#char type: open female

[lelemuseslist]

the naive dancer - emma vanity

(socorro não tenho fc kkkkkkk usava um de instagram. enfim!! fc aberto, provavelmente loira, na casa dos 19/20/21 anos, bem baby girl)

Nascida em um berço de ouro, Emma sempre teve tudo que sempre quis. Mimada por ambos pais desde muito nova, a filha única de Nikandros e Mikaella foi ensinada desde sempre dos valores de uma garota de boa família. O homem era um administrador de sucesso, dono de uma grande companhia de contabilidade e finanças, a qual a garotinha nunca entendeu bem do que se tratava. Sua mãe, em compensação, ela entendia muito bem: era uma modelo aposentada, que teve de deixar a carreira logo depois de engravidar. Estava com pretensões de voltar ao trabalho, mas, após receber uma grande herança, acabou deixando a ideia pra lá. Conservadores como eram, ensinaram Emma como ser delicada, recatada e muito obediente, afinal, ela era uma garota! Garotas deviam ser assim, para se tornarem mulheres de classe, uma perfeita dama. E de fato, foi tratada como uma princesa, recebendo todos os mimos e brinquedos que queria. Em seguida, todas as maquiagens, roupas e livros. Os sapatos de salto chegaram, tal qual os sutiãs rendados e as jóias caríssimas. O dinheiro sempre foi tudo que moveu a família, assim como a uniu.

Desde muito novinha, a garota era tratada como uma princesa: tinha estilistas que vinham lhe vestir, professores de etiqueta para lhe ensinar a se comportar, até mesmo aulas em casa! Para que ir para a escola e se misturar com pessoas de tão baixo nível? Não, não fazia sentido, não tinha motivo pra isso, não quando conseguiam pagar pela melhor educação em casa possível. Superprotetores e até um pouco neuróticos, tinham medo de que o mundo corrompesse sua pequena garotinha.

O único espaço de libertação de Emma, então, era o ballet - e mais a frente, a internet também se encaixaria ai. Começou a ter aulas de ballet clássico aos seis anos, foi onde fez suas primeiras amizades. Era seu hobby favorito, dentre todas as coisas que aprendia. Na dança ela sentia que possuia uma forma única de se expressar. O que começou apenas como diversão e um local pra fazer amigos, foi se tornando cada vez mais sério pra si. Aos treze anos, ela já começava a participar de recitais e espetáculos, adorando a forma como sempre conseguia olhares atentos sobre si e uma salva de aplausos no final de cada apresentação. A dança percorria seu corpo perfeitamente, cada detalhe era calculado. Ballet era seu estilo favorito justamente por isso: pela perfeição exigida, pela rigidez e precisão. Ela gostava daquilo. Passava horas e horas com as sapatilhas de salto, para que pudesse conseguir fazer tudo e ir além, sempre queria ser a melhor em tudo.

Com o aumento da carga de treinos e a vontade de pegar testes internacionais para se formar pelas academias de ballet, Emma, que tinha planos de pedir para começar a frequentar uma escola de verdade durante o ensino médio, acabou optando por permanecer com aulas em casa: daquela forma exigiam menos tempo. Ela não podia ter nada tirando seu foco do que realmente importava. Não tinha muitos amigos. Além dos colegas da academia de ballet, restava-lhe o celular. Viciada em instagram e fotos, ela sempre teve bastante alcance, já que usava diversas hashtags e sempre tentava se divulgar por ai: seus vídeos de dança chegarama viralizar. Dessa forma, era natural pra ela perder horas do dia gravando stories e vlogs para o canal, contando de sua vida, de forma que ela acabasse bem menos solitária do que se sentiria normalmente.

Enfim, os dezoito anos chegaram. Terminou a escola remota, mas nunca teve o tão sonhado baile de formatura que via nos filmes. Apesar disso, foi logo por essa época que conseguiu finalmente o diploma da academia de ballet, se formando como bailarina profissional. Era o orgulho de seus pais, uma verdadeira dama! Refinada e delicada como só ela, Emma conquistava a todos com o sorriso gentil e os vídeos de dança e maquiagem na internet. Podia não ser tão famosa, mas a pouca atenção que recebia já era o suficiente para suprir certa carência que vinha de si. Uma pequena sub celebridade que logo depois da escola, estava indo para a sua primeira aventura: um intercâmbio. Foi para a Rússia por um ano e meio, onde fez workshops e pequenos cursos de aprimoramento junto das professoras de sua academia. Apesar de ser a primeira vez tão longe dos pais, se virando sozinha, acabou se escondendo completamente sob as asas dos acompanhantes, para não ter que lidar com nada  nem ninguém. Além disso, ela não falava russo, não precisava conversar com tantas pessoas diferentes assim. Quando voltou, estava decidida: queria se tornar bailarina profissional. Sabendo que o campo era disputado, além do diploma oficial de ballet, ela sentia que devia ter mais no currículo, conhecimento nunca era demais. Decidiu então ir para uma das universidades com o curso de Dança mais bem reconhecido na europa, a Universidade de Hogwarts. Esperou seis meses para que as matrículas se abrissem e logo se jogou naquilo - ao mesmo tempo que se inscrevia em uma academia profissional de bailarinos - afinal, queria ser a melhor. Seu pai havia frequentado a universidade e, também, sido integrante da fraternidade Slytherin, portanto sua entrada na mesma era bem esperada.

PERSONALIDADE

Emma tem um coração bom, é claro. Mas por ter sido criada um tanto quanto reclusa e na companhia dos pais, acabou se tornando um pouco sem noção. Ela diz tudo que pensa, sem muito tato na hora de medir as palavras. É um tanto quanto esnobe e tem um pouco de dificuldade de se colocar no lugar dos outros. Não é má, mas as vezes pode soar uma pessoa ruim justamente por essa falta de percepção. É muito perfeccionista e controladora - principalmente consigo mesma. Odeia falhar e dificilmente se abre para os outros. Tem uma superfície gelada mas sempre sorridente: é simpática com absolutamente todo mundo pois gosta da aprovação alheia. É bastante falante e egocêntrica: em toda a sua vida ela foi o centro de tudo e não sabe lidar com ambientes diferentes daquele. Não percebe bem os problemas do mundo e é muito alienada. É bem carente de atenção e faz de tudo para que o foco seja ela mesma.

HEADCANONS

Tem o pé muito feio e sempre machucado por conta dos anos de práticas de ballet

Geralmente a veem no campus da universidade vestindo collant, mas quando não, provavelmente está com um vestido florido e rodado

É bem ingênua e acredita facilmente nas pessoas, o que a faz muito manipulável

Adora maquiagem e moda, fala bastante disso em seu instagram

É muito ativa, está sempre praticando algum esporte, treinando ou dançando.

Faz corridas matinais todos os dias

Já tentou ser vegana duas vezes, atualmente é vegetariana

É muito preocupada com a aparência, raramente vão a ver descabelada ou descuidada

É bastante medrosa e se sente muito sozinha

Se preocupa muito em manter uma alimentação saudável e balanceada, chegando a ser um pouco noiada com isso. Parte disso veio pela cobrança do corpo perfeito que venho do ballet.

Quando tinha onze anos viu uma aluna de ballet mais velha recebendo uma bronca da professora porque o corpo dela não se encaixa com o padrão do esporte, por ter seios grandes. Conforme Emma foi entrando na puberdade, foi começando a colocar faixas sobre o peito para esconder os seios que começavam a se desenvolver.

Carrega um colar com a inicial “E” no pescoço. É uma corrente fina e delicada, com a letra cravejada em pequenos diamantes

Ainda não se descobriu bissexual, mas sabe que fica um pouco nervosa na presença de garotas muito bonitas.

Não usa roupas curtas demais e nem decotadas - a não ser que tenha um objetivo. Não tem uma boa relação com a própria sexualidade, é bastante insegura nesse sentido

Se cobra muito e às vezes surta

É viciada em apps e faz tudo com ajuda deles: uber, ifood, calendário, controle da menstruação, app que ajuda arrumar mala de viagem, compras, jogos, notas pessoais, organização geral, lembrar de beber água, marcar passos e km andados.

Se deixar ela no quarto, vai ficar o dia inteiro conversando com a Alexa, leva ela pra todas as viagens porque não consegue viver sem.

Tem uma cicatriz na sobrancelha da única vez quando era novinha que conseguiu sair de casa pra se divertir como uma criança normal. Depois de cair e se machucar num parquinho perto de casa, sua mãe lhe disse que aquela marca a deixaria feia e era uma lição para ouvi-la mais. Hoje, na verdade, Emma ama sua cicatriz e acha que é um charme em si mesma.

[cabeswaterdrowned]

I like very few arcs around women esp chars I really love wanting to be mothers/discovering they want to be mothers and that’s essential to their char development, but Daisy’s does work really well for me overall. There was more detail work with it throughout the book but I also liked how the show did it. And I do think one reason (along with construction and how I perceive Daisy as a char) I’m open to liking it/have soft feelings about it is that in both versions she adopts (no pregnancy plots! + I just like it better)

[johnpriceslamb]

𝐌𝐀𝐘 𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐏?

❛ you ask the Van Der Linde boys if you could sit on their lap. ❜

BEFORE YOU PROCEED! ┊female ! reader . afab ! reader . reader is physically shorter than chars mentioned below . suggestive themes implied . wrds . not edited . not proof-read . Javier ver touchy . google translated Spanish . John is very drunk . 1.4k wrd-count

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐍

You want to what?

You tinker your lashes multiple times innocently at his flabbergasted expression, unconsciously tilting your head at his dramatic approach. From your tone alone meant nothing but the most purest intentions, he knew well you mean no harm. But hearing those words made his cheeks burn a tad bit brighter.

“May I please— “No, no, I heard ya the first time- I just..” He abruptly cuts you. He narrows his eyes at you, sizing you up head-to-toe just to see if you were in a playful manner. You weren’t.

He grumbles softly, contemplating. He scratches behind his neck for a bit before a deep sigh escapes his mouth and he leans back on the wooden chair he sat upon.

“C’mere.”

He beckons you to come closer with two fingers lazily waving in the air. Immediately do you obey his simple commands like a lost pup, hands clasped prettily in-front of your chest as you easily plop yourself on his lap. Your back almost hits his chest, akin to a literal brick wall from all of the labour work he’s done. Unconsciously does his large hands come to your hips, positioning them slightly just so you’d be a tad bit more comfortable.

It’s easy to tilt your head upwards to see his face, the prickles of hair sticking out on his chin is the most prominent thing from your view. He feels your stare almost immediately and looks down at your beady eyes. He has to stop himself from grinning at your unawareness.

The cowpoke could only narrow his eyes at the soft giggle you produced from your mouth, a hand resting on your hip, “What?”

You look away with a tiny smile, “Nuthin’.”

He lets out another deep sigh, before pinching your cheek.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐍

The bottle of beer in his hand almost slips to the ground after hearing your simple question.

He raises a hand to scratch at the stubble on his jaw, mindful to be aware of the deep claw-marks embedded on his skin. The bottle was placed on the table with a clumsy clatter, back supported by the edge of the table.

“..Watchu say?” He squints his dark eyes at you. He must’ve drunk too much, perhaps he heard you wrong. His tone was always raspy yet so demeaning playful even. You took it as if he didn’t want you to, and you shrink meekly.

You stutter shyly, “I’ll just go ask someone else—

He felt his guts squeeze and churn at the sight of you sitting on someone else’s lap. All sense of proper etiquette is thrown away from jealousy and alcoholic behaviour, his hand is very quick to grabbing yours as he roughly pulls you back. A tiny squeal escapes your lap as you clumsily fall on his chest and onto his hard thighs.

Your hands are clinging onto his opened top to balance yourself, the smirk on his face visible as he sees how shy you suddenly became.

The strong scent of alcohol makes your nose scrunch up. He rests his chin on the crook of your neck, stubble lightly tickling your sensitive skin. After a few minutes of making yourself comfy on his lap and finally staying still, his hand comes to grab his bottle to take another chug.

“John,” You almost whine at the way he unconsciously starts to bounce his knee up and down. A habit he’s not prone to ever since he started drinking. It was almost like he forgot you were sitting on his lap after a few minutes. Immediately does he stop his movement, a low slurr of babbles and a soft hiccup escapes his lips, “Whoops— sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart.”

Suddenly, he cheekily stares down at you.

“Y’know,” He hics.

“Yer behind feels kinda good on my-

“John.”

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐇

He’s a bit clueless at first, bless his heart.

He’s busy carving a small piece of wood with his knife, hunched over as his long hair falls, covering the sides of his face almost elegantly. He wasn’t bothered to tie his hair back, nor raise a finger to place it behind his ear. He stops re-shaping the small piece of wood as he hears a soft patter of footsteps from in-front.

“Hm?” He hums, his guard lowers significantly once realising it was you. The knife is lowered too, and the items were placed afar so it does not distract you nor come in your way.

“May I please sit on your lap?” You ask with those big beady eyes of yours, hands behind your back as your tone is light and sweet.

Of course, silence is ensured for a few seconds. His brooding figure straightens up from his spot. He quirks a dark, angular brow at your much smaller figure.

“Why?” He asks with a straight face.

Your cheeks burn, and your expression was alike of a kicked pup. He catches on quickly, and he immediately feels bad for seeming so nonchalant and blunt.

“U-Um.. I just, I wanted to.. N-nevermind. Sorry.” You shyly stammer, akin to a doe whom tries to stand up for the first time.

He easily suppresses the smile which almost etched onto his face at your stuttering. Cute.

“I didn’t say no, y’know.” He gestures you to come over with a simple pat on his thigh. You beam, eagerly toddling to him like a tiny tot wanting to get her stuffies. You sit yourself on his thighs, shoes quite literally lifting off of the ground because of how big he was. Even if he sat down, he still always towered over you.

He allows you to wiggle a bit on his lap, but a hand comes down to rest on your knee to squeeze it a bit as a gentle warning to not go any higher. You do obey, of course. Your back is to his chest, your hands positioned on your lap as you almost melt at how warm he was.

“Comfortable?” At each word he uttered to you, it was more toned down in pitch, a low hum always started. You nod lazily, a smile of satisfaction of how comfy he felt underneath. You don’t mind the way he snakes his arms around your waist. “Good.”

𝐉𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐔𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀

You regret asking.

Simply put, he’s handsy.

The smirk on his face is very visible. The log he rests upon feels even more smaller as he slowly starts to manspread right in front of you. The guitar in his hand is placed gently just to the side before he beckons you to come forth. You reluctantly sit on his lap, almost squirming at how close he was.

A hand on your hip, another squish to your thigh, a soft roll from his hip teasingly upwards, a touch here, a touch there..

“Javier!” You whine, swatting his hand off your curves. He could only teasingly grin, before shrugging. “..Tu pediste esto.” His voice serenades.

You try to swat his hands off again, but merely give up, knowing he won’t stop any time soon. You lay your cheek on his chest, lithe arms wrapped around his waist as your back arches a tad bit from not supporting your structure. His hands are on the small of your back, rubbing small circles on the softness of your clothed skin.

The embers from the mini camp-fire is light and descends off in the dark night, crackles of the wood calms your nerves down just a bit. He does tone his touch down just a tad bit for your sake, despite wanting to desperately grab at.. literally anything. He’s had ladies before, but by far was he the neediest when it came to you.

You can’t help but take a small peak from above, wispy lashes coming to tinker a bit when he tilts his gaze to fixate on you. A small smile on his face, as he greedily eats up all of the touch you gave to him.

“..hi.” You quietly mumble, a bit muffled because of the fact that half of your face is mushed against the fabrics of his clothes. A fox-like grin etches on his tan face as he presses a tiny kiss on your forehead, entertaining you by replying with a simple “hola.”

“You’re really clingy- and touchy. I hope you know that.” You grumble when his hand comes to cup your curves again.

He smiles lazily. “I know.”

[chrisevansonly]

𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ʚ charles leclerc x female reader

ʚ charles gets the one call he never wanted to get, and despite your worries about his precious pista, he doesn’t care about the car. just you.

ʚ angst, description of injuries (minor), mentions of blood, panic attacks, violence (minor), tears and lots of soft charles

ʚ okay idk why i thought of this idea, but i have and here we are, i know people have been asking for angst, this idk if it qualifies as the angst you’re all looking for but I will work on some other ideas too:)

Time was frozen as you sat in the driver’s seat of what once looked like a Ferrari 488 Pista. Only now you could make out the back of the car, the front of it might as well be in a what not to do when you drive a luxury vehicle catalogue. Your head was ringing and your chest pounding as adrenaline and anxiety pumped through your veins, as much as you’d started to feel pain in a multitude of places, your brain was thinking of only one thing;

Charles is going to be so mad.

To make matters worse, the man who had hit you was now cursing through the tinted window, claiming the accident to be all your fault. Deciding to think about Charles’s potential anger later you picked your phone up and called his number.

Thankfully it didn’t take long, 

“Hi baby, are you on your way back”

A pause 

“Um…I-I got in an accident Char…”

The line was silent before he spoke up, panic laced in his voice. 

“Qu'entendez-vous par ��accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse.”

“Charles, english please my head hurts so bad.”

Normally you’d be able to hold an entire conversation with him in French, but right now it was just too much.

“I’m sorry, where are you baby? Are you hurt bad?”

Sniffling softly, you hummed

“I am down by the marina; my head really hurts. The man who hit me…he-he is yelling loudly at me…can you-oh Charles your poor car….”

“No, don’t even worry about my car baby, you matter more to me, I can’t replace you, but I can replace the car. I’ll be there in ten minutes, keep the doors locked, don’t get out.”

You nodded, only then realizing he couldn’t see you. 

“Yes, okay, I’ll wait here…please hurry”

“I will chérie, I promise.”

-

Just like he’d said, a familiar black Alfa Romeo pulled up next to the crash site, Charles quick to get out and come towards the driver’s side door, only to see the man banging at the window. 

“Hey, can you step away from my car?”

The man turned to look at Charles

“Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!”

“Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture”

It was getting harder for Charles to reign in his anger, quickly pushing the man back, giving him a look that at this point in the evening, had him backing away, finally allowing Charles to open the door and see you

“Hey..hey.. I’m here, its okay?”

Charles swore his heart broke as you looked at him with teary eyes, a bruise above your eyebrow, but thankfully you appeared alright otherwise.

“I-I’m so sorry about your car Charlie, he just-he came out of nowhere, and I-I couldn’t-I am so so sorry!”

Holding back the sobs was almost impossible at this point, but Charles was quick to undo your seatbelt, helping you turn towards the door and put your feet on the ground. Once he had you turned toward him, he brought his hands up to hold your face, his thumbs swiping your cheeks.

“My love, listen to me, you are my main priority, you are the love of my life, and this car is just mental and parts, all which can be fixed, but you cannot, and I cannot have another one of you, ever okay?”

Sniffling you nodded

“Okay…”

In the distance you could heard the sirens coming your way, knowing you’d be going to the hospital, it was a given but for now you really just needed Charles, and he wasn’t going anywhere, that was for sure.

“Are you hurting badly baby?”

“No, just my head…can you help me up?”

Your boyfriend nodded, holding onto your arms gently as he helped you stand up, before bringing you into his chest, your arms wrapping around him, as he did the same to you.

“I am so glad you’re okay, you have no idea how worried I was…we’ll get you to the hospital and then i’m not leaving your side”

“Promise you won’t?”

Charles smiled as he saw your pinky finger come up, quickly linking his in a pink promise, a tradition you’d both been doing since your third date.

“I promise, i’m not going anywhere”

As the sirens got closer, you leaned further into Charles, knowing no matter what happened, he’d be by your side for as long as you needed him, he’d be there. It didn’t matter if he had a race, media or social events to attend, for you he’d drop them in a heart beat over and over again.

Because he never wanted to get that kind of phone call again.

translations:

-Qu'entendez-vous par ‘accident?’  Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Où es-tu, es-tu gravement blesse : What do you mean by 'accident?' What happened? Where are you, are you seriously injured?

-Cette stupide salope a détruit ma voiture!: This stupid bitch destroyed my car!

-Je vous le redemande, éloignez-vous de ma voiture: I'm asking you again, get away from my car

[vbecker10]

You Are My Home

Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)

Summary: Loki leaves you for a month to visit Asgard with Thor and you are more then excited to welcome him home.

A/N: This is not what I'm supposed to be working on right now but I listened to the song linked below on the way home and the damn thing just wrote itself... enjoy 💚

In the two and a half years you and Loki have been together, this is by far the longest you have ever been apart. Loki would often spend a few days or even a week away on missions but today is day thirty without him. He and Thor returned to Asgard to take care of a political matter and you were both devastated to find out you would not be able to go with him. You had cried yourself to sleep in his arms the night before he left and you haven't slept a full night since.

You spent the whole day anxiously awaiting this moment, he is finally going to arrive any minute. Looking at yourself in the window, you check your makeup and hair for the hundredth time, wanting to look perfect for him. You smooth out the fabric on your favorite dress and smile, Loki bought it for you to wear for your first anniversary. It is a deep emerald green and fits your body as if it was made for you.

The wind picks up suddenly and your heart beats faster, you know instantly the Bifrost is opening. You turn away from the building and walk across the grass to wait closer to the open area where they will arrive. You can barely contain your excitement as the air around you buzzes. Lightning and streaks of bright colored lights pierce the thick clouds and burn into the dried grass behind the Avengers Compound.

You force yourself to stay where you are until the wind ties down and the lights fade. You see two tall figures standing in the center of a charred spiral.

"Loki!" your legs immediately carry you towards him.

"Y/N!" he answers, his voice full of joy as he quickly moves to meet you. He pulls you into a tight hug, lifting you easily off the ground as he spins, making you giggle. You wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his desperately, as if you are trying to make up for all of the kisses you two have missed out on in the last month.

"Gods, how I've missed you," he says when you break the kiss, he puts you down and keeps his arms around you.

"I missed you every second you were gone," you tell him honestly. "Promise me if you ever go home again, you'll take me with you."

He raises one hand to stroke your cheek lightly, "Asgard is many things, my dear, but I don't call it home anymore."

You look at him curiously and he smiles, "I was going to wait to do this until tonight but I don't want to wait another moment."

He looks over his shoulder at his older brother who smiles at you both and takes a few steps away.

You cover your mouth with your left hand as your heart pounds quickly in your chest. "Loki?" you barely whisper in disbelief as he take a small step away from you and gets down on one knee.

A small ring box appears in one hand with a green flash and he takes your right hand in his other hand.

"Y/N, home is where you are and every night I spent alone on Asgard was worth it to come back to you. You are my home, you are my everything when I feel alone. You are my shelter when all my hope is gone. You are my heart, you are the one I want to spend every minute of every day with. I love you with every fiber of my being," he says as he looks up at you. "Y/N, my love, my queen. Will you make me the happiest man in the nine realms by becoming my wife?"

"Yes! Yes," you say excitedly as Loki stands. "I love you," you tell him as he slips the most beautiful ring you have ever seen onto your finger.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚

@soubi001 @michelleleewise @harlequin-hangout @ace-of-gay @xorpsbane @mochie85 @sheris532 @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @kkdvkyya @animnerd @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @lokiandbuckysdoll @winterfrostlovetriangle @high-functioning-lokipath @winniewings @pics-and-fanfics @cabingrlandrandomcrap @icytrickster17 @lokisgoodgirl @mischief2sarawr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @mjsthrillernp @holdmytesseract @lulubelle814 @crimson25 @goblingirlsarah @janineb86 @simone818283 @tonystank8 @im-briana-stan @foxherder @chantsdemarins @catsladen @alexakeyloveloki @siconetribal @lokidokieokie @dragonmurray @honeydew3064 @malfoycassimalfoy @kneelingformyloki @newtomofgods @jiyascepter @eleniblue

[muiri-noir]

September commissions are open⚡️

Price 120 usd, (weapons + 20 usd). Female chars only!No males, nsfw, furry, robots. :> Deadline ~ 4 weeks.

Dm me if you’ve got any questions ^^

[feelingf1]

It’s not much of an idea but pulling on Charles leclerc’s hair while he eats reader out is constantly on my mind

pulling on locks - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x female!reader

summary: based on this ask! make sure to send in a request if you have one. hope you like it <33

warnings: NSFW

enjoy!!

————

You were lying on your bed, watching the time going by painfully slow. Charles was on his way home from a triple header, and you had been missing him, and his body, like crazy.

Since he’s been gone, you’ve been hornier than ever. You’ve had to deal with phone sex, so you couldn’t be more glad to have him back.

You heard a text come through to your phone.

C❤️

I’ll be home in a hour, have to do some errands xx

You physically felt like you couldn’t wait an hour, so you came up with the perfect idea. You pulled out yours and Charles’ favourite lingerie set you owned. It was a light blue colour with tiny embroidered flowers. You knew how crazy it drove Charles.

You grabbed your phone and hit the FaceTime button, but only facing the camera above your eyes, getting ready to surprise him.

“Cherie, what’s up?” He said when he answered.

“Uh, I need something.” You asked, softly.

“From the shop? What is it, food or-”

You flipped the camera around so all Charles could see was you, lying on your bed in the lingerie. You flipped the camera back to your face, watching as his mouth fell open.

“I think you know what I need.” You replied.

“I’ll be home in 10. Don’t do anything.”

He hung up the call, and you could feel your core getting wet already with excitement. Although he said not to do anything, you couldn’t help but massage your tits while waiting, little moans escaping your lips.

Your heard the front door of your house open, followed by the quick footsteps that lead to your bedroom door. Charles was taken aback by the beautiful sight of your sprawled across your shared bed. Your little lingerie set didn’t leave much to the imagination.

“Hi, baby.” You said softly.

As quick as lightning, Charles slipped off his shoes and coat, discarding them on the floor, before crawling onto the bed until his was hovering over you, his beautiful eyes piercing into yours.

“You drive me crazy. You know that right?” Charles said in a low, husky tone, rubbing in thumb across your lower lip.

“I know.” You replied.

You noticed his chain hanging from his neck and you pulled it and him closer towards you, until your lips were locked.

At first it was a soft, sensual kiss. But it didn’t take long for want and need to take over. You pushed your tongue in to Charles mouth, needing all of him as close to you as possible.

You broke away for a few seconds. “Please, Charles. I need more.”

You and your pussy were crying out for attention. And while the kissing was enjoyable, right now it wasn’t enough.

A smirk grew across Charles’ face when he seen you begging under him.

“Anything for my lady.”

He started planting kisses all down your neck, sucking and grazing his teeth at the places the drove you crazy. Moans startled to tumble out of your lips and your head tilted back

Once he reached your tits, he lifted you up slightly, unclipping your bra and discarding it on the floor. He took your tit in his mouth and starting sucking on it, whilst squeezing the other one.

“Fuck Charles, please.” You screamed, you didn’t know how much more you could take of the teasing.

Pretty quickly, Charles moved down to your thighs. He licked a big stripe from your lower thigh to your underwear. He grabbed the hem of your lingerie with his teeth and pulled them down to your knees, and they quickly fell to the floor. If you were wet before, you were dripping now.

He started kissing your cunt. Soft, delicate, little kisses which drove you insane. You could feel both your breathing and heart rate start to increase.

“Char-” You couldn’t even finish your sentence without moans coming out of your mouth.

“Sit up princess. I want to see your pretty little face while I fuck you with my tongue.” He said, his voice raspy.

You grabbed the pillow and propped yourself up against it. You now had the perfect view of Charles between your legs, something that every girl and Italian man has dreamt of.

He spread your legs as wide as he could and starting peppering more soft kisses on your pussy. He knew that this drove you insane. He reached back up to your tits and started massaging them too.

“Charles, please.” You cried out.

Charles looked up at you and saw just how desperate you were and he couldn’t bring himself to tease you anymore.

He licked a big stripe between your folds before entering you.

He felt so good, so could feel your head and eyes starting to roll back, but you tried to remain sitting up straight, like he had asked you to.

He started to enter his tongue deeper into you and you had to grab onto something to keep you supported.

His locks.

You fingers found their way to Charles’ hair and you grabbed on, wrapping his locks around your fingers.

“Fuck, Charles.” You said, you know it wasn’t going to be long until you came.

Charles hand left your tits and made its way down to your clit. Once he started running your clit, you knew it was nearly game over.

“Fuckkkk.” You said, with more moans rolling over your tongue. Once of your hands reached your tits, and you started rubbing them. The other hand was still in Charles’ hair, and your grip was only increasing.

His tongue left your pussy for a few seconds until he forced it in again, as deep as he could go.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Go on, amour.”

Your grip on his locks tightened as you forced him in further, and as he started moving his turn in your pussy, you felt that knot in your stomach snap. Charles watched you, like you were some delicacy. He loved this.

The only thing that could be heard was your moans as you came undone on Charles’ face. Your fingers never left his head, you needed something to help you ride out your incredible high.

Your head tipped back and your legs started to shake, and before you knew it, you had lost all power in your body and your laid yourself down on the beat, your pussy throbbing.

Charles licked up all of your cum before lying down beside you and kissing you again, and you could taste all of your juices on his tongue.

“I love you.” You said, you voice delicate.

“I love you too, amour” He replied.

————

Hope this was okay :)

[p1nkprincess444]

ִֶָ𓂃˖˳·˖ ִֶָ ⋆ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴍʏ ᴛʜɪɢʜs - ᴄʜᴀʀʟɪᴇ ᴡᴀʟᴋᴇʀ ⋆ ִֶָ˖·˳˖𓂃 ִֶָ

୨୧ not proof read!! ୨୧

female!reader x charlie walker

word count: 721

contents: 18+, slight mentions of somnophilia

You woke up in your bed as Charlie’s lips pressed gentle kisses against your skin. You were in a complete haze as his hands moved under your pajama top, they groped at your breasts while he murmured sweet things against your skin. 

“ How did you get in, ” my voice was still groggy from sleep as my eyes locked on Charlie’s hungry gaze.

“ Your window was unlocked- and I missed you. ”

A gentle hum reverberated off your lips as Charlie’s lips moved down your body pressing kisses to each of your breasts over your shirt. He quickly moved his head under your shirt letting his hands and mouth find your breasts. His tongue swirled around your nipple sucking on the hardened peak before moving to the next. He moved out from under your shirt before pulling the fabric over your head. His kisses moved back up to your lips as his hands wandered all over your body. He slowly pushed down your pajama shorts before his hand disappeared into your panties. His fingers delved into your soaking cunt slowly pushing in and out of you. His lips were pressed against yours in a heated kiss as his fingers pumped in and out of your cunt. 

“ You want me baby, ” his words were teasing as his fingers curled inside you.

All his teasing movements were making you grow closer to your inevitable release as his fingers pushed deeper and his tongue tangled with yours. 

“ Char please- don’t tease me. ”

A devilish grin plastered across his face as he looked up at you. His gaze locked on yours as he sat up on his heels. He began undressing until he was left in his boxers. You lifted your hips for him as he slid off your panties, throwing them on the floor with the rest of your clothes. He quickly pushed off his boxers as you opened your legs to him. He sunk into you without warning causing a loud moan to leave your lips before Charlie clasped a hand over your mouth. 

“ Don’t want your parents to know what I’m doing to their daughter, do we now? ”

Charlie’s mouth latched onto your breasts covering the soft skin in hickies as his hips slowly rocked against yours. You couldn’t help the moans that fell from your lips that were suppressed by his hand. You couldn’t help the way your hips rolled against his, the way his cock filled you so perfectly. Just how Charlie couldn’t help sneaking into your room at night while you slept. It wasn’t the first time he had done this and nor would it be the last, this however was just one of the fortunate times you had woken up. 

His cock was drilling into your cervix as he whispered soft praises into your ear. Your moans were growing louder and louder until they were practically screams as he attempted to muffle the noise with his hand. 

“ Princess if you keep it up people are gonna think you’re getting murdered in here, ” Charlie’s statement was undercut by the fact he was chuckling as he pressed kisses into your neck. “ Are you close? ”

You nodded eagerly as you stared up into his deep blue eyes. Charlie couldn’t help but smile at your eagerness while he began to pick up the pace pounding mercilessly into your cunt. His hand that wasn’t covering your mouth tangled in your hair as he pressed his forehead to yours. 

Your orgasm came crashing down on you like a wave as your eyes rolled back in your head and your back arched. Charlie’s relentless pounding never slowed as he grew nearer and nearer to his own release. His hips stilled against yours as he shot ropes of cum deep into your cunt. His hand slowly withdrew from your mouth before he quickly replaced it with his lips.

“ I love you, you know that? ”

I nodded in response as I placed a gentle kiss to his soft lips, “ I love you too Char. ”

Charlie's head came to rest in the crook of your neck as he stayed inside of you while you both slept. It was the little moments like these that helped him completely forget about being ghostface. You hadn’t known this but everytime Charlie killed someone he’d sneak over and find comfort in between your thighs.

[sinisterexaggerator]

Little Red Dress

Hancock x Fem! Reader | AO3

Summary: You're wearing a little red dress, one that teases and tantalizes Hancock. You're the Mayor of Goodneighbor's prized possession, and it does not bode well for you to tempt him so, especially in public.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ for KNIFE PLAY, Penis in Vagina Sex, Exhibitionism/Public Sex. Kissing, tit sucking, finger sucking, explicit language, PDA, and self-indulgent smut. Basically, I wanted to write something quick and dirty. >D

*Hancock is a little bit rough with you this time, but he would never hurt you.

Word count: 2.2k+

Notes: I've got it bad for Hancock. This is my second time writing for him! Sort of came out of nowhere. Ultimately, it could be interpreted as Hancock x female Sole. It's up to you to decide! Enjoy!

Hancock—he is decidedly more comfortable with public displays of affection than you would have imagined him to be, your throne expressly atop his lap, legs crossed for the sake of modesty in the presence of proper company. Your nights out are spent dolled up, clutched like a trophy by the Mayor of Goodneighbor—his prized possession over caps or chems—and what a lucky girl you are to be his favorite.

Hancock, with eager, explorative hands, hugging you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. His touch is firm, yet gentle, roving over every inch of your smooth skin left bare and assailable, the ghoul fondling your thighs, working higher, higher, skirting your lap to squeeze your waist with often unpredictable, gratifying tenderness.  

The man is anything but a mystery; you could read him like an open book if such things still existed, his lustful looks starting a fire between your legs that could just as soon be doused by how wet he can make you with a single glance, a single caress beneath the hem of your little red dress.

It drives him crazy, that dress, John desperate enough to pinch your ass in public—worse than that—whispering dirty little nothings in your ear, forcing you to suppress your giggling as the man himself pretends all is well, conversing with the good people of the Commonwealth.

It's a game. He doesn’t care—he’s into that sort of thing— not above making another man green with envy when it comes to you. Hancock has no trouble in reminding everyone just who you belong to, his favorite pastime sneaking you off to shadowy, secluded corners to fuck you with his eyes while withered fingers glide over tight curves and refined angles, just vague outlines in the dark, though his pupils glow like dwindling embers among black, charred logs, captivating you like a moth toward a flame.

“You wanna get out of here?” he asks in a gravelly, self-assured tone, pulling you close, diggin’ your scent, and he knows you sure as fuck taste damn delicious.

It’s been too long, like chems that wore off; he needs another fix, and he’s willing to take it where he can get it. In fact, railing you in the back room of the Third Rail ain’t soundin’ too shabby right about now—you’re wearin’ a dress, after all—just hike it up.

“No,” you whisper, egging him on, desiring to get a rise out of Hancock in more ways than one. It works, the man leering down at you from beneath the short brim of his tricornered hat. His eyes are glistening, shining like polished marbles, staring into the depths of your soul. It can’t be helped, John’s hard-on riding against your thigh without shame, causing your breath to hitch.  

“No?” he presses, his negation laced with arrogance and disbelief. A hidden blade whisks out from decadent, stained sleeves, teasing you with nothing more than a good time. The cool texture of sleek metal grazes your skin, skimming your pulse point. Hancock’s knife trails down the swell of a breast to take a dilatory, lackadaisical dive between your cleavage; it threatens to slice shimmering red fabric in twain.

“I’m going to fuck you either way, sunshine,” he rasps, skinny lips, still so kissable, hovering tantalizingly over your own.

The knife end of his blade drifts along your belly, an expert flick of the ghoul’s wrist twirling it to catch betwixt two dexterous fingers. The hilt disappears up under your skirt; he knows you’re not wearing panties, that bit of cold steel broaching your entrance, sliding into slick, taut confines to penetrate you with ease.

“I-I know,” you offer demurely, a tremor to your voice, Hancock sliding the hilt in and out with delicate, precise strokes. His weapon of choice is carefully wielded, knowing what damage he could cause. He leans in close to your ear, reveling in the awestruck expression you’re sporting; he would stop in a heartbeat should you wish him to, yet you make no move to protest, nor do you plan to.

“Did you take your Rad-X like a good girl?” he asks dissolutely; his breath is warm, the combat knife’s handle slipping out once more to brush against your clit on its way up. The action causes you to dip forward even as you try to keep yourself steady, hands flat to the wall as he holds you in place.  

“Yes,” you answer bravely, your tongue moving to kiss your lover with all the passion currently welling up inside your chest; he skirts your attempt, his forefinger pinning your tongue, slithering its way past lips and teeth to delve into the moist cavity of your mouth.

“Of course you did,” he replies, sliding that digit in and out as you hold on, cheeks hollowing to the concave depths of a ghoul’s. You suck his index like it’s his cock; Hancock watches every nuanced movement with a tilt of his head, eventually pinching your cheeks closed with his thumb and middle, pulling his finger loose with a rousing pop.

“I’d say you’re good and ready,” he comments silkily, voice darkening as he holds the knife aloft for your inspection. It’s saturated in your own excess, Hancock licking the handle clean with the flat of his tongue. You watch, enthralled, though you’re sure you’re not the only one seeing this event unfold—the people of Goodneighbor talk—you’re not above being a source of gossip.

“Come on, sister,”  he coaxes, pallid fingers curling around the shoulder strap of your gown to tug you forward, still withholding that kiss you so sorely crave.

He drags you by this single strip of fabric, avoiding all other eyes but yours; you see people nudging, whispering, sharing glances, but it only adds fuel to the fire, Hancock ushering you to a lesser used area of the bar.

“But, Hancock, there’s peo—” you begin, the ghoul concealing his knife once more for later use, perhaps, clicking his tongue disrespectfully as he interrupts you mid-sentence.

“—Let ‘em watch,” the mayor of this seedy settlement snaps, escorting you past its nosy denizens to the farthest room, splaying his open palm across the small of your back as he gently drives you forward, directing you toward one particular chair in the process.

“Don’t play coy with me…” he grates, positioning you before a plush red high-back that rests against worn, chipped tile. He prods you with his skinny ribs, prompting you to rest your knee against its seat. You oblige, taking hold of sturdy wood to balance yourself as you feel a sudden draft—Hancock wastes no time in slinking your dress up past the round shape of your ass.

You feel like a cheap whore while at the same time exhilarated beyond measure, bending forward for a more pleasing angle as you glance over your shoulder at the ghoul whose cock is withdrawn, John trailing his mushroom tip along the moist line of your slit.

“But I can’t kiss you like this,” you beg, faced with rock and not Hancock, his idle hand slipping up the front of your risqué little number for his thumb to part pillowy lips, nestling its way in.

“Good girls know patience,” he slyly replies, rubbing soft circles against your already swollen clit. An indecent moan accompanies the insertion of his cock into your tepid core, Hancock beginning to roll forward, thrusting his hips against the meat of your ass as he fucks your pretty cunt from behind.

“Just admit you planned for this,” he hisses, one hand still working you as the other squeezes the fullness of a breast. You are hardly able to contain an audible expression of lust, breaths deep and slow as you attempt to curtail your mounting orgasm.

“You can’t resist me,” you brazenly claim, causing the man to rail against you harder, faster, the small flare of his temper only serving to please you; two fingers tweak a raised nipple as a form of punishment.

“Ought to make you suck me off instead; shut that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers bitingly, though he doesn’t mean a word. His favorite place is buried between your loins, so glossy and warm, like an inviting hug—one he wishes would never end.

“Do it,” you bait, although thoroughly enjoying yourself, John’s ribbed flesh hitting just the right spot, only to be ripped away just as suddenly. He slides out and whirls you around abruptly, causing a momentary sensation of vertigo, afraid you might lose your balance, though his grip is strong and secure.

You’re met with piercing black pupils amidst a sea of the deepest crimson, rivaling the color of dried blood. The mayor is testing you; you don’t back down, holding his gaze with the same intense, quiet ferocity.

“I have a better idea.” A shuffle down below, and he hoists you up with the use of with both sinewy arms, kicking that damned chair out of his way as he slams you back against the wall. You tighten your legs about him with his aid, enclosing his slim waist to lock him in; the ghoul fumbles to reinsert his aching prick inside you before you have time to say another word.

His tongue is in your mouth only briefly; you moan around it, muscles contracting and roiling like the waves of a once vast, unpolluted ocean as he plows you like there’s no tomorrow—and there very well may not be.

His hands are grasping, clawing, hungry, desiring to touch every part of you at the same time, though impossible— it is an infuriating truth he condemns. Hancock’s dick hounds your G-spot; you are no longer able to withhold the lewd noises you wish to make, the ghoul rudely clamping a palm over your mouth to temporarily deaden all sound.

“You’re lucky I don’t just rip this off you,” he grumbles, sucking the salt off your skin, buried in your throat for the purpose—he’s referring to that damnable dress that gets his irradiated blood pumping like nothing else. You manage a smile once he dislodges his hand, cloyingly sweet and meant as mockery, squeezing your thighs tighter to draw him in close.

Your own hands find the flesh of his belly, groping and molesting scar tissue and lean muscle, your pelvic floor flexing unfairly around him. You almost laugh at the visceral reaction that follows, Hancock having bitten down on his own ruined lip.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you insist, knowing just how much John loves you in that dress, loves how good you look in it, your actions pulling a moan from your lover that is like the most heavenly music to your ears.

“Wouldn’t I?” he asks defiantly, a series of quick movements causing you to gasp as he rips clean through the right strap; that pesky blade had reemerged to do his dirty work.

“Hancock!” you protest. The ghoul’s not listening, having loosed your tit for anyone who dare try and interrupt you; John kneads its doughy flesh in the crook of his palm.

“What’s that, sunshine?” he asks derisively, jerking his hips, his neck craning downward as he lifts your breast toward his mouth. He sucks your hardened nipple while pinching the other that has inevitably joined its twin, the single strap left intact not enough to hold it up, or in.

The bastard knows all your erogenous zones, this being but one of them, his patient suckling and the steady pump of his prick sending you over the edge.

You cum, coating his dick in your secretions, this time the ghoul allowing your voice to soar—it’s a pretty song, one he likes to listen to on repeat, and for the moment you don’t care who hears you.

“That’s my girl,” Hancock purrs, having released your breast from his puckered lips to watch the gesticulations of your face mid-throe. Your pleasurable spasming only causes his girth to convulse inside you, filling you full up with his infertile sperm.

Truth be told, it’s one of the benefits, being with a ghoul—no risk of an unwanted pregnancy at the end of the World. Only now, you are left half naked in the middle of a public space, Hancock’s ejaculate beginning to run down your leg.

Like coming down off a spectacular high, Hancock pulls out, stuffs his junk back in his pants, and looks you over.

“What a mess I’ve made,” he teases. You frown outright, though he thinks it’s cute, like you’re pouting or being petulant like a spoiled child—it’s one of the things that tugs on his heartstrings, though you never intend to abuse it.  

“What am I supposed to do now?” you whine, “I can’t go out there like—”

“—Hey, here,” Hancock proffers, taking a moment to remove his red frock coat. He gently shifts to stand behind you and slips it over your bare shoulders, assisting in the lift of your arms until you are comfortably sequestered in its warmth.

It fits, covering your naughty bits well enough that you will be able to make it back home to the State House. Hancock seems unable to help himself, a smirk tugging impishly at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” you ask with a hint of attitude, pushing lightly against his chest with the palm of your hand. It’s as if he has a secret not worth keeping, his expression devolving into something a bit more playful.

“Looks good on you,” he affirms, taking up that offending hand to kiss. “But maybe next time you’ll listen to your mayor.”

[dee-writes-anime]

Cute fluffy Dabi story alert!! Your gonna love it 🥰

Dabi with a female chubby civilian girlfriend who he’s all lovey-dovey for, but one day he told her about he’s a villain? (After he ran into Mr. Compress and Toga on his way home) but she laughed and told him that she knew all along and that she loves him. And then Dabi introduced her as his fiancé to the league, she also explained that her quirk is a healing based but the healing part comes from the food she makes (like Julieta from Encanto)

Just Good Enough For You

FEATURING Touya 'Dabi' Todoroki x Reader

SUMMARY No matter who you are, you are just good enough for me.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, LOV crack, Dabi (ifykykyk), mentions of villiany and murder and stuff :)

AUTHORS NOTE stopppp cause this was the cutest, most wholesome request everrrr!!! Thank you so much for sharing this lovely thought with me, I really hope you enjoy how I brought it to life! <3 P.S. I promise the Toge fic is coming, college is eating me alive RAHH

Dabi had never been the type to hesitate. He’d burned bridges, enemies, and even his own emotions without so much as a second thought. But tonight, standing just outside your shared apartment, his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets, he was hesitating.

He wasn’t sure how you’d take it.

A villain. A murderer. That’s who he was. And yet, somehow, you’d always looked at him like he was so much more. Like you saw past the charred skin and the cold eyes, straight into whatever piece of humanity he had left. And it scared the hell out of him.

He could still hear Mr. Compress’s voice ringing in his ears from earlier that day.

“So, when are you going to tell your girlfriend who you really are? She’s bound to figure it out sooner or later.”

Toga had chimed in too, her high-pitched giggles grating on his nerves. “Oh, I bet she’d love to see your flames up close! You should show her! I mean, doesn’t she already wonder where you go when you disappear for days?”

He’d brushed them off, made some snide comment about minding their own business, but the truth was, they’d struck a nerve. Deep down, Dabi knew it was only a matter of time before you found out, and he hated the thought of you hating him when that moment came.

With a sigh, he finally pushed open the door and stepped inside, his boots heavy against the wooden floor. The smell of something savory cooking wafted through the air, and despite his anxiety, he couldn’t help but smile faintly. You always seemed to know when he needed comfort. Food had a way of soothing him in ways words couldn’t, and you, with your quirk and your gentle soul, were the only person he’d ever trusted to get close enough to touch his heart.

“Hey, lover,” your voice called from the kitchen, light and warm, like always. “You’re home late. Hungry?”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he walked toward the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you move around the stove. You were wearing that oversized sweater he loved, the one that made you look extra cozy and cute. He’d teased you about it once, calling you a “walking marshmallow,” but secretly, he adored how soft and chubby you looked in it.

“Babe?” you called out again, glancing over your shoulder. “Everything okay?”

His silence must’ve tipped you off because the smile you wore faltered slightly. Turning off the burner, you wiped your hands on a towel before crossing the room to him. The concern in your eyes only made the lump in his throat worse.

“Touya… what’s wrong?” you asked softly, your hands reaching out to grasp his scarred fingers.

He flinched slightly at the use of his real name. You always reserved that for the moments when you wanted to break down his walls. And damn it, if you weren’t good at it.

“I need to tell you something,” he finally muttered, his voice rougher than usual. His hand squeezed yours tighter, as though preparing himself for the worst. “Something you probably won’t like.”

The worry on your face deepened, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stepped closer, your thumb brushing over his scarred knuckles in that soothing way you always did when he was tense. “Whatever it is, just tell me. You know I’m here for you.”

He swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise uncomfortably in his chest. Why was this so damn hard?

“I’m not who you think I am,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. His eyes dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet your gaze. “I mean, you know my real name, but you don’t know what I’ve done… who I’ve become.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, and you tilted your head slightly, waiting for him to explain. He’d never been one for long-winded speeches, so he forced himself to just rip off the band-aid.

“I’m Dabi,” he said in a low voice. “The villain. You’ve seen me on the news, you know the stuff I’ve done. I’ve killed people. Burned them alive.” His jaw clenched, his entire body stiff with guilt and fear. “And if you’re smart, you’ll walk away. Right now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. He expected you to recoil in horror, to pull your hand away from his like his very touch would burn you. Maybe you’d cry, or worse—maybe you’d just look at him with that quiet disappointment that always cut deeper than any insult.

But you did none of those things.

Instead, you blinked, a slow smile spreading across your face like you’d just heard the punchline of a joke. “Touya, seriously? Is that what you’ve been so worked up about?”

He frowned, clearly thrown off by your reaction. “What?”

“Babe,” you said with a soft laugh, stepping even closer to him, “I already knew.”

Now it was his turn to blink in confusion. “You… knew?”

“Of course I knew.” You grinned, tapping his chest lightly. “I’m not stupid, you know. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out. You smell like smoke, you disappear for days, and your scars… I put two and two together pretty quickly.”

His mouth opened, then closed, as he processed your words. “You… knew?” he repeated, dumbfounded.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Yes, I knew, and I didn’t care. I still don’t care.” You cupped his face gently, your fingers brushing the rough, scarred skin that covered his jaw. “I fell in love with you, Touya. The man who comes home tired but still lets me cuddle him, the man who watches stupid shows with me even though he pretends he hates them, the man who makes me feel safe no matter what.”

Dabi was silent, his throat tight as your words washed over him. He had prepared himself for anger, rejection—hell, maybe even fear—but he hadn’t prepared himself for this. For you.

“How can you love someone like me?” he rasped, his voice cracking. “I’m a monster.”

You shook your head, your eyes softening. “No, you’re not. You’re just… hurt. And yeah, you’ve done bad things, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.” Your lips curled into a small smile. “Besides, I’ve seen how you look at me. You’re not as cold as you think.”

He let out a shaky breath, leaning into your touch. For the first time in years, he felt something warm spread through his chest, something that wasn’t the familiar burn of rage or vengeance. It was something else. Something softer.

“God, you’re too good for me,” he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

You grinned, tugging him closer until your foreheads were almost touching. “I'm just good enough for you, lover, and lucky for you, I’m sticking around either way.”

His lips twitched into a small, rare smile. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, burying his face in your hair. “You’re insane,” he whispered, his breath hot against your neck. “Completely insane.”

“And you’re stuck with me now,” you teased, your voice muffled by his chest.

For a long moment, you stood like that—holding each other in the quiet comfort of the small apartment. Dabi’s heart was still racing, but it wasn’t from fear anymore. It was from something else. Something that made him want to protect you even more fiercely than before.

“You know what?” he murmured after a long silence. “I think it’s time you meet the rest of the family.”

A few days had passed since Dabi’s revelation, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that had followed, things between you and him hadn’t really changed. You still made his favorite meals, still teased him when he sulked around the apartment, and he still pretended to hate your random affection while secretly basking in it. But there was something else now—a quiet understanding that ran deeper than it had before. You knew who he was, what he had done, and you loved him anyway. And he, in his own rough-edged way, was learning how to accept that love.

Still, there was one thing he hadn’t prepared for yet—introducing you to the League of Villains.

The thought had been gnawing at him ever since that night. You had joked about being stuck with him, and in a way, you were. But to be truly part of his world, you had to meet the people he spent his days (and often his nights) with—the people who lived in the same shadows he did.

So, that evening, as you finished plating dinner, Dabi casually dropped the bomb.

“By the way,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, “you’re coming with me tomorrow.”

You glanced up from the dish you were preparing, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? Where are we going?”

“To meet the League.”

There was a moment of silence as you processed his words, and then you blinked, a slow smile spreading across your face. “The League? You mean, your League? The League of Villains?”

“Yeah, them,” he muttered, clearly not as thrilled about the prospect. His fingers drummed on the countertop, betraying his anxiety despite his nonchalant tone. “They’ve been pestering me about you for a while, so I figure it’s time they meet you.”

Your smile widened as you set the dish down, turning to face him fully. “You want to introduce me to your friends? Does this mean I’m officially your girlfriend or something?” you teased, though there was a hint of genuine excitement in your voice.

Dabi scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’ve always been my girlfriend. This just makes it… official, I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck, his usual confidence wavering slightly. “But don’t get too excited. They’re not exactly what you’d call ‘nice.’”

You chuckled, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I think I can handle it,” you said softly, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him. “Besides, if they’re important to you, then I want to meet them.”

Dabi’s gaze softened, his hands instinctively finding their way to your hips. For a moment, he simply looked at you, his heart doing that annoying thing where it felt too big for his chest. “You’re too good for this world, you know that?”

You shrugged playfully, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “I’m just good enough for you.”

The next evening, Dabi led you through the dimly lit streets of the city, the familiar scent of smoke and charred wood lingering in the air around him. He didn’t say much as you walked, though his hand never left yours, his fingers intertwined with yours in a grip that was both possessive and protective.

As you neared the League’s hideout, an abandoned bar tucked away in a forgotten part of the city, he paused, turning to face you with a serious expression. “Last chance to back out,” he said, his voice low. “Once you meet them, there’s no going back. They’re… different.”

You squeezed his hand, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’m not scared, Touya. I want to do this.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he led you inside.

The bar was just as you expected—dark, dingy, and reeking of old alcohol and stale cigarettes. The wooden floor creaked under your feet as you followed Dabi through the narrow hallway that led to a back room. The faint sound of voices echoed from behind a door at the end of the hall, and Dabi paused once more, his hand gripping the doorknob.

“They’re gonna say some weird stuff,” he warned, his voice barely a whisper. “Don’t take it personally.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Weird how?”

“You’ll see.”

With that, he pushed open the door, and the first thing that hit you was the distinct atmosphere of chaos. The room was a cluttered mess of mismatched furniture, papers, and random objects strewn about haphazardly. Several figures were gathered around a large table in the center, and as the door creaked open, all eyes turned toward you.

Toga was the first to react, her eyes lighting up with unrestrained glee. “Oh my god, Dabi! You brought her!” she squealed, bouncing to her feet and rushing toward you with the energy of a hyperactive child. “She’s so cute! I can’t believe you didn’t tell us she was this cute!”

You barely had time to react before she threw her arms around you in a surprisingly tight hug. “I’m Toga!” she chirped, pulling back to examine you with wide, curious eyes. “I’ve been dying to meet you! Dabi talks about you all the time!”

“He does?” you asked, glancing at Dabi with a teasing smirk.

He scowled, crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to her.”

Before you could say anything else, a tall man in a mask stepped forward, his posture refined, yet his eyes glimmered with amusement. “Ah, so this is the famous girlfriend,” Mr. Compress said smoothly, giving you a polite bow. “I must admit, I was beginning to wonder if you were a myth.”

Dabi rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, she’s real. Get over it.”

Shigaraki, who had been sitting at the head of the table with his usual scowl, barely glanced up from the game console he was playing with. “Great. Another normie.” His voice was dismissive, though you could sense the underlying curiosity behind his disinterested exterior. “Hope you’re not too soft.”

“Trust me,” Dabi muttered, shooting Shigaraki a look, “she can handle herself.”

“Yeah,” you added, smiling sweetly. “I’m not as soft as I look.”

Toga clapped her hands excitedly, bouncing up and down beside you. “Oh, I like her! Can we keep her?”

“Relax, Toga,” Dabi grumbled, his hand finding its way to the small of your back as he subtly pulled you closer to his side. “She’s not a pet.”

Twice, who had been unusually quiet until now, suddenly burst into laughter. “A pet? That’s hilarious! But wait, no, I think she could be a pet! Or maybe a partner! Or maybe—”

“Twice, stop rambling,” Compress interjected with a chuckle. “You’re going to overwhelm the poor girl.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the chaotic scene unfolding around you. It was clear that Dabi’s ‘family’ was as strange and dysfunctional as he had warned, but there was also something oddly endearing about them. Despite their rough exteriors, they welcomed you with open arms—or at least, most of them did.

As the banter continued, you caught Shigaraki glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his fingers twitching slightly as if he was itching to say something. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke.

“So, what’s your deal?” he asked bluntly, his voice as rough as the skin peeling from his lips. “You got a quirk or something?”

Dabi stiffened slightly beside you, but you remained calm, meeting Shigaraki’s gaze evenly. “Yeah, I do,” you said, your voice steady. “I can heal people.”

Toga’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, really? You can heal? That’s so cool! Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“It’s not as simple as it sounds,” you explained. “The healing comes from the food I make. It only works if someone eats something I’ve prepared.”

There was a brief moment of silence as everyone processed your words. Then, Twice broke the tension with a loud, exaggerated gasp. “She can cook?! Oh, we’re definitely keeping her!”

“Food that heals,” Compress mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That’s quite an unusual quirk.”

Shigaraki, however, didn’t seem as impressed. “Great. A chef,” he muttered, turning his attention back to his game. “As long as you’re not a liability.”

You felt Dabi tense beside you, his jaw clenching, but before he could snap at Shigaraki, you placed a hand on his arm, giving him a gentle squeeze. “I’m not a liability,” you said firmly, looking directly at Shigaraki. “I’m here for Dabi, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Shigaraki didn’t respond, but there was a subtle shift in the air, a silent acknowledgment that you had passed some unspoken test. Dabi’s hand tightened around your waist, pulling you closer as if to silently thank you for standing your ground.

As the evening went on, the tension eased, and you found yourself surprisingly comfortable in the midst of the League’s chaos. Toga was glued to your side, bombarding you with questions about your quirk and your relationship with Dabi. Twice kept bouncing between joking and making bizarre plans for your future involvement with the League, while Compress continued to make polite conversation, ever the gentleman.

Shigaraki, for the most part, remained focused on his game, though you caught him watching you occasionally, as if trying to figure out where you fit into their world.

And Dabi—well, he was quiet, but there was a certain calmness to him that you hadn’t seen before. He stayed close, his arm resting around your waist or his hand brushing against yours, as if grounding himself in your presence.

By the time you left the hideout, the moon high in the sky, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You had survived your first meeting with the League of Villains, and despite their quirks—both literal and figurative—you could see why Dabi had chosen them as his found family.

As you walked home hand in hand with Dabi, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, he finally broke the silence.

“So… what do you think?”

You glanced up at him, your lips curling into a soft smile. “I think they’re… different,” you said with a chuckle. “But they’re important to you, so they’re important to me.”

Dabi’s expression softened, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “You really are too good for this world.”

You shook your head, leaning into him as you continued walking. “No, I’m just good enough for you.”

For the first time in a long time, Dabi smiled—really smiled.

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, as long as you had each other, you could face anything.

[thatlotuscookie]

Hi! Could you write a BNHA Dabi x Female Reader? Something short and simple where Dabi comes home after a mission, all burnt out and exhausted, and the reader helps him unwind, taking care of his burns and just giving him a bit of comfort. I'd love to see that softer side of him! Thank you!

✧･ﾟ: a/n : thank you for the request, anon! this is totally how Dabi would act after a tough mission. It’s always satisfying to see him drop that hard exterior just a little bit when he’s around someone he trusts. hope you guys enjoy this one!

✧ Title: ✧ Worn Down ✧ ✧ Characters: Dabi x Female Reader ✧ Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Light Angst ✧ Rating: T ✧ Summary: Dabi comes home from a brutal mission, exhaustion weighing him down like never before. You try to get him to take it easy, offering the care and softness he never admits he needs. He doesn’t have to pretend with you. ✧ Content Warnings: Mentions of overexertion, exhaustion, caretaking, mild vulnerability, !soft Dabi ✧ WC: 784 words // 4307 chars

The door creaked open, and the sound of heavy, sluggish footsteps filled the quiet apartment. You looked up from the book you were reading, seeing Dabi step inside, his silhouette outlined by the dim light of the hallway.

But as he made his way into the room, you couldn’t help but notice how worn-out he looked. His usual swagger was replaced by slow, uneven movements, his shoulders slumped under the weight of exhaustion. The mission must have been brutal.

Dabi didn’t say a word as he dropped onto the couch beside you, his head falling back against the cushion, eyes closed in clear frustration. His chest rose and fell with deep, ragged breaths as if every inhale took more effort than the last.

"Dabi…" you murmured, worry threading through your voice as you reached out to gently touch his arm. His body tensed under your fingers, but he didn’t pull away, didn’t brush you off like he usually did. That alone told you how drained he really was.

"I'm fine," he grunted, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed him. It was the same line he always threw out when he didn’t want to admit he was hurting. But you knew him well enough by now to see through it.

"You don’t look fine," you said softly, sitting up straighter as you studied him. His skin was slick with sweat, and his muscles were still trembling slightly, likely from the strain of overusing his quirk. Even someone like him, with all his power, had limits.

Dabi huffed, his lips pulling into a weak, half-hearted smirk. "Overdid it, that’s all."

You frowned, your hand moving to gently rub his back. "You always overdo it."

He didn’t respond to that, just let out a long, tired exhale as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees as he buried his face in his hands. His usual cocky exterior had cracked, leaving behind the raw, vulnerable man underneath—the one who pushed himself too hard, too often, just to prove a point to a world that had already turned its back on him.

Wordlessly, you stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge. When you returned, you handed it to him, and he took it without a word, the faintest hint of gratitude flickering in his tired eyes.

"You need to take it easy sometimes," you whispered, sitting down beside him again, your hand resting on his thigh. "You can’t keep going like this."

Dabi unscrewed the cap and took a long drink, his throat working as he swallowed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just stared down at the bottle in his hand as if it held all the answers he was too stubborn to ask for.

"I’ve got things to do," he muttered after a beat, though there was no real fire in his voice. He was too tired to fight you on this.

"You’ve done enough for one night," you replied gently, your thumb brushing soothing circles on his leg. "Let me take care of you for once."

Dabi snorted, but there was no edge to it. His hand came up to rub the back of his neck, the tension in his shoulders still painfully obvious. "You’re too soft for this life," he said, though the words lacked their usual bite.

You just smiled softly, knowing it was his way of deflecting. “Maybe. But you need someone to be soft for you.”

He let out a long, frustrated sigh but didn’t protest when you shifted closer, your hand moving to his hair, gently combing through the dark strands. It was something that always seemed to calm him, though he’d never admit it.

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, your fingers trailing through his hair as he leaned back against the couch, finally letting his body relax. His breathing slowed, and for the first time that night, he looked almost peaceful—like the weight of everything he carried had finally lightened, if only for a little while.

“You’re gonna spoil me if you keep this up,” he muttered, his voice low and rough from exhaustion.

You chuckled softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his temple. “You deserve to be spoiled a little.”

For a moment, Dabi didn’t respond, but as the silence stretched between you, you noticed the way his body sagged further into the couch, his defenses crumbling just a little more. He let his head fall against your shoulder, and though he didn’t say it out loud, you could feel the unspoken gratitude in the way he leaned into your touch.

He didn’t have to pretend with you.

[gottaluvharry]

Long Day

Charles Leclerc x Female Nurse Reader

Summary: After a long shift Charles is there for you to lean on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t often that you had to work a 24 hour shift, but when you did it was rough. You hadn’t had one since you and Charles started dating, so he had no idea what to expect. When you were finally done with your gruesome 7pm-7pm shift, you were covered in interesting fluids, your feet and back ached in an unexplainable way, your head was pounding from all of the caffeine, and you just needed to fall asleep in Charles’ embrace. You texted Charles that you had only one more patient to visit and then you’d be done, and he clambered into his pista to pick you up as soon as he read it. You finish up with your final patient, mark off your last chart, clock out, and head towards the door looking like a zombie. When Charles sees you he quickly gets out of the drivers seat and runs around the car to open your door. All you want to do is hug him, but the state of your scrubs doesn’t allow you too. “Don’t hug me Char, I’ve got gross stuff all over my scrubs” you say with a sigh as you finally sit down. Charles just pouts at you and closes your door, making his way around to the drivers side. “Let’s get you home then, amour, so you can change and I can hug you” he says, leaning over to give you a kiss. You close your eyes and hum, letting yourself slump against the door when he pulls away and puts the car in drive.

The car ride is silent, and the second you get in the door your bag falls to the floor and your shoes come straight off. You groan and rub your eyes, too tired to move or do anything. “Do you want me to run you a bath chérie?” All you can do is nod as Charles grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom. He pushes you gently to sit on the toilet, and turns to fill the bath. While you wait, you try to take your shirt off but the exhaustion hits you too hard. You eyes fall shut and your limbs feel like they’re concrete. “Do you need help” Charles asks when he sees your defeat. “Yes please” you mumble, already feeling better being in his presence. “Arms up” he says as he lifts your scrub top and long sleeve up off your head at the same time. He then unclips your bra, throwing it over into the pile he’s made. He moves down to undo the string of your scrub bottoms, tapping your hip to silently tell you to lift them up a little. He pulls your bottoms and your underwear off at once, accumulating the pile of clothes yet again. He takes your sucks off last, and leads you over to the bath tub, holding onto your hand as you step in. Once you’re sitting, he takes the ponytail out of your hair and runs his nails across your scalp. You sigh at the feeling, leaning to the side that he stands on. “You’re not getting in” you ask, looking up at him with his favorite pair of big eyes. “I can if you want, amour” You nod your head and smile as he starts to remove his clothes. You scoot up a bit so that he can get in behind you, leaning back when you feel his hands on your shoulders pulling you into him. He litters kisses across your neck and shoulder, and you smile and lean farther into him. “I missed you while you were at work” he says between kisses. “You are the most hardworking person I know” he continues. “You do great things for the world, amour. I am so proud of you” he says, causing your eyes to water. You spin around and wrap your arms around his neck, leaning in for a kiss filled with as much love as you can muster up. “Thank you” you whisper as you lean your for head on his. “I love you” you say. “Je t’aime aussi” i love you too

Charles washes your hair and your body, and dries you off with a fluffy towel when you’re done. He dresses you in one of his shirts and your favorite pair of sweatpants. He leads you over into your shared bed and tucks you in on your side before he moves to put a pair of boxers on and join you in bed. The second he gets into bed you move towards him and he pulls you in, as if you’re magnetic. You breathe in the sent of him as you bury your head into the space between his head and his neck. You marvel at the feeling of being in bed with your favorite person after an extremely long 24 hours. You fall asleep to the feeling of Charles slowly raking his hand up and down your back, and the sound of him telling you he loves you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🥹🥹🥹🥹

[soulessjourney]

Let The World Burn - Chapter 1

Paring: Azriel x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.5k

Summary: You're one in a million, Azriel had never encountered someone so different from himself, someone more powerful, even rivaling Rhysand in ability. When you appeared in the Night Court one evening, covered in dirt and dried blood, something about you seemed distinctly unique. It wasn't just the fire that scorched the ground beneath you or the red hue of your eyes burning into his skin. No, it was the shadows that swarmed around you, harmonizing with his own, drawing them closer to you.

Warnings: Violence, Language, Near character death, Talk of killing, Angst, Hurt and comfort, hurt no comfort, reader is an angry strong female reader, lots of miscommuication, fluff, More to be added

A/N: Buckle up, children. This fic is the epitome of enemies-to-lovers, lovers-to-enemies, and back again. The angst is intense, and the betrayals are oh so real.

All you could smell was your burning flesh and the smoke from the area around you. Above you, the dark sky seemed to smile down in a way that almost felt mocking. Drawing in a deep breath, your chest tightened, drowning out your senses. Uncertain of how you got here or even who you were, the last thing you remembered was falling backward, yet never hitting the ground, instead, you kept falling until eventually landing on the charred grass where you now lay.

A cool sensation ran over your arms, diverting your attention from the sky. Wincing, you lifted your arm, watching as wisps of smoke-like tendrils wrapped around you, gently caressing your burnt skin. They moved around your waist and through your hair, softly singing and speaking in hushed tones that your ringing ears couldn't discern.

Enchanted by their appearance, you marveled at their gentleness as they glided over the burns on your arms and face, seemingly attempting to kiss your wounds better. You noticed how they froze over your skin before shooting out as if to defend you. Turning your head, you let out a groan, catching a flash of red and blue. Rolling onto your knees, another groan escaped as you instinctively reached to hold your injured arm, your hair falling over your face as you glimpsed three figures through the strands, standing a few feet away, their eyes widening in shock at your appearance.

The wisps continued to wrap around you, darting out at them, a protective measure for your injured form. Your eyes darted between them before settling on a male figure without siphons, his violet eyes prominent in the darkness. Unable to discern their words over the ringing in your ears, you studied each figure. You moved towards another, taller and bulkier, his shoulder-length hair tied in a half ponytail. Despite his intimidating appearance, his eyes exuded a gentle kindness you had never witnessed before.

Finally, your gaze locked with hazel eyes, observing the third male figure. He stood before you, arms crossed, his face devoid of emotion, yet his shadows danced in synchronization with your own, almost as if communicating. The wisps whispered to you, though your mind remained blank as you studied him. Something within you stirred in recognition, yet fear caused your body to curl in on itself. Your vision obscured as the male with violet eyes knelt before you, extending his hand. Your gaze shifted upward, finally able to hear his voice.

"I'm not sure what happened to you, and usually, we wouldn't welcome trespassers like this, but your wounds are too serious to take you where we normally would," he said gently, causing your eyes to harden. Holding up his hands, he offered a reassuring smile. "What's your name?" he asked, watching you quietly.

You opened your mouth to respond, only for your mind to draw a blank. "I'm not sure," you replied, wincing at the raspiness of your voice, hating how weak it sounded. Yet, it didn't deter him from extending his hand once more. You stared at it, and he chuckled softly.

"If it eases your nerves, I'm Rhysand, and behind me are Cassian and Azriel. Now that we aren't strangers, why don't you come back with us? We can provide treatment and aid until you regain your memory or at least understand how you got here," he suggested gently. Your eyes flickered over his shoulder, meeting the hazel eyes again before Rhysand spoke up once more. "Please? My wife would kill me if she found out I left an injured female in the middle of the woods." You scrutinized him, attempting to catch him in a lie, but found none. Nodding gently, you placed your hand in his, feeling the cool tendrils wrap around you as the environment blurred and darkened.

---Azriel---

Azriel stood outside the room, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the floor. As the door opened and Cassian and Rhysand stepped out, he pushed away from the wall, raising a brow. "Mind explaining why you decided to make friends with some random person who tried burning down the forest?" he asked.

Rhysand sighed, glancing back at the closed door. "I tried probing her mind, Az. It's locked tight, and no amount of training could penetrate it, not with all the power it exerted to resist me. You saw those shadows that clung to her. Azriel, she's another shadow singer, and as far as I know, you're the only one alive with that ability," he explained in a hushed tone.

Azriel nodded, images of you flashing in his mind. He remembered the severity of your burns and the intensity of your gaze fixed on him, your eyes seeming to burn with actual fire. He had forgotten about the shadows that reached out to them, mirroring his own. "What do we do with her once she's better?" he inquired, turning his gaze toward the closed door. "We can't just let her go, especially now that she's seen the city."

Rhysand hummed in thought, but before he could respond, Cassian cleared his throat. "We can't release her back into the woods like some stray. She has no memory of who she is. But we're not imprisoning her either. We need to help her remember how she got here, and why there's no record of another shadow singer. I can keep an eye on her and make her feel welcome. If she feels like a prisoner, she won't cooperate," Cassian suggested, turning to Azriel. "You should do the same. Get to know her. Her reaction to seeing you indicates her body remembers you, so that could be crucial."

Azriel groaned before reluctantly agreeing with his brother. "Fine, I'll give it a shot. I have my own questions, especially about those shadows. But if she tries anything, don't expect me to be friendly. Her entrance wasn't exactly subtle, burning down half the forest," he remarked, casting a warning glance at Rhysand.

Rhysand nodded, knowing better than to argue with Azriel in situations like this. He couldn't help but notice Azriel's sudden interest in you, though. Clapping a hand on Cassian's shoulder, he nodded to Azriel before walking away.

Azriel watched them depart down the hall before turning back to the door. Opening it, his eyes widened as a pillow was flung at him, narrowly missing him and hitting the wall. Giving you a glare, he noted how you met his stare with equal intensity.

---Y/N---

You stare back at Azriel as he takes another step towards you, your hand instinctively reaching back to grab the pillow next to you. Your eyes follow every movement he makes, searching for any sign that his intentions aren’t friendly.

"Throwing a pillow at me won’t do much," he says, raising a brow at you.

Scoffing, you turn your head away from him. "No, but it would distract you long enough to give me a head start," you mumble. The shadows that wrap themselves around you slide away, halting just before Azriel. Your eyes watch them as they wait for his own to greet them.

"It’s funny, you would think they know each other. In the forest, it was like they were communicating with each other," you say softly.

Azriel hums in response as he settles into the chair next to your bed. "What do you know about your shadows? You must know something; the way they interact with you is a telling sign that you’ve had them your entire life," he says, leaning back into the chair. He watches your body language, waiting for a telling sign that you're lying, but there is nothing. Instead, he receives a shrug from you.

"I’m not sure. When I woke up, in agonizing pain, might I add, they were there. They were all over me, and it was as if they were trying to cool the burns. Other than that, they’re a complete mystery to me. They don’t even really say much besides that I’m safe," you explain, leaning back against the headboard. "Why are you guys helping me? I know it’s not because I was half dead in the middle of the woods," you mumble, playing with the blanket on your lap.

Azriel leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he narrows his eyes at you. "Rhysand says he wants to find out how you’re a shadow singer; from what we knew, I was the only one. Cassian refuses to just release you into the wild again, and he wants to help you, which is typical given that’s just how he is. Meanwhile, me? I don’t trust you. You may not remember what about me you know, but your body does, and every time I’m near you, you have the natural reaction to pull away from me," he says. To prove his point, he shifts to sit on the bed, and your body tenses as you instinctively move away. "I’ll find out what you know about me. Rhysand may not be able to tell, but I know how to get the information I need, and you’re no exception," he grumbles.

You open your mouth to retort, but he stands and walks towards the door before freezing. "If you’re pretending, drop the act; it’ll make killing you in the future that much easier," he says, his eyes piercing into you. With that, he leaves the room, leaving you to your own thoughts.

[blackdollette]

Hope you’re having a good morning/night! I was wondering if you could do something where maybe the reader and Charlie are on vacation with readers family and have to sleep in separate beds, but reader has a nightmare in the middle of the night and goes and gets in bed with him? The nightmare could be about ghostface or just any random thing, i’m not picky! And it can be smutty if you want, it’s totally up to you. thanks so much!! I hope spring break is treating you well <3

"held me in your arms just a little too tight." | charlie walker

white mustang. - lana del rey

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn@si1nful-symph0ny @mayathepsychic1999 @@romanroyapoligist @livingdead-materialgirl @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @kashmirclam @icarus-star @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss

female!reader x charlie

word count: 931

contents: smutty references, blood, murder, gore, violence, fluffy stuff at the end

charlie listened to the sweet sound of you humming in the shower, washing off the many sweaty hours of travel in his cramped van. perched on the edge of his bed, he taps his foot along to the beat of the music playing on his walkman, glancing at the clock between your two beds. unbeknownst to you, he had had to pull a few strings to be able to share a room with you but as it came down to this, it was all worth it. clad in plaid boxer shorts, dull white socks and a ghostface shirt that he had worn too many times, he looks at the open suitcase resting on your bed, analyzing each of your possessions.

you had the essentials: soap, a few bottles of lotion, and a couple of conspicuous tampons that failed to be hidden. his eyes shot over to the golden light underneath the door, taking the hint that you wouldn’t be done in the shower anytime soon.

he clicked pause on his music, rising up from his bed and taking slow steps toward your territory. he ran his hand along the soft blanket, sitting down right beside the suitcase. charlie was fully aware that he was a creep, but he was helpless to stopping himself when paradise was just a step away.

his hand rummaged through your belongings, taking in everything from your little trinkets to accessories. he savoured these items until he got to the bottom, where you kept your clothing. his gaze landed on a pair of silky pajama shorts that you had been wearing just a week ago. he brought his nose close to the fabric, exhaling deeply as he put them down. underneath a few more shirts and pants, he reached your underwear. 

he picked up a pair of your panties, salivating at the feeling of the soft material in his grip. he felt a sizzle directly in his core, biting his lip as he pressed your underwear to his boxers. he slipped his thumbs underneath the waistband of his shorts, trailing his hand lower and lower…

his provocative motions were interrupted by the shower coming to a halt. he jumped, frantically scurrying back to his own bed and laying down, trying his hardest not to look suspicious as you came out of the bathroom wrapped in a damp towel. he looked at you through his peripherals, swallowing hard as you carried your suitcase back into the bathroom to get dressed.

as you shut the door to the bathroom, he let out a relieved breath, opening his palm to reveal the panties that were still in his possession. maybe you wouldn’t notice, he thought to himself even though he didn’t believe it. several minutes passed and he could sense your confusion through the door. you emerged from the bathroom once again, wearing the silky pajamas that had previously been in his grasp.

“char, have you seen any of my clothes by chance?” he gulped, his palms becoming clammy as he took in the sight of your perfect thighs walking toward him. he shook his head. “nope, haven’t seen anything.” you huffed, nodding slightly. “weird…” charlie’s mind heated up as he realized that you couldn’t have been wearing any underwear.

you crawled underneath the covers of your bed, wrapping yourself up with the blanket and closing your eyes. “g’night, charlie…” he nodded. “yeah, goodnight…” he muttered, watching as you slowly drifted off to sleep.

enrobed in a blanket of slumber, a bloody image filled your unconscious mind. flickers of a sinister blade and a dark phantom haunted your soul. a hand grabbed your throat, pressing the knife to your flesh to ensure that no one could hear you scream. gore and blood-filled screams echoed through your head, the jagged blade digging through your body until it reached your bones.

your heart pounded in your chest, begging to be let free as beads of sweat poured down your neck. you screamed out, the noise blood-curdling as charlie jumped, completely startled. you frantically sat up, panting heavily as your eyes darted across the room. there was no blood, no murderer, and the only bodily fluid leaking out of you was sweat and tears.

charlie sprung out of his bed, quickly coming to your side and placing a hand on your shoulder. “woah, are you alright? what happened?” you wiped a bead of sweat on your forehead, looking up at him and feeling comforted by his familiar face. “just a nightmare…” he chuckled a little, tucking a lock of his hair back into his ponytail. “must’ve been a pretty bad one. i don’t think i’ve ever heard you scream like that.”

you shot him an unamused expression and he reeled back. “guess i’ll leave you alone.” you clung to his arm, refusing to let him go. he smiled a little. “y-you want me to stay..?” you met his soft, blue eyes. “y-yeah, if you don’t mind…” you manage to muster a shy little smile. he grins from ear to ear, slithering into bed next to you and keeping an arm around you.

you inhaled a large breath of air, feeling his chest pressing into your back. you moved against him a little to get comfy, but only earned a strained groan from him in response. you turned your head back to look at him. “you doin’ okay back there?” you couldn’t see him in the dark, so nothing was stopping him from grinning like an idiot as he pressed up against you, fulfilling all his deepest fantasies in this moment.

“yup, i’m living the dream.”

author's note: i've got another charlie request coming out very soon!

[chrisevansonly]

𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨’𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥? | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

✯social media au

✯lando norris x female reader

✯you love your bf, so much so that everyone knows you as lando’s girl or are you….

✯not requested, i wanted to get something out today though, im not really feeling like myself and really struggling w my mental health again, so bare with me while i try and get things going again, i’m sorry i’m advance<3

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, vogue, alexandrasaintmleux and 674,000 others

lando won’t pick up my call so i did a photoshoot instead 😁

see 65,000 comments

username she is everything to me

username y/n looking stunning as USUAL

alexandrasaintmleux the most beautiful😍

>y/ninstagram can’t wait to see you this weekend gorgeous ❤️

landonorris I LITERALLY ANSWERED WDYM😭

landonorris i’ll stop answering more calls so i get new pics of you though 🤤

>y/ninstagram pls don’t i miss you too much🥹

liked by landonorris

danielricciardo he literally paused our game to answer your call, i hope you’re happy

>y/ninstagram oh extremely 😁

username how norizz bagged her? i’ll never understand

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, y/ninstagram, wagsoff1 and 789,000 others

fyi i did answer her call and now we’re out on our weekly date, stop harassing me on twitter 😑

tagged y/ninstagram

see 78,000 comments

username 💀💀💀

username his ass got blasted on twt it was so funny

y/ninstagram i love you lan!!!!! 🥰

y/ninstagram not sorry for my loyal fans holding you accountable 😁

>landonorris you’re so lucky i love you 😃😃

username HAHAHAHA

maxfewtrell way to girlboss y/n

>y/ninstagram why thank you max 😌

username please these comments r gonna get wild😭

y/ninstagram

liked by mclaren, landonorris, lilyhme and 876,000 others

it’s dutch gp weekend and i’m just here to wish my very animated and emotional boyfriend good luck. i love that i never know what version of you i’m getting going into a new day, can’t decide which is my favourite but grumpy lando (slide 1) and romeo lando (slide 2) might just be the top 2 favourites, good luck baby!😘

tagged landonorris

see 89,000 comments

username WHY IS THIS SENDING ME

username romeo lando😭

username lando cannot catch a break

landonorris hmm don’t know how i feel abt this caption…

landonorris i love you though, thank u for being my good luck charm🩷

>y/ninstagram i love you more!!!

maxfewtrell personally i like lando when he has 0 going on in his brain 😁

>danielricciardo so 24/7 lando?

>landonorris OKAY THATS ENOUGH

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris added to their story!

*comments disabled*

y/ninstagram

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 997,000 others

when our boys are away, the girls come out to play ❤️‍🔥

tagged alexandrasaintmleux

see 101,000 comments

username okay but these two together?!

username charles and lando better keep one eye open

charles_leclerc okay but can you come back now? i’d like to hang out with my gf :)

>alexandrasaintmleux we are a packaged deal char

>landonorris hmm i don’t think so

>y/ninstagram yes we are😁

username QUEENS

alexandrasaintmleux my girl😘

>y/ninstagram 🩷����

username idk if i wanna be y/n, alex, charles or lando😵‍💫

y/ninstagram added to their story!

*comments disabled*

landonorris

liked by y/ninstagram, danielricciardo, quadrant and 889,000 others

just so we’re clear, she’s mine😁

tagged y/ninstagram

see 99,000 comments

username lmfao lando doesn’t wanna share w alexandra🤣

username pls we all know she’s yours 💀

alexandrasaintmleux i feel like i’m being attacked???

>y/ninstagram i wouldn’t let that happen baby🫡

danielricciardo TRUST ME MATE WE KNOW

>landonorris good, don’t get it twisted 😁

y/ninstagram i’m all yours baby 😘

>y/ninstagram except when alex calls🥰

>landonorris EXCUSE ME!!!!

username so lando’s girl or alex’s girl….?🤔

y/ninstagram

liked by landonorris, cosmopolitan, wagsoff1 and 1M others

lando’s girl.❤️

tagged landonorris

see 104,000 comments

username oh i’m crying now

username HOT TAMALE

username my favs

landonorris my girl❤️❤️❤️

>y/ninstagram forever and always baby🥰

alexandrasaintmleux it’s okay, i know who’s girl you are behind closed doors

>y/ninstagram 😉😉😉

>charles_leclerc 😦

>landonorris😧

username HAHAHAH CHARLES AND LANDO😭

mclaren ahh now this is the entertainment we asked for🤣

liked by landonorris and y/ninstagram

alexandrasaintmleux added to their story!

landonorris THIS ISNT OVER!!!

>alexandrasaintmleux YES IT IS!

charles_leclerc mon dieu

>alexandrasaintmleux je t’aime tellement charlie😘

y/ninstagram love you baby!!!❤️‍🔥

>alexandrasaintmleux love you more babe❤️‍🔥

[queenpiranhadon]

A/N: AHHH ONE MORE CHAPTER LEFT ARE YOU CRYING YET?? IK I AM 😭😭 Thank you @cashmoneyyysstuff for supporting me throughout everything. Here’s the masterlist!!!

Warning(s): Cursing, reader is the daughter of Aizawa, Shinso and Eri are biological siblings, reader is 20 years old, Reader uses "Cattus" as her alias, reader's nicknames are Cactus, Cattus and Cat, war, reader gets hurt and burned alive (a lot), reader runs away again, Kirishima’s just the best, character death, gore and blood, bad war descriptions lol what do you expect from me, reader is AFAB and female, ANGST, someone breaks into reader's house, Eri sleeps with reader bc she's traumatized, PTSD, mentions of burns

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ: Retreat

When you wake up, you’re in Chiyo’s home - in the same bed you found your father in all those months ago. 

Your head feels like cotton, even blinking makes the world around you dizzying. Everything hurts, so much you feel nothing, pain so intense it’s numb. 

The last thing you remember was being burned alive. You mentally laugh at your predicament, feeling so out of it that you couldn’t bring yourself to physically do so. Why couldn’t you die?

Immediately, everything rushes back to you, but yet the answers brought forth bring too many questions for you to process. 

Was your family okay? Where’s Ejiro? Seriously, how are you not dead?

Just then, the door opens revealing your family rushing to your side, each with looks of either worry or relief on their faces. You smile weakly, but it lacks warmth. You’re too exhausted to show any form of genuinity. 

Eri takes your hand, sniffling softly, your heart breaking as you can do nothing but watch as your younger sister cries, in too much pain to really do anything. Hitoshi and your father stand there in silence comforting the young girl. 

Entering right behind them is Ejiro, who bursts in, with tears streaming down his face. 

“Cactus, you idiot.” he scolds, but you know he doesn’t mean it, choking on his own tears, enveloping you in his arms. You don’t realize you were crying until the rough pads of his fingers swipe across your face, callused skin felt scarily soft in comparison to your own charred flesh. 

“I missed you, Y/N.” he says, you want to respond, but your vocal chords were too damaged to create any noise. Your heart throbs, and more tears slip from your eyes. You were so glad Ejiro’s okay, but damn your head hurts, your body hurts, your heart hurts, it hurts to function at this point. 

Chiyo enters the room, shooing Ejiro and your family out, insisting that you need rest. You made a mental note to thank her later. You loved your family and Ejiro, but right now, you just wanted space to process everything. 

When they leave, you cry. Your life… it was gone, with these darn burns that covered your body, muscles weak and unusable- would you never be able to walk, run, fight anymore? The thought only makes you cry harder, heart aching from everything that’s happened, wishing that maybe, just maybe in another life, you could be happy. 

Maybe Bakugou would like you, maybe you never went to war and you could’ve happily with your father and siblings - you could’ve been Maid of Honor at Ochako and Izuku’s wedding, or judgmentally sit on the couch with your father and brother as Eri brings home her first boyfriend. 

You just wanted a chance to enjoy the mundane things in live, realizing with a sinking heart that you would never be able to - the chance gone before it was even presented to you.

Sleep overtook you soon enough, thanks to the sedatives Chiyo gave you, and you drifted off, finding solace in your subconscious. 

Why me?

***

It’s the dead of night when you wake again, with a pounding headache- a noise from somewhere in the room startling you awake. 

In the moonlight, you see two carmine eyes staring back at you. Immediately you think of Bakugou, body tensing up before you catch a glimpse of silver hair, realizing it’s your younger sister. 

She steps up to you, tears forming in her eyes again as she takes in your state, your skin black and pink at the same time- even a small gust on wind is enough to make you wince. 

“Hey Cattus.” she whispers, the old nickname turned new name startles you- given how much work you had put in to forget the name entirely, along with the memories that went with it. 

Eri gingerly brings her hand up to stroke your forehead, more tears slipping from her eyes. “I’m scared, Y/N. It’s just so terrifying seeing you like this, you always work so hard for us, I…hate that I never realized I took you for granted.”

Your eyes widened by a fraction, wishing you could talk and console her, telling her none of that was true, and that you owed it to her as her older sister - but you remained infuriatingly silent, frustrated by your lack of ability to do anything. 

Eri wipes her tears hastily and lets out a watery laugh. “Look at the irony- I’m taking care of you this time.” she takes your hand. “I’ve been working on something…before you woke up, I went to the markets and I found this mage…I got this vial from her. Well technically, I got two, but I wanted to make sure it worked before I gave it to you but anyways-”

Your sister cuts herself off, and looks at you, holding your gaze with determination. “While you were gone for those seven months, your garden died out, but I poured one of the vials over the roots- It grew back Y/N! Overnight! The only problem is they returned to their normal state after around two weeks, which was the night before you woke up. But the mage will be in town all month, so I can stock up and you can keep taking it until your body takes over naturally! I think… I think it’ll work.”

Your stare at her in disbelief. You were out for two weeks?! You couldn't believe it. You want to cry, you want to sing, you want to hug her, but you can’t. 

“I’ll make you better Y/N, I promise. It’s the least I can do.”

Eri gives you the vial that night, tilting your head back and tipping the concoction into your mouth, the liquid tasting strangely sour, but bitter as well. 

As soon as you swallow, you start to feel drowsy, falling asleep as Eri strokes your hair soothingly. 

***

When you wake up, your burns are gone. The hair that has been burnt off has grown to its normal length, and it doesn’t hurt to swallow anymore. 

Eri’s there by your side, curled up against you, asleep. 

“Morning ‘nana” you croak, tucking a strand of her hand behind her ear, unable to keep the smile out of your voice. It…worked?!

Eri’s red eyes blink open sleepily, disoriented before she realizes that you were speaking. 

“Y/N! It worked, oh thank the gods…” she whispers, holding you tight. 

You wrap your arms around her, and stare at the ceiling. The gods had given you another chance, even if only for a little over a week - but why? 

***

You spent the next few days relearning everything- from how to eat, walk, and eventually fight. Everything you knew was muscle memory, but with new muscles itself, you needed to adjust. 

Thankfully, Ejiro was there. That morning, after Eri left, your red headed friend had come in to stop by, already informed of the vial- and you explained everything. To say he was shocked was an understatement. 

After he got over it though, he did tease you the slightest bit about your crush, but left it alone for the most part, knowing that physical ailment and heartbreak were both terrible by themselves, but together they were terrible to deal with. According to him, the man named Dabi had escaped, but he and his men had fled after you had passed out- seeing Ejiro, Tenko, and the rest of his troop return, with the orders to protect the village after intercepting a message that was coincidentally meant for the troop that you had fought all the way back in the Chira Forest. Just the thought makes you think about Katsuki. 

First, he helped you walk, guiding you slowly around the room until you finally got the hang of it, laughing and jumping, and crying all at once as you slowly regained your life back. You’d never been more grateful for your best friend, helping you as he always had after your mother died, always being your rock. 

For once, you had hope. 

Slowly, you moved on from the mashed fruits and liquids, making your way to solid foods, starting with bread, to vegetables, and eventually you got used to using your jaws again too. It was funny you thought, getting so emotional over a loaf of bread, but the feeling of digesting solid food was so…liberating? At this point, you’d been healing your broken body for 9 days, feeling more like yourself each second. By the fifth day, Chiyo had decided to let you return home, the contents of the vial speeding up your recovery fairly quickly. 

And so, you started to train again. 

You found some more of the bladed stars your father had given you in your room, deciding that you should refresh on your aim. 

It didn’t go as you planned. You ended up impaling it in a nearby tree, one managed to get stuck on your roof, and another almost ended up killing your brother when he came outside to bring you a glass of water. 

But you couldn’t stop. 

By some miracle, your skills slowly improved throughout the day, your body remembering what to do- from stance to the smallest tensions your muscles needed to create.

It was sunset now, and you dropped your sword, falling into the soft grass below you and soaking in the coolness it provided, allowing yourself to let your body rest, sinking into the ground. 

But you couldn’t shake off the feeling that there was something you needed to do, something that you were missing. 

***

You invite Kirishima, Ochako, and Izuku over for dinner that night, and it’s almost like you’re taken back in time, to the night before your life changed. 

Your two childhood friends greet you with crushing hugs, a tearful reunion as they fret over you, checking for injuries. 

Ushering them all to the table, Hitoshi serves the food, bowls of salads, assorted fruits, and a plate of chicken - Kirishima’s favorite. 

You can’t bring yourself to eat though, picking at your food with a fork, and deciding that there was no point in sitting at the table and not doing anything. 

Excusing yourself from the table, you stand up and place a bowl over your food- intending to eat later. 

“I’m going to go over to Chiyo’s and ask for some pain medication.” you lie, smiling as you leave the dining room, a chorus of “Bye!”s heard from the table. Putting your boots on, you leave your home, sighing as fresh air fills your lungs. 

What’s wrong with me?! You think, as you walk down the cobbled stone path that leads to the center of town. You should be happy, you have your life back- what was happening? Why wasn’t everything back to normal- why couldn’t you go back to being who you were?!

When you reach the town square, you see a small boy huddle next to his sister, both most likely around Eri’s age, with tears streaming down both of their cheeks. Your older sister instincts kick in, and you rush to their side immediately. Their names come back to you, remembering how Chiyo used to babysit them, eventually ended up living with the Midoriyas after their father left to go work for King Nezu in the capital. 

“Katsuma, Mahero, is everything alright? Where’s In- Mrs. Midoriya?” you asked worriedly - before noticing the paper in their hands.

“Papa…he’s going to go fight the bad guys in the capital because all the troops are being sent there…but Papa can’t fight!” Mahero trembles, the worry evident in her voice. 

“I’m scared…” is all Katsuma says, barely a whisper.

Bad guys…in the capital?! How did Inimicus manage to infiltrate Vitoris?! Anxiety gnaws at you from the inside, but you push it down, knowing that your own worry would only agitate the children more. 

“I promise everything will be alright. Our army is strong- and your papa will come home safe. Now, let’s go find Inko.”

***

After returning the kids back to their parents, you finally assess the situation. Bakugou, Denki, Hanta, Genken, hell- even Fern Bat, they’d all be in the capital soon - with no way to know what they’re getting into. Dabi…he’d burn everything to ashes. You feel sick to your stomach at the thought. Your friends…dead? Bakugou may have broken your heart, sure - but you didn’t hate him enough to wish death upon him. 

Shit.

You knew what you had to do.

***

You really hated lying to your family - considering the first time you left without warning it didn’t end so well. 

How ironic is it, that for the second time in a row the night after having dinner with your friends and family, you decide to run to fight for your kingdom?

You get back home late that night, packing a small bag with a week’s worth of food - bread and some dried meat - slipping into your brother’s clothes and putting your hair into the same knot you did when you first left- the experience felt almost like a hallucination, as if you were sent back in time, relieving such a pivotal moment of your life. Except this time, you were prepared. You knew what you were getting yourself into. You had your sword, and your stars, and you knew what was coming.

It felt unreal- all the progress you made, finally coming home, getting your life back, only to go back to square one. 

You sighed. This better work.

***

Sneaking out of the house, you make your way down the cobbled path again, heading to the fields where you knew the horse you had rode here on all those months ago would be - having seen the steed galavanting around happily. You felt guilty, taking it away from its new home so soon, but you had to go, soon. 

However, you couldn’t find him, his distinctive white coat should’ve been a stark contrast to the darkness of the night, and yet he was nowhere to be seen.

In the midst of your anxious searching, you don’t realize the figure approaching you. 

“Where are you going?” 

You might as well have been scared shitless, hand on your sword- whirling around to meet a troubled pair of red eyes. 

“E-Ejiro…” you ask in disbelief. “How…”

“Y/N, you’re not that discreet.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “You’re going to the capital, aren’t you?”

He phrased it like a statement, not a question. Were you really that easy to read? Or was it just because he knew you so well?

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, staring downwards. “Ejiro, I have to do this- they’re not going to stand a chance! You know what Dabi’s capable of, the whole future of Bellorant is in danger here!”

“Well what about you?!” Ejiro snaps, his voice low in order to not wake up the entire village, but it was deafening all the same. “What about your life, about your safety?! You were burned alive, Y/N- you’ve almost died, twice! You’ve only had a week to recover, you need rest!” 

You can only stare at him blankly, feeling your heart snap in two. “I need to do this, Ejiro. What’s the point of staying safe if this will eat away at me for the rest of my life?! I can’t do nothing- yes I’ve almost died twice, but I’m still alive right? That has to mean something.”

Ejiro sighs, and you can see the conflict in his eyes. Running his hand through his hair again he looks at you with a sad smile. “I can’t stop you, can I?”

You shake your head, returning your gaze to the ground. 

“Then I’m coming with you.”

Your head snaps up at that, opening your mouth to retaliate, but Ejiro beats you to it.

“You’re not the only one who's had to fight before. So if I can’t stop you, at least let me protect you.”

You feel the tears build up in your throat as you wrap your arms around your best friend, hoping the action is enough to convey your gratitude. You’d both come home safe, you promised to yourself, for Ejiro’s sake.

***

Due to last minute changes, you ended up buying some more food at the next village, letting your horse rest before continuing on your journey to the capital, using the map Bakugou had gave you when you made your way home seven months ago. 

“Hey…are you scared?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence that settled between the two of you.

Ejiro looks at you, weighing his words before sighing. “Yeah.” he admits “I don’ t think I’ll ever not be.”

You appreciate his honesty, and yet - you can’t help but feel the knot in your stomach twist with uncertainty, subconsciously rubbing your index finger against your thumb.

Retreat. 

***

It’s been five days now, the sun sinking below the horizon as you approach the gates of Vitoris, dismounting your horse (that Ejiro now has affectionately named Samantha, even though your horse was a male) and setting him free, Ejiro following suit as you realize with a sinking heart that the gates are demolished, charred holes burnt through the once durable metal and the gated entrance blown wide open.

Shit.

Running past the gates, you see masses of soldiers, Inimicans and Bellorans alike. It’s a massacre, you see familiar faces from your own troop dead- and it’s horrifying. 

Drawing your sword, and Ejiro doing the same, you charge, fending off the black clad soldiers as best you can.

You try to formulate a plan, attempt to find out the easiest way to figure out how to end this quickly, but your mind is filled with thrust, parry, dodge, and so on, your mind trying to keep up with your body. Striking the last of them down, you spot a flash of bright yellow hair in your periphery. 

Denki! He was alone, fending off at least five men, and was bleeding from his torso. Shit!

You bolt for the blonde, leaving poor Ejiro to catch up with you, catching the five Inimicans by surprise as you slash at his back. 

One down. 

Four to go. You and Ejiro each take on one, while Denki takes on another, a deadly dance and a challenge too. Luckily, you knew this dance. 

You bring the butt of your sword crashing down onto the top of your opponent’s head - the impact strong enough to cause him to stumble back, giving you the opportunity to kick him in the chest, sending him flat on his back. He’s unconscious, the impact of the stoned pathways knocking him out. 

Wait. There were four soldiers you had to fight. Not three. 

Whirling around, you realize with a pounding heart that it’s too late - watching just as the fourth soldier impales Denki in the abdomen from behind. 

“DENKI!”

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