s just curious about your behaviour. Usually you’re all over each other, but you have been pretty distant and with him only being back for 3 weeks it hurt your heart not to have him the way you wanted him.

But you’d rather not have the anxiousness that came with you being overly self-aware of your lips against his.

“Then what’s up?” Matty asks, watching as you avoid eye contact and just concentrate on your food.

You glance at his plate and see it’s going untouched, so you gesture to it saying, “I promise I’m fine, just eat before it goes cold.”

“Don’t tell me you've gone off me?” Matty says after a few seconds.  

And when you just take a deep breath to try and think over another excuse, Matty asks, “Oh my god, have you?”

“No.” Your eyes snap up to his in panic. You didn’t want him to think that at all, so you repeat, “No, never.”

“Then what's up?” Matty chuckles and then noticing your look of panic he makes light of it asking, “I’m feeling very affection starved.”

You close your eyes, sighing, “Matty.”

“Come on, love.” Your boyfriend chuckles before taking your hand and asking again, “What’s up?”

“Is it not obvious?” You ask, feeling like your lips were really disgusting right now.

Matty shakes his head, “I’ve got no clue why you won't let me kiss you.”

After a deep breath you tell him the truth, “My lips are a fucking state.”

“Your lips are fine.” Matty frowns a little confused, looking down at them. “What do you mean?”

You say in a vulnerable voice, hating having to point it out, “Matty it’s split.”

Matty glances back down at then again and he reaches up to cup your jaw. You resist the urge to pull away from his reach because after all he was the person who knew you best.

His thumb comes up and runs across your bottom lip then and he shakes his head, “It's tiny.”

You shake your head a little so his thumb drops. He was being polite; it wasn’t tiny at all. The only highlight was that it was starting to heal.

You follow up with, “I hate it, they feel all dry and disgusting.”

“You’re thinking they are a lot worse than they are Darling. I don’t hate them at all.” Matty says, scooting his chair a little closer so he could easily trace your lips again.

He softly asks, a little more sympathetic, “Did you really not want to kiss me because of that?”

“It’s vile.” You shake your head.

“It’s not.” Matty says and then adds, “You’re my girlfriend, I wanna kiss you all the time.”

You put your hand over your lips and shake your head.

“Stop that.” Matty bats your hand away but as soon as he retreats you cover your lips again.

“Stop it.” Matty insists, pulling your hand down and keeping hold of it, “You don’t have to do that.”

You try to pull your hand away but when he doesn’t let you, so you just bring your other one up when you say, “I do because you keep looking.”

“Only because I want to kiss them.” Matty grins at you.

You shake your head and look back down. Noticing your plates are still full, you try to change the subject by saying, “The food’s going cold.”

“It’ll get colder if you don't give me a kiss.” Matty grins.

You sigh then, still feeling conscious and you’re about to protest but your boyfriend doesn’t let you retreat again.

“Y/N.” Matty says before you can protest, “I want to kiss you all the time.”

He then makes a pouty face at you then and puckers his lips making kissing noises at you. He gets you giggling within seconds and your heart swells with how lovely he’s being towards you.

Matty can obviously tell it's something you’re not comfortable about. But he didn’t care in the slightest.

He loved you with the whole of his heart and he’d do everything he could to make you love yourself as much as he loved you. And if that meant kissing your pretty lips every second of every day, he would do.

You chuckle at your boyfriend puckering his lips at you and you ask, “Even wanna kiss me when my lips are mingin’?”

“They’re not mingin’.” Matty assures you before he just abandons his chair and just kneels on the ground in front of you.

He still has a hold of your hand and he gives it a little squeeze before he assures you, “I love you Y/N, course I wanna kiss you.”

You smile at him then and when he actually goes go for the kiss Matty is really happy you don’t stop him. Your kiss was just as sweet as it usually was and Matty felt the excitement bubble away inside him like it always had at the mere thought of kissing you.

But Matty just kept his one sweet, making sure you were calm and relaxed. And he was pleased to know you were.

When Matty pulls away, he smiles, “See...? Wasn't so bad, was it?

Your cheeks go a little hot then, seeing how much adoration was in his eyes. You don't hesitate to tell him, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Matty grins, before cheekily asking, “Can you have another one?”

You giggle at his one-track mind, but you decide to make him wait. You pass him your plate and say, “After you warm up my eggs.”

Your boyfriend takes it with a laugh and grabs his own plate. But he steals one more kiss from his gorgeous girlfriend on the way back to the stove.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You can add yourself to my Taglists in my Masterlist x

[chyanxrene]

One More Drink

♡ Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Y/N

♡ Summary: Y/N and Draco have a one night stand, however things are not as straightforward as they seem (I’m not sure how to describe this one)

♡ Warnings: Pure smut, female receiving (anything else let me know)

Working as a healer was Y/N's dream ever since she studied at Hogwarts. The countless hours she put into her studying did not go unnoticed. So when she left Hogwarts two years ago she was immediately offered a high position in St. Mungo's.

Her efforts in the war were appreciated by many. She wasn't fully trained, nor did she know what she was doing when she was presented with injured wizards. But she tried, her ambition, the way she tried her hardest to not let a single soul die beneath her touch was admired by almost everyone.

So for the past two years, every Friday at 8PM. After she had finished her evening shift, she headed down to her local bar. Although she was a strong individual, her mind was haunted by the blood, the injuries, and it only followed her when she went to work.

So Friday was her day, her day to drown out the horrific images, her day to let loose, because she deserved it.

She liked being alone, she enjoyed her own company. The war changed everyone, she barely spoke with her friends from Hogwarts. They all lived their own lives, the thought of them only forced her to remember everything that had happened.

So here she was, alone in her local bar. It was her second drink of the night, the alcohol yet to mix into her blood. This week had been long, gruesome and tiring, she wanted something stronger. Something to provide her with temporary amnesia.

She flicked her hand up, signalling the bartender over. This bartender was new, he was young, slightly shaky. She was sure he was overwhelmed with the amount of people in the bar.

He sent her a weak smile, sweat dripping off the tip of his nose. He rubbed it off with his forearm and immediately had apologetic eyes, Y/N couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"I'll have another Martini please" Y/N smiled, she bit the olive off the toothpick and shoved it back into her glass.

"Right away" the bartender rushed, he was sloppy with his work. Loud men, flirty women all called him in unison, wanting his attention. Craving their own taste of poison.

Y/N looked around from her bar stool, the place was rammed. There were no empty chairs, no spare tables, bodies were everywhere. This only heated up the small bar, Y/N pushed her jacket down, settling it on her lap as she waited for her drink.

She fiddled with her fingers, she would enjoy some company right now. Perhaps she should start bringing her friends, or find a lover.

She shook her head at the thoughts, men were too complicated. She didn't have time for them, besides, she was picky when it came to the opposite sex.

After a few moments her drink arrived in front of her, except there were no olives. She thought to complain, but the poor boy was already under pressure. She didn't want to add any more, she swung the drink back effortlessly.

This was the drink that done it, the gin burned her throat, she could feel the alcohol swim through her veins. Her stomach fluttered, even though her jacket had come off, she had heated up again.

Y/N went to request another drink, but something else had been placed in front of her.

Brown liquid gold in a shot glass— fire whiskey. She smirked to herself, every Friday an unknown admirer purchased her a single shot of fire whiskey.

Was she really hot, or did she just want to take off her jacket so her admirer could see her bare skin. Y/N didn't know, some parts of her wanted to find out who it was. Other parts of her wanted to keep on playing their little game.

It must've been someone from Hogwarts— in the Muggle world they done shots of Vodka, tequila even rum— never fire whiskey.

She held the drink to her lips, pressing them on the rim. Her nostrils burned, smelling the strong smell of the alcohol. She counted to three before swallowing the contents of the shot glass.

Her mind was full of memories in Hogwarts, the times that her and her friends would sneak fire whiskey into a party. Drinking after exams, before quidditch games and after, any excuse for a good time— fire whiskey was there.

Her heart warmed, that's it, she had to know who was sending her these drinks, every Friday for two years straight— she had to know.

Whoever it was, they were smart. Friday was always the busiest day, so no matter how hard Y/N tried to look for the unknown person, her mind was always cloudy by that time. So she would give up, plus the bartender would never tell her who it was.

A light bulb went off in her head, she then realised— this was a new bartender.

She called him over, he ran to her. His face was red, he looked like he was on the verge of passing out.

"Who sent this drink?" She asked, her voice was laced with excitement.

"I— I don't know."

"You must know— he obviously told you— what did he look like?"

"Oh— yes right— white hair— he's tall, wearing all black."

"Thank you" Y/N smiled, she rose from her chair. She was going to find him, whoever it was.

She checked, table after table, there was no sign of this white haired man. She almost gave up, wanting to return to her seat. She internally screamed seeing it was now occupied.

She spun around ready to head to the exit, her face then collided with a hard chest.

"Looking for me?" The male spoke.

Y/N frowned, she pushed back, raising her head. She had seen him before, she knew who he was but she couldn't pin point where she knew him from.

God he was beautiful, his face was carved sharply, his eyes a stormy grey colour. He was powerful, just by his stance, his skin was clean, like porcelain, there wasn't a scratch on it.

"I— uh-"

"Would you like to sit down? You're welcome to sit on my table" he spoke again, his voice was deep, it almost went straight to Y/N's core.

She couldn't speak, she was in awe at this beautiful man.

"If I'd had known that you were going to react like this then I would've made myself known sooner" he chuckled.

His hand wrapped around her wrist, his cold fingertips snapped her out of the trance. Before she knew what he was doing, he dragged her back to his table. It was in the corner, dim lit, her eyes went to where the bar was, she realised he had a clear view of her.

He was watching her all this time.

"I— do I know you?" She asked, her eyes met his, she was intimidated by his strong gaze.

"I don't know, do you?" He responded, picking up his drink and raising it to his lips.

"You look familiar" Y/N mumbled, watching him, his pink tongue fell out and licked the rim of his glass before he sipped on the contents.

Her breath hitched in her throat, he knew that, he had been watching her for so long.

He set his glass down and turned his body so that their knees were touching, "we went to school together."

"Hogwarts?" Y/N frowned.

He hummed, conjuring more fire whiskey from the tip of his wand. Y/N looked around to see if anyone had watched but luckily no one did.

Then she realised who he was, the annoying, pompous asshole that got underneath everyone's skin.

"Malfoy" she grimaced.

"Huh, you were eye fucking me less than two minutes ago— now you're saying my name like you hate me Y/L/N."

"Piss off— I was not— you've just changed— that's all."

"In a good way I'm guessing" he smirked, his fingers tapped the table below him. She couldn't help but stare at his long fingers, decorated with silver expensive rings.

She let out a breath, the fire whiskey had clearly taken over her body and her mind, "very good."

Draco was taken aback by her response, she had always been bold. But after the war, everyone had lost their spark, it seemed she hadn't which only enticed him more.

"So, Malfoy, you've been watching me all this time, buying me drinks— what's the catch?" She laughed, she picked up his drink and sipped a little of it. Some escaped from the corner of her mouth, due to her rushing to swallow the drink.

His finger reached out, collecting the fallen liquid. He brushed it against her bottom lip, letting it sit there before he pushed his wet finger into his own mouth.

Y/N sat there with her mouth open, her thoughts ran wild. Imagining what Malfoy would be like in bed, he was an arrogant bastard, so he must have something to show for it.

She could faintly remember him in school, however all her memories of him were negative. Him bullying the golden Trio, treating girls like toys. She had despised him, she couldn't remember him in the war— or if he was even there.

"There's no catch" he said, bringing her back to reality.

"I find that hard to believe, there's always a catch with you Malfoy."

"Call me Draco— darling."

Y/N hadn't noticed that her thong had became wet, only when she shifted from leg to leg. She felt the cool breeze travel up her skirt and right onto her underwear. She unknowingly had a blush painted across her face, which Draco had noticed.

"Everything alright?" He whispered, he leaned closer to her, his strong scent overpowering her nostrils. His hand found her knee and rested it there, Y/N secretly hoped he would move his hand further.

"I— I'm fine, it's just hot in here" Y/N nervously laughed.

"You seem flustered Y/N" Draco said in a hushed tone, he leaned even closer to her, his breath now hot against her ear.

"I'm— I'm just hot Draco" she lifted his glass to her mouth, drinking slowly, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Mmm, are you wet too?"

Y/N choked on the drink, liquid flew out of her mouth landing on the table. She didn't expect him to come out with that, how did he know, was it that obvious?

Draco picked up a piece of tissue and dried the table, "I'll take that as a yes."

She was embarrassed, more than embarrassed. She wanted to run out of the bar and never return, but she couldn't. His pull was strong, that's what kept her there.

"No— I'm not."

"I think you're lying darling."

His hand had moved to her thigh, massaging it with his hand. Her skin quickly covered in goosebumps, he left a light kiss on her cheek and pried her thighs open as they were firmly shut from her crossing them.

Draco looked in her eyes to see if there was any sign of protest, but there wasn't, her eyes were full of lust and want.

"I think," Draco paused, his index finger drew circles up her inner thigh, edging closer and closer to her wet thong.

His mouth was brushing her ear, "you should let me, clean this little mess you made."

His finger dragged along the centre of her thong, an almost inaudible groan escaped past his pink lips. Y/N's hand grabbed onto his forearm, holding it in place.

She whimpered feeling his finger slip underneath her thong, he ran his finger up and down, collecting her arousal on his finger.

He stilled and looked at her, Draco had never seen a prettier sight. He was going to enjoy this thoroughly, "would you let me do that?"

Y/N had forgotten that he had asked a question, all she could focus on was his slender finger touching her ever so carefully.

"Hmm? Answer me love, would you like that— would you like me to clean this up?" He whispered, circling her clit slowly, his eyes stared into the side of her face. Waiting for an answer, he knew she was in a trance.

He removed his finger, hoping that would force her to answer his question.

Y/N's mouth ran dry, she couldn't remember the last time she had been touched like this. She wanted to say in Hogwarts but everything before the war was fuzzy to her.

"Yes" she managed to whisper.

He nodded, he downed his drink and leaned back into the chair. Y/N frowned, looking at him, she thought he was going to move out of the way so she could exit the booth.

But he just sat there, he ran his tongue over his teeth, smirking slightly whilst he watched her.

"Ladies first."

"But you're in the way."

"I'm a gentleman, ladies first Y/N" he said, his bottom lip was caught in between his teeth as he watched her scramble and collect her belongings.

She stood up, praying silently to herself, do not fall over him. He widened his legs and allowed her to step over one of them until she was standing in between his legs.

She almost fell but he caught her by her waist, she looked down at him. His eyes were already on hers, they are dark, he looked at her like she was his prey.

"Careful love," his eyes wandered down her body until they reached her ass. His tongue ran across his lips, moistening them before he moved his hand off her waist.

Y/N managed to climb out of the booth safely, without falling on him again. She threw her coat on and waited for him to stand up, he immediately towered over her.

His hand fell to the small of her back and guided her through the sweaty bodies. He didn't need to push anyone out of the way, his presence alone made people stand to the side.

Once they had reached the empty street he held out his hand for her to take. She knew where this was going, she always hated apparating but it was the fastest way to transport to places.

She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the wave of nausea run through her system. Apparating and alcohol were not a good pairing, she knew not to make this mistake again.

Finally back on two feet she waited for her body to regain its normal composure. She looked at her surroundings, a simple flat. It was modern but with dark accents to it, typical for a Slytherin she thought to herself.

The kitchen was attached to the lounge, a nice open space. Y/N wondered if he lived by himself. It was a large flat, the floor to floor windows overlooked the streets of central London. I guess he still had money even after the war.

Y/N placed her bag on the floor and stood by the window, watching the river Thames in the background, then glancing to the busy streets, full of life.

Draco stood next to her, watching everywhere she was watching.

"It's nice isn't it?" Draco said, Y/N hummed and leaned against the window. She was no longer watching the view, she was watching him. The way his eyes glowed against the moons natural light.

She couldn't help the butterflies in her stomach, his hand cupped the side of her face. His thumb brushed up and down her cheek before he leaned in and kissed her.

She welcomed his mouth with hers, instantly deepening the kiss with her tongue. Draco let out a groan, he waited two years to get her like this. He didn't know how much longer he could wait.

Y/N's arms wrapped around his neck pulling him closer to her. He bent down picking her up by the back of her thighs, their mouths never disconnected.

Each second the kiss became more desperate, full of hunger and need. Both of them needed this, for two complete different reasons, but neither of them knew what the others were.

Draco managed to set Y/N on top of the island in his kitchen. His hands ran up her sides, brushing past her breasts and then back down to her thighs.

Y/N tried to get his shirt off, only managing to tear the top three buttons before giving up. She instead put her fingers through his hair, tugging on his neatly gelled hair, making it a now disheveled.

She swallowed his groans in her mouth, allowing him to push her legs open, which he settled between. He removed his mouth, Y/N was catching her breath, gasping heavily.

Draco made his way down her collar bone, sucking and biting at the spot which he knew would drive her crazy.

She whimpered, feeling him lick her pulse and then bite on it gently.

"God, Draco."

He let out a laugh and pulled her legs to the edge of the table so she was sitting half on it. She fell backwards waiting for him to touch her.

Her skirt had been bunched up around her waist, Draco pushed her thighs apart, he could see everything now. Her wet underwear, so flimsy, he was almost angered seeing her wear something so skimpy to a bar full of perverted men.

But he pushed his thoughts aside and kissed along her inner thighs. Wet kisses scorched her sensitive skin, she could still feel each kiss even when his mouth had left the area.

She was in a state of bliss, her thoughts and senses were overpowered by pleasure.

"Draco" she moaned, feeling him lick a long stripe up her pussy. The friction between his wet tongue and lace underwear caused her to jolt forward.

His finger curled underneath her underwear, he pulled it down her legs, throwing it on the ground carelessly.

His face was now centimetres away from her aching pussy. If she moved closer his mouth would be touching it, but she waited for him.

He sucked in a breath, the heat from his mouth fanned against her bare pussy. Sending chills down her spine which was already cold against the marble slab beneath her.

Draco could've said a thousand words, but he bit his tongue. He didn't want to make her feel weird or uncomfortable, so he kept his thoughts to himself.

His middle finger entered her without warning, Draco shut his eyes feeling her pussy clench the single finger. He let out a breath, eyes peering up at the beautiful witch in front of him.

She was still, frozen, only her chest heaving up and down. Draco was unsure if she was okay, but the way her pussy tightened around his finger showed that she was still with him.

He pushed it in and out a few times, testing her tightness, he wanted nothing more than to replace his finger with his cock, but he would wait.

"More" Y/N managed to squeak out.

He abided with her command and added a second finger. He would do anything she asked him to do at this moment.

He used a scissoring motion, stretching her, preparing her for his cock, which he knew he had to do. After watching her countless nights, he was fully aware that she hadn't had anyone since Hogwarts.

He wanted her to be ready for when she took his cock, he didn't want her to feel an ounce of pain. Only pleasure, and he wanted to be the one that gave it to her. The only one, to give it to her.

Y/N couldn't breathe, she hadn't felt like this in a long time. She couldn't even make herself cum, she was close, the teasing from the bar and now this.

"You look so beautiful Y/N— do you like that? Do you like feeling my fingers stretch your— tight little pussy?" Draco groaned, she didn't respond, only clenching her pussy again as a somewhat answer.

"God— I can't wait to feel you around my cock."

Draco latched his mouth onto her clit, sucking on it gently. His fingers were fucking her quickly, never losing there pace even when she gripped his hair tightly.

The wet noises made Draco hard. It was painful, he didn't know how to contain himself anymore. He wanted to be inside her now, he needed it— more than anything.

But her pleasure came first, always.

She was close, her low screams partnered with her squirming beneath his touch made Draco fully aware. He moved his fingers and replaced it with his tongue— finally tasting her.

He lapped up her arousal, savouring the taste. His fingers rubbed harshly on her clit as he prodded his tongue in and out of her.

She suddenly stilled and screamed his name, followed by multiple curse words. The orgasm washed over her, but Draco never stopped. He continued licking her until she was clean before he raised his head again.

His mouth shiny, covered in her cum. He licked his lips, humming at her taste.

Y/N's head fell back onto the table, she let out a shaky breath and sat up. She watched as he palmed his cock through his neatly ironed trousers.

His movements were slow, Y/N couldn't help but become aroused again. He was teasing her, he undone his belt slowly and unzipped his trousers. All while maintaining eye contact with her.

The room was filled with heavy breaths, Y/N couldn't wait to see what he had to offer. Never in a million years did she think she would fuck Draco Malfoy. But here she was, silently begging for him to do so.

His trousers were pushed down first, leaving him in his black boxers. They hardly disguised his erection, the tip was peaking out of the top, a wet patch surrounded it.

"You want this?" He smirked, rubbing his cock through his boxers. He squeezed the base and ran his hand up to the tip, groaning at his own pleasure. Y/N felt jealous, utterly jealous.

Y/N nodded quickly, licking her lips. He laughed, pushing his boxers down to his ankles.

A gasp tumbled out of her mouth, his cock stood up, reaching his belly button. It was hard, it looked like it was causing him pain.

How was she going to take that when she hadn't had sex in so long. Thank God she was a healer, she laughed to herself.

He pulled her to the edge again, "I'll stop if it hurts."

Y/N rolled her eyes, "just fuck me Draco."

He shook his head, lining his tip up with her entrance. He didn't enter just yet, he ran the tip up and down her pussy, nudging her clit with it a few times.

She chewed on her bottom lip, watching him closely. He just stared between them, sweat was trickling down his temple. He gulped heavily and closed his eyes.

"Draco?"

"Wait" he mumbled, he pushed inside of her, a strained groan coming from his throat.

Her pussy hugged him so tightly. He didn't know if he could ever pull out, or if he even wanted to.

Draco's hand went to her throat and held onto it tightly. He composed himself before pulling out and thrusting into her again, he tested a few different paces before deciding which one to go with.

He knew he wouldn't last long, so he went with short deep thrusts. That's what Y/N received, short, deep, delicious thrusts.

His hand was tight around her throat, making it hard for her to even breath— let alone moan. Draco's eyes were fixated on where the two were connecting.

"Fuck— your cunt is so— fucking tight" he grunted. His hips moved faster, and his hand only clasped tighter.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. The coil in Y/N's stomach was about to snap again. When she closed her eyes she saw stars, her head was fuzzy, she felt disoriented.

"You're taking me so well— just like you us-"

He was cut off by a loud moan, Draco moved his hand from her neck, his thumb circled her clit leisurely. He watched her come undone for him, and that's all he ever wanted.

Y/N choked as her second orgasm bulldozed through her body. The way her pussy clenched around Draco forced him to come to an early orgasm.

It hit him unexpectedly, that had never happened before.

The two tried to regain their breaths. Draco was still inside her, currently too unstable to pull out. Y/N was desperately trying to get her normal vision back.

After a few minutes they were able to find a sense of normality. Draco raised his head, watching as Y/N gave him a lazy smile— no— a freshly fucked smile.

He pulled out of her, resulting in a wince escaping from her mouth. She sat up slowly, waiting for him to help her down from the island.

Y/N asked where the bathroom was, which Draco directed her to. She was weak, unstable, she needed help from him to find her way there. She felt uncomfortable, usually she would leave, but something about Draco made her want to stay.

But she couldn't, she didn't have time for men. After she cleaned herself up there was an awkward silence. Neither of the pair knew what to do.

Draco offered her to stay over but she refused. He put on a light smile, brushing off her rejection. But deep down the pang in his heart made him want to disappear.

"Goodnight Draco" Y/N whispered, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

"Goodnight darling" he smiled.

He watched as she disappeared into the night. Hoping she would turn around and say she wanted to stay but she never.

Draco shut his flat door, he sighed in content, knowing he was one step closer to being reunited with his lost love. One day he would tell her everything that had happened, why he had to obliviate her.

But for now, he would just buy her one more drink.