#honestly would love to see the blonde daddy kill some people too but he's too supporting character //sad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkdevasofdestruction · 4 years ago

Text

Can You Get Enough Of Me? - Michael Myers x Reader

"It's a nice day today, huh?" Y/N smiled up at the sky as she went back and forth in the swing. "Will you push me, Mickey?" "Sure." he shrugged as he got off his own swing and went behind her, pushing her the best he could. "Look, Mickey, I'm flying! Whooooo!" the little girl giggled without a care in the world, as Michael watched her long, beautiful hair going everywhere. "Okay, okay, I wanna swing too!" but before the girl could take her time and stop swinging, a bunch of older boys came by and roughly grabbed the chains holding the swing, which in turn, made the girl fall off and get hurt. "Y/N!" Michael gasped as he ran to her side, helping her up, and seeing the blood seeping from one of her legs and arm. "Aww, Myers's got a giiirlfriend! Look at them, gonna fuck? Girl, don'tcha know, Myers's a faggot?" the gang hollered maliciously, and Y/N could only frown, despite the tears of pain from her injuries, and clinging on Michael for support, she got up and yelled at the boys. "Leave Michael alone, jerks! You're rude!" but instead of trying to fight them off, or go in a brawl, she grabbed her friend's arm and dragged him away from there, knowing that if he were to get in trouble again, he'd get some bad detention, and that's the last thing she'd want. Besides...Two kids couldn't possibly fight those guys. "Why didn't you let me fight them?! I could've taken them on!" the blond boy glared at his friend, who only rolled her eyes and sighed at his childishness. "No, you couldn't. Besides, if the teachers find out you got in trouble again, who knows what will happen? Come on, let's go to the fountain, I have to wipe off the blood." Y/N muttered, going on ahead to sit on the rocks by the fountain and took out her handkerchief from her little bag, dipping it in the water and carefully wiping away the red liquid streaming down her limbs, hissing from the pain here and there, but otherwise, staying completely silent. "I'm sorry..." the girl suddenly heard the blond boy mutter, barely audible. "Huh? What do you have to be sorry about, Mickey?" as her eyes widened from the shock, she leaned forward, raising his chin up with her finger. "...I couldn't protect you. I suck. I'm as bad as that fuckass says I am..." he sighed, gently pulling away her hand and looking away from her. "Look at what they did to you. Could've been much worse. And yet, you stood up for me, while I did nothing. I'm a horrible friend." his voice was pitiful, and it was obvious he hated his lack of strength. "First of all, you aren't just my friend. You're my BEST friend. Okay? And nothing in this world will change that. Got it? Okay. Second of all, we're still little and weak. That's how kids are. Trying to fight those guys is like trying to fight the forces of nature...You...You can't fight a hurricane, you know? And...Violence isn't the answer. I mean...Look at our parents. There's nothing good coming out of that...But someday! Someday we'll get older and stronger, and nobody will bully us anymore! It just...It takes a while...I guess." she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, trying to comfort him. "That's shit! They'll see, they'll ALL pay for it! Nobody will dare be fuckers with us anymore! And when I grow up, I will make sure everyone is nice to you." he was so revolted, but his anger gradually dissipated as he felt her warmth. "Please don't speak like that. Calm down, Mickey. Things are okay now. At least we have each other, and we will always have each other, don't forget that, okay?" she leaned her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes for a while, only to hear an aggressive male voice booming through the park which made the girl yelp and tremble in fear. "GET AWAY FROM THAT FREAK, Y/N! GET HERE RIGHT NOW!" her father yelled at her and she could only whimper silently, trying to stop herself from hyperventilating. "B-But daddy, Michael is not bad...! H-He tried to protect me from those mean boys from the playground!" she spoke meekly, slowly walking in front of her father, her head hung in fear, only for the man to burry his hand in

her hair, pulling on it roughly, making the girl yelp in pain. "Don't talk back to me, you stupid little bitch! You have no right to go against what I say while you're under MY roof, got it? Home, now." Michael couldn't even retaliate in any way, knowing that if he were to cause trouble for her, she would get in even more trouble, and that's the last thing he'd want...But why did it have to be her...?

He can take it, alright...But her...That's just not acceptable. She is small, and weak, and frail, and innocent...And there is nobody who can protect her.

Nobody but him...

----

"Michael, Michael, are we going trick or treating today?" Y/N asked, skipping around him in her cutesy witch costume, while he was a boring clown. "I guess." he shrugged, pulling down his clown mask. "Come on, it's Halloween, Mickey! You love Halloween! It's your favourite holiday! And we get free candy! It's gonna be fuuun~!" she bumped him with her body, making him stumble a bit, before looking at her and groaning. "Fine, fine, we're going. I just have to tell my mum." he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his house, but on the way, she stopped him. "Hey, how about we trick or treat all the houses on the way to yours? I mean, there's nothing bad in that, right? We're just going home! It's not even considered a detour!" Y/N grinned widely, her beautiful eyes sparkling with excitement. "...Okay, let's do that." as he said that, Michael took out his candy bag from his schoolbag and taking her hand, they went to all house from both sides of the street. "Trick or Treat!" they both exclaimed as the first grandma opened the door with a loving look on her face. "Ahh, my, my, how cute you two are! And what do we have here...A very adorable, magical witch! And...A funny clown! How lovely!" the woman clapped her hands together to her chest, admiring the two kids. "Ma'am, he's not just a clown, he is my jester! Isn't he so cute?" she threw her arms around his neck, slamming his face to hers as she grinned even wider, making the woman laugh at them. "Yees, yes, I understand! Here, darlings, you're so adorable, take all of these. Hope to see you two, cuties, next year as well! Have fun!" the grandma patted both their heads before going back to her home. "Wiiicked! Look how much candy we've got! My fave holiday is Christmas, but honestly, Halloween is a very close runner up! Our teeth will literally rot after this!" the girl giggled as she inspected each variety of candy in her bag, "I love it 'cause I can spare people." Michael shrugged simply, but he also munched on some candy corn. "Would you scare me, Mickey?" Y/N turned her face to his, her eyes widening with a glimmering, innocent curiosity. "...No. I wouldn't. But you're the only one, okay?! Everyone else, I'd scare!" he tried to sound scary and dangerous, but it only made the little girl giggle and kiss his cheek. "You're my hero! My handsome knight in shining armour, Mickey! Thank you for protecting me. You're the best." help his soul, he wasn't used to people saying good things about him... "...But I'm ugly...That's why I wear a mask so often..." he muttered, looking down at the ground. "No! That's so not true! You're very pretty, okay? I love your face! And you have the most gorgeous eyes in the world! And...And...And your hair is so lovely, I'm jealous! Please don't say bad things about yourself, Mickey, it makes me very upset." she pouted, hugging him tightly, and it was pretty clear neither of them wanted to let go. "You won't leave me, would you, Y/N?" Michael's low voice came out barely above a whisper, but it was the only time he ever allowed himself to show any kind of weakness or vulnerability. "Never. Some day, we will be together forever, okay?" she ruffled his hair playfully, which made his face flush softly. "Hey, actually...Here you go. This is yours now. This way, if you're ever lonely, you'll remember I'm always thinking of you, okay?" Y/N grinned sweetly at him as she took off her flower-charmed necklace and put in on him, hiding it under his costume, so nobody else could see it. "Mum gave this to me on my birthday, before she died. It means the world for me, and so do you. So...Don't forget that, okay? I hope you'd smile more, you have a very pretty smile." as she said that, she squished his chipmunk cheeks.

The boy said nothing - What was he supposed to do, anyway? He was overwhelmed entirely by the only person who makes him feel...Good? But he had to go home, and he already knew that home was hell, and by the time he went there, he knew he wouldn't actually be going trick or treating, as promised...And he'd have to let Y/N down again.

Stupid family.

With a very disappointed voice, he went outside of the house and told the girl that he can't go trick or treating with her, but instead of yelling or disappointment, she just smiled and hugged him.

"It's alright! There's always next year! And besides, we already kinda went trick or treating, right? Sweet dreams, Mickey! Take care!" she waved at him cheerfully and skipped back home.

But little did she know that would be the last Halloween they'd spend together, for that night, a massacre happened at his home, and deep down, Y/N knew.

She just...Knew.

It was Michael who created that blood bath. He couldn't take all that abuse anymore, and Y/N understood that well enough...And she hated herself for thinking this, but she knew she was selfish...

If Michael didn't kill his family, they'd still have been able to hang out daily, and laugh together, lick each other's wounds, and go trick or treating on Halloween...

But she had to be happy with visiting him at Smith's Grove institute weekly with his mum, and they'd chat, and talk, and try to get him out of the shell that he hid himself into...

And he wouldn't stop hiding his face behind his masks, every week, a new one, a new one, and a new one, each time, weirder and creepier and grotesque.

No matter what his mother told him, and no matter what Y/N told him...Michael didn't listen, and the more time he spent there, the less he spoke...Until he hasn't said a word to Y/N in at least two weeks. It made the poor girl tear up, fearing that he hated her, but at least he'd shake his head and clutch his shirt where the gifted necklace would be.

And she would understand.

His mother was confused, and the Dr. was confused as well, but Y/N wasn't, and she'd smile at him and wouldn't explain what happened. It was their little secret, and nobody would be able to be made aware of.

And then...After many weeks of visiting, Michael stuck again and killed a nurse, which led to his mother committing suicide, and since she had nobody to go with to visit him, the last thing she could do was send in letters weekly, hoping they will be given to him, but she had no way of knowing, since nobody wanted to tell her anything, and no reply came by.

Until she gave up writing, thinking that Michael actually hated her, and decided to go on with her life, and her father made her move away to another state to get better education.

15 years passed, and the now 27 year old Y/N was a University graduate who worked hard and was able to get her old home in Haddonfield...To think she'd finally be able to go there again, she never would have thought that.

But here she was, having found a nice, well-paying job, and she was pretty happy, albeit nostalgic, being again back...Home. By the time she returned, she had already learnt how to play the guitar too, so every Friday night, she'd sit on her porch and play a song, softly singing along, hoping not to disturb anyone.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for loving me..." she hummed, singing the song by Kiss as she looked up at the starry night with no care in the world.

It was a simple life, but it was good and peaceful - And she had quite a lot of money to do with as she pleases - What else could ask for?

"BREAKING NEWS! A psychiatric patient from Smith's Grove escaped just last night and -..." but Y/N didn't bother hearing the rest of it, because...Because... "Michael...!" she gasped, covering her mouth with both her hands from the shock, tears threatening to fall and she goes outside, looking around, left and right, down the street, hoping to see a glimpse of the blond boy she once held so dear to her heart.

And what a coincidence, tomorrow night was Halloween...Did he do it on purpose? Did he even remember the days they spent together? Or how special Halloween was for him? Did he still have that silly necklace with him? Did he ever read her letters?

So many questions that she was pretty sure she'll never get an answer to, and that thought alone killed her.

The next day, she dressed in her Kiss loose Tshirt, remembering how that was Michael's favourite band, and somewhere in her heart, she hoped to see him again, even just by a little bit. Even a glimpse at his beautiful blue eyes would be enough.

But she knew she was dreaming...

She went to work as usual, but she was so busy that she didn't realise she ended up overstaying and overworking herself until she left the place and realised it was already dark outside, and there were barely any children trick or treating - But hey, there still were a few - And Y/N couldn't help but smile and remember the cute witch and her loyal jester.

The good times...

As she hummed carefree and looked up at the starry sky, but then she heard a crack, and looking back...Nothing? Hmm...Suspicious... She continued walking, but the ominous feeling in the back of her head continued, and so, she took out her pocket mirror and noticed a man somewhere in the back, walking towards her. A colleague from work, she recognised him, yes, she remembers him. He was kicked out from the job because of his inappropriate behaviour...And him following her now truly was no good news.

Analysing the situation, she realised she was close enough to home to make a break for it, so taking a deep breath, she sprinted the hell out of there...But...things didn't go as expected.

Before she could even reach her home, for she was pushed to the ground and straddled, his hands immediately finding their way around her neck, trying to immobilise her, to stop her from struggling and let him have his way with her.

But Y/N was a fighter, and she didn't want to allow the bullying she experienced as a child to take over her adult life, but she also didn't have the body strength to go against this guy, no matter how much she tried to struggle.

However...Before she knew it, the man stopped - Almost as if he froze - And she was splattered with liquid. It was blood. The man above her was stabbed in the chest, then in the head continuously, before his body was snatched and tossed away like a ragdoll.

Great - Y/N thought - From one criminal to another, with a whimper, she tried to get up and run away, but the man was too fast for her, and he picked her up with a weird ease, getting her inside her own house and letting her fall down on her couch.

The man saw fear in her eyes, and she was whimpering, her head hung as she tried to make herself as small as possible - As if she wasn't already so small, especially compared to him - It was pissing him off, as he remembered her jackass father abusing her. He would never hurt her! He promised her he'd always protect her, so why is she so scared of him...?!

"E-Excuse me...Uhm...Mister...A-Are you...Maybe...Uhmm...Are you Michael...?" she stuttered in such a meek voice that it grated his brain. This isn't right, Y/N was cheerful and happy. This...This wasn't right... The man got a hand underneath the neck of his blouse, only to reveal the old flower necklace from long ago. "Michael...! It really is you...Michael...I can't believe it! Oh my God...You grew up so much, this is insane!" as if a switch turned inside her, the girl jumped on her couch and threw herself on the incredibly tall man, not caring whether he liked it or not.

He was her Michael, and she missed him.

"You still don't talk, do you? Well...At least take off this mask of yours. I told you, I hate it when you hide yourself from me. I want to see your beautiful face." she chuckled, pulling Michael down with her on the couch, as he stood with his hands mid-way in the air, rather awkwardly, before finally pulling up his old mask and threading with it with his hands that were laying on his lap. "There we go, as beautiful as ever." she chuckled softly as she parted his long, dirty blond hair and letting it fall down his back, so his face could properly be seen. "Oh my God, you even have a stubble. I can't believe it. Well, we are all grown up after all, aren't we? Seems like almost yesterday when we'd go trick or treating...On this very day." she kept talking of the nostalgic things from so long ago, so much that it made Michael grunt in amusement, but his face didn't sketch any emotion. It really upset Y/N, it felt like talking to a wall. "Well, at least I'm happy that you remember me. I didn't think you did. I kinda thought you hated me too, I didn't know if you got any of my letters either. Uhm...I don't really know what to say. It's weird talking to myself like that. But I'm happy to see you again." she continued speaking before stopping altogether and fidgeting awkwardly on her spot next to him, as he didn't even move, or bother saying a single word.

They stood like that for a while, until Michael suddenly started moving, and revealed a bunch of unopened letters - All from her.

"You have all of them...!" Y/N gasped in shock, taking the letters and examining all of them one by one. "Why didn't you open them?" but instead of an answer, he shook his head. "Did you...Not have them...Until recently?" Y/N tried to guess, and the answer came in the form of a nod. "That stupid doctor! How dare he?! ...You must have felt so lonely stuck there...With your mum shooting herself, I couldn't go there anymore, so I sent you letters weekly...The doctor promised to give them to you...Urgh, what a jerk. And I thought you hated me and that's why you didn't want to reply to them...But you just got them. How annoying." Y/N groaned, realising the truth of what happened, and she let the letters fall down on the coffee table.

After some more silence between the two, Michael pointed towards her shirt, and she smiled, nodding and taking her guitar before leaning on his side. "Yeah, I know it's your favourite band. I never forgot that." she chuckled, and as she started playing the same song she knew so well - And she felt a strong arm sneaking around her waist, pulling her closer to his body. It surprised her a bit, but she felt so safe and warm in his embrace.

"I was made for lovin' you baby, you were made for lovin' me. And I can't get enough of you, baby..." she sang in the same sweet, crystalline, soft voice that he loved so much, and missed over the many years they've been separated.

"...Can you get enough of me?"

#slasher #slasher boyfriend #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher boyfriend imagine #slasher boyfriend x reader #michael myers #michael myers imagine #michael myers x reader #halloween #halloween imagine #halloween x reader

433 notes · View notes

fandom-puff · 4 years ago

Text

Malfoy!Reader dating Fred Weasley

Requested by: anon

AN: I put the reader as a slytherin bc... malfoys... and at age eleven she wanted to be in the same house as her brother, her dad etc. Also, reader is draco’s twin so their relationship didn’t start when she was too young. Also, this is a bit of an AU, so Fred doesn’t die lol

Gif creds to owner

Warnings: swearing, Lucius and Draco being quite prejudiced, references to sex but no actual getting jiggy with it

You had always thought Fred snd george were funny, and had been rather sad when they left school in your fifth year

Of course, you didn’t let on to Draco, as he would certainly tell mother (he was rather a mummy’s boy, but you couldn’t point that out to him, as he would just tell you that you’re a daddy’s girl)

You spent your summer daydreaming, sitting in the gardens in the manor or gazing out of your window

Your mother was beginning to talk about arranging a marriage for you (she had been in one, as had Aunt Bella, as well as most traditional pure bloods), but you brushed off every suitor she suggested, with increasingly ridiculous excuses

“Oh, honestly, YN, if you carry on like this, mother and father will have to marry you off to blood traitors like the Weasleys,” Draco teased, and you tensed up slightly

“Oh shut it, Draco, at least theyre one of the only pure blooded families that don’t fuck their cousins and force their daughters into arranged marriages,” you huffed, storming off to your bedroom

Several days later, your mother came to your room and asked if you were coming to diagon Alley with her and Draco

You agreed, and while Draco and narcissa were fussing over robes in madam malkin’s shop, you slipped away to check out the brand new Weasley shop

It was wonderful, and you quickly got distracted by all the colours and sounds and displays

That was until a second year bolted past you and caused you to stumble up some steps, but a strong hand grabbed your arm, stopping your fall

“Oi! Watch it- nearly broke this lovely girl’s neck!” He shouted, before leaning down to you. “You alright? Oh. Well if it isn’t Miss Malfoy,” he grinned, without malice.

“Yeah... Draco’s getting his robes fitted and I couldn’t be arsed listening to his whining. I... I really love the shop,” you said bashfully. “Be careful though, Filch will be banning postal orders to the school,” you grinned, and you settled into easy conversation as Fred took you on a tour of the shop

Ron, Harry, hermione and George watched with dropped jaws

Eventually, you had to leave, to stop your mother and brother from getting suspicious

On the train to hogwarts, you sat with Draco and Blaise and Pansy (And you had to stop yourself from gagging at pansy’s simpering)

Draco made a comment on the weasleys finally having a bit of gold yet still wearing their ‘tat’

“Enough, Draco. Money doesn’t define people’s worth” you snapped

“Ugh, don’t tell me you fancy one of them, YN,”

“Ha! Which one, they breed like rabbits!” Palsy chimed in.

“I’ve had enough of this,” you said, and went to go and sit elsewhere

The argument was forgotten w little while later, and a few weeks into term, a small barn owl landed in front of you, dropping a letter, addressed to ‘the loveliest Malfoy’

You hurried off to read the letter, which was an invite from Fred to the three broomsticks on the next hogsmeade weekend and the rest, as they say was history.

Your relationship with Fred remained a secret for several months up until the Christmas holidays, when you returned from Fred’s with a rather impressive love bite just beneath your ear that you hadn’t noticed before you left

Your mother knew something was off instantly- you looked a little more... serene than usual, your hair (which you had left the house in a neat braid) was loose and slightly tousled

Her suspicions were confirmed when at dinner, you tucked your hair behind your ear, and Draco’s fork clattered to the floor.

“Bloody hell, YN!” He said, smirking. “Thought you said you went shopping with Astoria and Pansy!”

You frowned, but then quickly realised, trying to sweep your blonde hair back over the hickey, but your father had stood up from the head of the table and marched over to you, grabbing your chin and tilting your head to the side.

“Who did this, YN?” He asked, seething at the idea of someone taking advantage of his little girl. “Tell me, YN,”

You gulped and looked away, your father sighing, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We will discuss it after dinner in my study,”

Draco smirked deviously, eating quicker so he could get in on the action

“Alone,” Lucius said pointedly.

After dinner, your mother healed the bruise with magic and walked you to Lucius’s study.

The three of you say together in silence for a moment, before your father spoke.

“Was it Zabini?” You shook your head

“Crabbe? Goyle? I swear, I will tear them limb from-“

Narcissa placed a hand on his knee soothingly, turning to you. “Who was it, darling?”

“Fred Weasley,” you whispered, hanging your head. “I-I’m sorry, father. We’ve been seeing eachother for months, writing and... well, I went to see him today. I’m sorry I lied about going shopping, but I knew you’d never let me leave the house if you knew...”

Lucius sighed slightly and narcissa frowned between her husband and her daughter, nodding slowly.

“Right,” Lucius said. “YN. Come. I need to have a word with Arthur Weasley,”

You looked at your mother desperately. “Don’t worry darling,” she murmured, eyes twinkling, and you nodded, following your father to the apparition point

***

“Bloody hell... is that... is that malfoy?”

Ron and Harry ran to the sitting room, where Arthur was reading.

“Dad... you’ll never guess... Lucius malfoy’s coming up the path!”

Arthur sighed and sent the boys upstairs, opening the door

“Lucius,” he greeted, tone a little tense.

Your father’s lips curled into a slight smirk as he gestured to you.

“My daughter revealed something rather surprising to me today, Arthur,” he said and you worried your lip. “She told me that she had been seeing one of your sons behind my back,”

Arthur stared at you, eyes narrowing slightly. You looked very nervous.

“I... didn’t know Ron was seeing anybody,” he said hesitantly

Lucius was about to speak again, but your cut him off. “No... not Ron, Mr Weasley, sir. Er... I’ve been seeing Fred,”

“I think you’d best come in, both of you. Molly!”

Ten minutes later you were settled at the scrubbed kitchen table, sipping tea in an uncomfortable silence as Lucius and Arthur stared at eachother challengingly.

You looked over at Mrs weasley apologetically and she smiled kindly, reaching over to squeeze your hand to reassure you

“Honestly, two grown men trying to stare eachother down like fourth years!” She huffed, flinging a handful of floo powder into the fire, leaning down to speak into it. “Fred Weasley, you had better come through this fireplace in the next ten seconds!” She called

Pretty soon Fred was stumbling through, grinning

His eyes softened when he saw you and widened when he saw your father

“Er... have a... nice Christmas, Mr Malfoy?” He asked awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as you mentally facepalmed.

Lucius stood up and drew his wand

You gasped, grabbing his arm. “Dad no!” You cried, looking at him pleadingly as he marched over to Fred, backing him into the wall with his wand at his throat. Arthur’s wand was also drawn while Molly shook her head

“If you ever hurt my daughter,” your father said in a low, silky voice. “If you break her heart, cause her harm or force her to do anything, I will kill you, Weasley. If I hear that you have used, abused or manipulated my little girl, I will personally see to it that you are never seen or heard from again. Do you understand?”

Fred nodded, eyes wide

Lucius quickly moved away, putting his wand back into its holder. “Well,” he said. “Now that that nasty business is taken care of,” he offered his hand to Arthur, who (after a hard glare from Mrs weasley) shook it.

Molly then turned to Fred herself and said “if I hear that you hurt YN in any way, it won’t just be Mr Malfoy you’ll have to deal with, Fred Weasley,” she said menacingly, wagging her finger at him.

Fred nodded.

As your parents went outside to discuss a sort of truce, you went to Fred, wrapping your arms around his middle, nuzzling into his chest.

From outside, your parents saw your loving embrace, your gentle kiss, the way Fred cupped your cheek and pushed your hair out of your face so he could kiss your forehead gently, molly sighed happily. “He’ll look after her,” she murmured

Both fathers spoke at once

“He’d better.”

Tag List: @a-hopeless-fan @lotsoffandomrecs @justanotherwildstar @kashishwrites @rai-strangebr @zodiyack @haphazardhufflepuff @dumbfuckinslytherin @severuslovebot @darkthought15 @strawberriesonsummer

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x malfoy!reader #malfoy!reader #fred weasley headcanons #harry potter #hp #request #fluff #harry potter au

676 notes · View notes

unmaskedagain · 5 years ago

Text

Sorry, it’s reserved

Honestly neither Marinette nor Chloe had been surprised when Bustier caved to Alya’s insistent requests that the two girls not be allowed to go on the class trip to New York City. Lila had been subtly hinting about how much friendly better thing would be if they weren’t there.

Mostly because just two weeks ago, Marinette had presented her class trip idea presentation; complete with a potential itinerary, pictures of the grand hotel could stay at, the fantastic tours they could go on, and exciting places they could eat. The class had been suitable wow’d.

What was surprising was when, after Bustier announced in front of the class that Marinette and Chloe couldn’t go to New York much to the smug faces of the students, Adrien said, “Cool. Then I’ll skip the class trip too.” He then turned to his two best friends. “What do you two want to do instead?” Adrien was sick and tired of the other students in the class. He had been trying to get them to believe Lila was a liar for months but no one, not even Nino, would listen to him.

Instead, they turned on the two most awesome girls in the class. Well, Adrien wasn’t going to deal with it anymore.

The look of horror on Lila’s face was priceless. However, there was no backtracking now. The dream of a romantic trip to New York, walking hand in hand with Adrien, burst into flames and was now nothing more than ashes.

“Yeah, I won’t go either,” Nathaniel stated. “Doesn’t seem fair. Marinette worked really hard on the idea for the trip.” He never bought Lila’s crap, and he never understood how anyone else did.

Marinette smirked, “I’m up for whatever.” She shrugged. “I’m actually looking forward to now having to organize the trip. Or fundraise for it. And to think I was going to start working this weekend.” The bluenette made sure to look directly at Bustier and Alya, her ex-friend when she said this. “Its only October but believe me, you’ll want to start making reservations fast. Nothing was done but the presentation; which you can have by the way. And just a reminder, a lot of places do require a down payment. Also, don’t forget approval from the school board.”

“Which takes like three months btw,” Chloe said with a vicious smile on her face. She was the last class president. She knew exactly how hard getting a fabulous trip approved of was. “Paperwork has to be filled out in triplicates and if you mess up on even one form, they’ll make you fill out the entire thing again.” She pulled out her phone and sent a quick text. “I just let Daddy know that he won’t have to make his annual donation this year for the trip. If you don’t want us there you obviously don’t need it. And to think, he usually funds thirty percent of it. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

By the looks on the other students’ faces, it was clear that they didn’t know that. However, pride wouldn’t let them back down. Besides, Alya thought, they had the moral high ground. Who wanted to hang with bullies anyway?

To the other students’ credit, they did manage to raise enough money for the trip to New York. Granted, it wasn’t nearly as much as they usually did. Alya, the new class president, also forgot to make most of the reservations until the last minute, and it was hard to find a fancy hotel willing to accommodate an entire class of rowdy teenagers at the last minute. So they would stay at a Holiday Inn just outside of New York City. The glasses-wearing girl wished Lila had been so busy with her charity work so she would’ve had time to help and maybe they could’ve gotten a much better trip.

By the end, the class trip the class would be getting wasn’t nearly as were or amazing as the one Marinette had presented at the beginning of the year. However, most were just happy to be going to New York.

Lila shot four exiled students a victorious look as she bragged about all the things and people she’d get to see in New York. She had spent months trying to get Adrien to agree to go on the trip but he wouldn’t budge.

She sighed dramatically, “I love New York. The only bad part are the superheroes. Last time I was there Robin and Speedy practically got into a fistfight over who’d take me on a date. I hate getting in the way of friendships.” Marinette snorted. “We leave for New York in three weeks. What will you three be doing then?”

“Waiting for a house to fall on you,” Marinette said easily.

Adrien chuckled, “We leave for L.A in two days.”

That got the classes’ attention.

“Sorry, What?” Alya asked; suddenly getting a bad feeling in her stomach.

Chloe leaned back in her seat, “L.A. It was my idea. We decided since we couldn’t go on your trip we’d go on our own. Let's see… our first stop in L.A, we’ll be there for about a week; we’ll tour some movie studios, go on set for the Star Trek movie that filming. Attending the movie premiere of the newest Marvel movie. Then leave for Indio; it's not that far from L.A, I think. But who cares. We have to be at Coachella, even if only for two days. Then we go to Metropolis. And I can’t remember… Marinette what did you plan for us to do? It was her idea to go there.” She told the class who had looks of sheer dismay on their faces that got worse and worse as the four described the trip.

Marinette smiled, “Tour of LexCorp, a tour of Daily Planet, reservations for the grand opening of Gordon Ramsey’s new restaurant, we got backstage passes for a 5 seconds of Summer concert-” She was cut off

“Why couldn’t we go see Selena Gomez again?” Adrien frowned.

Marinette rolled her eyes, “Because you couldn’t beat Chloe in an arm-wrestling contest.”

“She is freakishly strong,” Adrien protested. “And she plays mind games!”

Chloe blew a raspberry at the other blond.

“We’ll be in Metropolis for about a week,” Marinette continued, as her two friends bickered and Adrien declared he would have his vengeance. “Then Adrien got to pick where we next.”

“Disney World!” The blond shouted. It was his biggest childhood dream and it was becoming a reality. “We’re going to Florida to Disney World, and then Universal Studios; where we’ll get to see the Magical World of Harry Potter.”

“Geek!” Chloe sniped.

“Slytherin!” Adrien hissed back at her.

“And proud,” Chloe crossed her arms. “But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Hufflepuff?” She said the Hogwarts’ house like it was a dirty word. “Most notable thing a Hufflepuff ever did was die. And then somehow ended up in Twilight.”

Adrien stood up angrily, “You take that back!”

“Make me!”

Adrien looked at Nathaniel, “Ravenclaw, do something!” Their two houses went together like PB&J.

Nathaniel put down his pencil, “No.” And went back to writing. “Make the Gryffindor do it!” He motioned to Marinette.

Marinette just looked up at the ceiling, praying to gods’ for patience.

Adrien, she was suddenly reminded, was loyal enough to help hide a body.

Nathaniel was smart enough to have already come up with an alibi.

Chloe as conning enough to ensure they got away it, after goading Marinette into doing it in the first place.

Marinette would eventually snap and kill Lila. She would need them. “We’ll be in Florida for about four days; enough to see both amusement parks. Then all four of us agreed to go to New York next. First, stop Gotham; we’ll be touring Wayne Industries and attending one of the Wayne family annual galas.”

“Then we go directly to New York City,” Chloe said examining her nails. “Mama arranged us a tour of Vogue and Mode. We’ll be going to a few of the runways for Fashion Week. Adrien’s father arranged for us to go see Hamilton on Broadway.”

It had taken a lot of time, effort, threats of going to the police, press, and CPS regarding child labor laws broken concerning Adrien to get Gabriel Agreste to agree to let his son go on the trip (as well as allow him to actually have a childhood). But there had been several conditions; mostly to do with security and proper supervision; which all the parents had, though not to Gabriel’s extremeness.

Still, the four kids agreed to the terms.

“We’re going to a baseball game!” Adrien added excitedly. “A real one. I’m going to eat a hot dog the size of my arm. And cotton candy the size of my head.”

Marinette nodded slowly, already picturing herself patting Adrien’s back as he whined about as stomach ache from eating too much.

Chloe frown, picturing the same. She had lost a pair of Jimmy Choos after one disastrous trip to the carnival that involved way too much greasy food and rollercoaster with two loops. She shook the nightmarish memory away, “Thanks to Marinette, we’ll be touring the Stark Industries and the Avengers tower. All the hotels we’ll be staying at are 5 stars. Also, we’re going to three, three Michelin star restaurants. I can imagine what would’ve happened if she had made the reservations late. We might have ended up in some god awful Inn.”

“Come to think of it,” Marinette paused thoughtfully, “We should get to New York about the same time you do. What are your plans? No! Don’t tell me. I’m sure they’re amazing and I don’t want to be jealous. I mean you kicked us off the trip so you had to have something out of this world lined up.”

Alya’s mouth was dry. She tried to come up with something to say; something to brag about but she knew that come September she’d have to pony up the pics. Because Pics or it didn’t happen. Chloe was active on social media; she’d be updating on a daily basis and scooping out her competition. She’d know instantly if they were lying and they’d never live it down.

Lila fought the urge to throw the biggest tantrum of her life. At the beginning of the year, after Marinette’s trip presentation, she thought getting the bluenette and Blondie off the trip was the perfect plan; even when Adrien said he wouldn’t go. However, it was soon clear that Alya and the other students were in way over their hands. The dream trip that Marinette had spun them would be realized as only a dream as it was clear they wouldn’t manage it without Marinette’s organizational skills and Chloe’s funding.

The trip they got was the standard tourist one. A look around the city, the statue of liberty, Time Square, and a museum or two. Honestly, Lila took better trips with her grandmother.

Maybe there was still a way to save things…

“You know,” Lila smiled sweetly. “Since we’re all going to be in New York anyway, we should do everything together-“

“Can’t,” Marinette stated firmly. “Reservations are reservations for a reason. Tickets were bought. You know how it is.”

Bustier frowned. This had ended the way she thought it would. When Alya and the other students beseeched her to disallow Marinette and Chloe from the school trip, she thought it was for the best. Chloe had always had a hostile attitude that Marinette seemed to have developed as well. It left the rest of the class with negative energy that wasn’t helpful for nurturing their growth.

However, she couldn’t have predicted just how badly things would go. Alya had come crying to her several times about having to fill out and re-fill out multiple forms for the school board. She seemed to get something wrong every time.

The children could barely raise enough money for the trip. And it wasn’t nearly as wonderful as the one Marinette had come up with at the beginning of the year. Still, they were going to New York which was what counted. Most classes wouldn’t even have gotten that far, She thought smugly. It would be a good trip. (Caline had dreamed about accidentally running into Steve Rogers or Thor and being swept off her feet. And she thought that dream wouldn’t even be possible if she was too busy trying to reign in her to most troublesome students which were one of her reason her telling the two they couldn’t go.) However, even that trip paled in comparison to the one the bluenette had planned for her and her two friends. 5-star hotels, trips to galas, fashion week, going to the Avengers Towers, possibly meeting Captain America, Thor, and the rest! It all sounded too good to be true.

“There must be something you can do,” Bustier said. “It would be nice if all my students were together.”

The other students looked at the tour with hope clear in their eyes.

Adrien, Marinette, and Chloe just looked at the teacher like she was dumb. Each fought the urge to remind the teacher that she was just fine with the three not going less than ten minutes ago.

Adrien rolled his eyes, “There isn’t. Everything was bought and paid for. They are only expecting four kids which is why we get to go to so many places. Turns out, not many hotels and restaurants want to deal with a bunch of teens at the last minute.”

Marinette nodded, “Besides you wouldn’t want us crashing your trip anyway. We’d hate to get in the way. We know you guys wanted a drama-free trip.” She through the term back in their faces. “But I wouldn’t mind meeting up one day. You guys are doing time square right. Let us know when and we’ll see if we can do it the same day.”

“If we can fit in our schedules,” Chloe snapped. “It's pretty packed.”

“Not as packed as theirs, I’m sure,” Marinette smiled kindly, though inside she was doing a victory dance worthy of a champion. “I can’t wait to see the pictures.”

The four left that Friday. By Sunday, the social medias were filled with dozens of pictures of beautiful hotel rooms. The next three weeks were the worst in the class’s entire lives. The other students in the class tried their best not to look but it was hard. Particularly when the picture of Marinette, Adrien, and Chloe on the red carpet started to make waves. Pictures of the four meeting various celebrities like Lex Luther and Chris Pine, superheroes like Superman and Batman, of them at Disney World and Coachella had left more than a bit of envy in their hearts.

Their own trip had started out terribly. Alya hadn’t book enough rooms so they had to triple bunk, with some people having to sleep on a cot. And it turned out that the only tours she had secured was to Elis Island and the New York Art Museum; nothing nearly as exciting as they hoped. So they had been mostly left on their own for sight-seeing.

Still, it wasn’t a terrible trip. They ate great good and saw the normal New York tourist attractions.

However, when the time came for them to go to Time Square and meet up with Adrien, Alya, Chloe, and Marinette, Bustier was ready to pull her hair out.

Bustier never had trouble on any of the previous trips, as they were always organized to the minute, but this one had so much free time the kids didn’t know what to do with themselves which resulted in chaos. And being threatened with being kicked out of the hotel. She didn’t understand what was different. The students were usually so well behaved.

Sure on previous trips, there had been two more chaperones but Bustier always thought they were unnecessary. Her students were the best and most well behaved in school for the most part. She was positive that they only needed their teacher to watch out for them.

She was wrong.

And Bustier was very surprised to see Mendeleiev there with her four wayward students, looking very much like the Cat that got the Canary.

“Demetria,” Bustier greeted politely. “What are you doing here?”

Mendeleev didn’t bother to hide her smirk. “I was invited as a chaperone. It just me and Gorilla. Between the two of us we keep the delinquents in check,” She said Delinquents at the four who playfully hissed at her. Each of the four wore a black shirt with a different Hogwarts house on it.“Best decision I ever made. I was reluctant at first as it’s not school-related and I wouldn’t be paid for it. But Agreste and Bourgeois are paying me nine times my usual amount an hour to watch the kids like a hawk. Luckily their goods kids. What about you? How is your class trip going?”

Bustier forced herself to smile, and not bite out angrily that it was driving her insane. The kids were driving her completely up the wall. And Caline was more than a little aware of how amazing her four students trip was and to think Mendeleiev had gotten to do it all with them made her blood boil and her eyes practically turn green with jealousy. “Extremely well. We are having… the time of our lives.”

“I’m sure,” Mendeleiev said. She and the rest of the teachers had never been happy with how Bustier ran her class. Or just how much she and Damocles got away with. However, it didn’t matter. Come September, things would change. Damocles had already gotten fired for taking bribes, breaking procedure, and being a complete idiot.

Bustier, while technically, hadn’t done anything wrong would still have to listen to the school board tell her everything that was wrong with her class. And there was a lot.

“Have you gone to the Avengers tower yet?” Bustier asked, not subtly at all. She still hoped that if there was time she and her class could tag along.

“We have,” Mendeleiev told her, bursting the bubble of hope that had sprung in Caline. “It was quite wonderful. I had a wonderful debate with Doctor Banner; it turns out he’s read several of my papers and me, his. While the kids are at the baseball game tomorrow, the two of us will be having a lunch date and going over our scientific hypothesis tomorrow.”

“Get it, Ms. Mendeleiev,” Chloe laughed.

Mendeleiev shot her a stern look but her mouth twitched as she fought a smile.

“Perhaps my class could go with?”

“Sorry, we have a reserved seats.”

Envy flared in Caline Bustier more than ever before in her entire life. If they had been still in Paris, Hawkmoth would’ve had a field day. “Oh but what about watching the kids. Won’t they need you? What would their parents say about this?” A vicious smirk appeared on Bustier’s face. She always thought Mendeleiev needed to be knocked down a peg or two.

Mendeleiev didn’t bat an eye, “Already covered. Already cleared with their parents. After all who’s going to say no to Captain America and Iron Man babysitting their kids. Steve hadn’t been to a game a while and he really wanted to take his son Peter and the rest of Tony’s interns. The kids should have a blast.”

Adrien shot a bright smile at his bodyguard, “Natasha is going too! I still don’t understand how you two know each other.”

Gorilla’s face burned a red color but he remained silent. He wore the bright yellow and black Hufflepuff scarf Adrien had begged him to wear as a show of support, particularly when Mendeleiev revealed herself to be a Ravenclaw (So did Bruce Banner). Captain America and the Winter Soldier high-fived Marinette over being Gryffindors. And Pepper Potts, Iron Man, and the Black Widow introduced themselves as Slytherin alumni.

Where was the Hufflepuff love?

Adrien had looked at Hawkeye with hope but Clint had shrugged and said, “Gryffindor.”

The blond boy huffed and pouted (the pout was how he got Gorilla to wear the scarf). He bet Thor was a Hufflepuff.

The rest of Bustier’s class still steer clear away from the four; out of pride and envy. Lila had attempted to go near Adrien but was stopped by Alya who didn’t want to risk her bestie getting bullied by the meanest girls in school.

Alya had decided after seeing the pictures of the four with Superman, The Avengers, Batman, and THE LOIS LANE that life just wasn’t fair. If it was Marinette and Chloe (Maybe even Nathaniel) would be stuck in Paris, crying their eyes out over not being allowed on the trip. It was what they deserved for being such bullies.

The preplanned tour of Times Square, which was mostly just the kids walking around and awing at the pretty lights. It was actually a bit boring, once the excitement wore off. They found themselves on the highest building there, looking over New York City in its entirety, along with a bunch of other tourists.

Suddenly all the electronic billboards and every ounce of electricity turned off. Crowds up people looked around confused.

The giant monitors blurred and a face appeared, “Greetings citizens of New York, I. AM. THE. Electrocutioner!” Lights were centered on the highest building there, and it was clear the villain stood on top of the building. The building of Bustier’s class was on.

One thought echoed in the minds of each Parisian citizen, “Fuck.”

Before any of the Paris heroes’ could figure out if they should act or not, another team of heroes arrived.

The evil-doer had with him a dozen or so henchmen, each more menacing the last.

The sight of Kid Flash zooming up the side of the building was incredible. Seeing Young Justice kick butt left Marinette a little breathless.

Was this what it was like, she wondered, seeing Ladybug fight.

When some of the henchmen were ordered to take hostages; Marinette, Chloe, Nathaniel, Adrien, Gorilla, and Mendeleiev fighting back much to the shock of Bustier and her class. Chloe rolled her eyes as she, and the other three pulled out miniature pens from their pockets; did they really not know how often New York is attacked by Super Villians. Seriously.

With a click of the button, the pen turns into a long whip. Chloe refused to be taken without a fight. Her and Marinette, who now wielded a fighting staff, nodded at each other. The blonde snorted when she looked at Adrien, “A shield, really?”

“I don’t want to hurt people too much,” Adrien defended.

“This is why you’re a Hufflepuff.”

Nathaniel spun his trident around. It worked like a Taser and could shock people. Luckily only the villain had electricity powers.

Marinette didn’t know how it happened but suddenly she was fighting back to back with Robin.

“Nice moves,” Robin said after Marinette knocked out a henchman with a high kick. He knocked out a henchman with his staff.

“Not too bad yourself.”

Nathaniel nearly had a heart attack when Aqualad jumped in to help him protect several tourists. When biggest henchmen came rushing at him, the redhead fired up his trident and within seconds the underling was down for the count.

Kaldur paused, “…Can I borrow that?”

Chloe used the whip with ease and grace. She has been practicing with it ever since she saw Shadow Hunters for the first time. Isabelle Lightwood was an icon.

The blonde didn’t know how it happened. But one minute she was fighting off two lame minions then she saw an Arrow guy fighting and then falling off the roof, and the next thing she knows she’s jumping after him. Then they both were dangling off the roof with only Chloe’s whip for support.

“You call this a rescue?” Arrow guy snorted.

“You call yourself a hero?” Chloe snapped.

“Meow!”

Chloe didn’t see how he did it but one moment she was hanging there; the next Arrow guy was swinging her up back onto the roof.

He smirked at her, “You’re a pretty one.”

She waved him off, “Oh go save someone!”

When Superboy crashed down next to him after taking a brutal hit, Adrien gripped his shield and stood in front of him. Adrien was able to block most of the attempts of the underlings to reach the boy of steel. But it wasn’t long until they had them surrounded. Just when Adrien thought he was a goner, red lasers blasted the henchman back.

Superboy stood up, “Thanks for the assist.” He smiled at the blond boy. “Nice shield.”

Gorilla and Mendeleiev handled their own really well. After seeing Gorilla fight, Adrien started to have some serious suspicions about just how his bodyguard knew the Black Widow.

When the fight was over, and the villains detained, the small group stood with the rest of the civilians until the all-clear was given.

The Bustier and her class stared in awe as the members of Young Justice walked over to the six with large smiles. The heroes didn’t even spare the class a glance. Not even when Alya pushed Lila to the front but Robin and Arsenal never even noticed her.

Dick Grayson, Robin, smiled at the pretty bluenette with bluest eyes he’d ever seen and did his best to ignore Batman in his ear about bringing in the Heroes Ladybug, Chat Noir, Queen Bee, and Bright Roar in to Watch Tower stat. He knew all about Ladybug and, thanks to Batman, knew her civilian identity. But to see her in person was a whole different experience.

No, there was a time and place for everything. And right now the time was to flirt with the Gorgeous Superhero who a skintight red suit.

“You’re amazing,” He told her honestly. “What are you doing for the rest of my life?”

“I swear to god if you propose!” Batman hissed in his ear.

Marinette blushed a bright red.

Kaldur handed the trident back to Nathaniel, “This is an amazing weapon. You use it well.” He told the redhead. This must be the new Hero Bright Roar “I wish for one just like it.”

Nathaniel flushed but handed the weapon back to Kaldur, “Keep it. I’m not that good with it.”

Kaldur smiled, “Then perhaps you will let me teach you one day. One on one sessions.”

“Really Kaldur,” Aquaman chastised. “This is a mission, not a dating show.”

Aqualad ignored him.

Superboy nodded at Adrien, “You’re good,” he told the smaller blond boy. Though from the reports he read about Chat Noir, he was only a year younger than him. “Cool shirt by the way. It's nice to meet a fellow Hufflepuff.” He said and then suddenly his arms were full of a blond boy thanking him for existing.

“Breathe,” Superman chuckled in his ear. “Just breathe, Connor.”

“For such good finders, we’re so hard to find,” Adrien said. “I could kiss you!”

Superboy turned the brightest shade of red anyone had ever seen.

Arsenal eyed the hot blond girl, “At least you know how to stay out of the way.”

Chloe glared at him, “Next time, I’ll just let you die.”

“Then who be the man of your dreams.”

“Freddie Kruger would probably take his job back,” Chloe said with a hand on her hip. “Though his face isn’t as terrifying as yours.”

“That girl will eat you alive,” Oliver warned in his ear.

“So you admit you dream about me,” Roy stepped forward.

Chloe huffed, “Get real!”

“Hey,” Alya called. “Robin, Speedy, don’t you want to say hi to Lila Rossi.” She motioned to the Italian girl who had gone pale.

“It’s Arsenal now,” Roy corrected.

Dick nodded, “And who’s Lila?”

Marinette smiled, “Oh I’d totally marry you now!”

Robin grinned and raised his arms in victory.

Batman cursed in his ear.

Robin, Arsenal, Aqualad, and Superboy kept their attention on the on the four. No matter how much their superhero mentors protested. No matter how much Bustier’s tried to intervene.

No, their attentions’ were reserved

#ml fic #ml salt #class salt #Young Justice #Marienette Dupain Cheng #Marinette deserves better #adrien deserves better

5K notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years ago

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 4

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Bullying and non-explicit violence in this chapter, Peter whump.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: WE'VE GOT PLOT! Peter Parker deserves better. Steeb needs a vibe check cuz he keeps failing them :( Boomers are hot but ... Boomers. KitKat, anyone? Natasha is a Brain Cell™. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet @hermione-grangers-wife @downeyreads @individualistfem

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings 👑 - titty gators assemble! 👀

I scheduled a visit to the tower two days after my "illness" episode. Most of my lows passed without any lingering, the headache was gone and so was the nausea. My mood was still somewhere between "please kill me" and "I could eat a lot of cake right now" but it was bearable. I was very much looking forward to occupying myself with the project if only to divert my focus from overthinking about my own misery.

Peter said he was going to see Tony straight after school and offered for me to tag along with him: Tony sent his driver to pick up the boy. I didn't have the heart to refuse, seeing no point in waiting for an Uber on a rainy workday afternoon. Traffic was horrendous in New York city no matter the weather but a downpour took the congestions to a new height.

When I spotted the sleek, black brand new Audi I made a beeline for it, waving to Happy as I crawled inside as fast as I could. "Don't get the seats wet," The chauffeur grumbled.

"It's wet outside," I rolled my eyes into the next dimension. Whoever thought his nickname was in any way appropriate needed a psych eval. Peter sat on my right side looking wet and downright miserable. I had to swallow a string of expletives at the sight in front of me: the entirety of Peter's right cheek was an ugly shade of blue, eye on it's way to swelling shut and lip busted open. "What in the everliving fuck happened to you?!" Breathing through my nose, I fought bubbling rage inside of me. Peter looked like he went toe to toe with a Hulk.

"Flash happened," The boy mumbled, whining and brooding simultaneously. His cheeks glowed.

"That little runt?" I took another pause to steady my breathing, tentatively reaching out for Peter's hand. He grasped it tightly in gratitude. "Well, did you at least fight back?"

"No, I... I can't do that," Peter became even smaller, curling into the seat and in himself. I was disappointed for sure as I wouldn't just stand there and take a beating, but Pete was different. He was sensitive-a total pacifist to boot.

"Do any of the teachers know? I'm guessing this isn't the first time," Sure, I've seen Parker with an occasional scrape or a bruise but I'd always figured it was just him being a teenage nuisance. Curtain of depression I had over the previous days slowly began morphing into cold fury.

"No, well, they probably do. But Flash is the principal's son so they ignore it, I guess," Peter sighed in defeat. "Mr. Stark doesn't know either. Please don't tell him," He begged.

"Abuse thrives in silence," I parroted our sex-ed teacher but otherwise made no promises. My mind raced between comforting Peter and ordering Happy to turn the car around so I could find the shitty excuse of a human named Flash Thompson and violently make it known what happens to people when they get me pissed off.

"What are you going to tell Tony?" I asked Peter as we herded into the elevator, slightly wet and mostly miserable.

"I have an idea or two," The boy answered darkly.

"You have been summoned to the common floor, I was instructed to notify you there is food to be eaten before sciencing, per Doctor Banner's orders," Friday announced, rerouting the elevator to the aforementioned destination. Peter groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands.

"What the fuck happened to you, kid?" Bucky decided screeching like a banshee and attracting at least five of his teammates to come running from the dining room was the best way to approach an obviously spooked Peter. The boy shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"Our classmate beat him up," I answered before Pete could lie. "The fucking runt that doesn't know his damn place. His two cronies probably too," The venom in my voice could've melted steel. I was genuinely furious.

"What's his name?" Captain-Steve growled. I was taken aback at the large blonde man suddenly standing up, fists clenched. My feet moved involuntarily, taking a step back from the enraged supersoldier and Pete cowered, startled.

I stepped in front of him immediately. "I'm gonna need you to chill the fuck down, Cap," The trembling in my voice persisted but I stood my ground nonetheless. "Your roid rage is going to land you in prison if you keep going," In my own rage, self-preservation went out of the window along with common sense. The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up, Peter was downright shaking behind me.

"She's right," Bucky darkly eyed his friend. "Off to the sparring mats with you." He grabbed Rogers by the shoulder with his prosthetic arm all but hauling the blonde towards the elevator. Thor immediately took the Captain's other side, not quite touching him but obviously giving his friend a vibe check. I could've clapped. Not that Steve resisted much, but still.

"Everyone calm down, please," The Black Widow piped up in an even tone. I can always count on a fellow woman to keep calm in a situation where men's tempers almost cause a disaster. "Now, tell us what happened," She approached Peter on quiet feet. The boy shuffled around me looking every bit as dejected as I felt about the situation. "And someone fetch some ice for that bruise," Romanoff's offhand gesture had Barton scrambling into the kitchen.

Peter sat down on the couch, looking at the floor. "Flash has been bothering me since, like, forever and today I just ignored his usual remarks because I had a calculus test, I- I wanted to make sure I knew everything, and I was sitting in a really quiet corner, and I- Ned was hanging out with MJ somewhere and I guess Flash got angry that I didn't answer," Peter rambled in his usual nervous fashion, sentences jumbling together. Natasha kept nodding, simply hugging the boy softly with one arm. As soon as Clint came back with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a towel Natasha's other arm pressed it gently to Peter's bruised face. The assassin frowned at the pained whine that left Peter's lips.

"Honestly, that dude is a fucking piece of shit, I'm surprised how he's not in jail yet," I piped up from where I was pacing along the large window overlooking the city skyline. Wound up and tense, I couldn't stay still. "He stole a senior's car for a joyride, last year. He routinely picks on the freshmen and I've personally dislocated his wrist from slapping me on the ass in, like, eight grade," Peter's eyebrows raised at my admission and Natasha gave me a vaguely approving hum.

I caught Peter's eye the moment elevator doors opened revealing a panicked looking Tony and a worried Bruce with Loki standing behind them, talking to a man in... Robes? And a red cape?

"What happened to my science child?!" Tony's fury rang high. The engineer rushed over to Peter, frantically checking him over and growling at the state of his face, letting out a string of expletives seeing the busted lip had started to bleed again.

I gave a tiny tilt of my lips to Bruce who had the oddest compilation of worried, confused and amused in his expression.

"You should probably get him to a doctor, I think his mouth is cut on the inside," I scooted closer to Banner, informing him quietly.

"I'm a doctor," The man in the cape announced, ... strutting (!) over to Pete. There was really no other way to describe his long, precise strides. He quickly butted Tony out of the way and instructed Peter to open his mouth.

"This is utter chaos," Loki muttered, sitting down on the furthest end of the couch.

"It is and I'm living for it," I sighed. The situation was very disorganized with Tony flailing about in blind panic, Bruce just standing there, Cap's rage quit and subsequent intervention by his buddies. Then the new strange dude... Loki was brooding and honestly? Big mood. The only person who made some resemblance of order out if this cluster fuck was Natasha.

All and all, it was quite endearing. I imagined that's what a large, close family would look like. When I said I was enjoying myself - no lie there, even despite the grim situation.

"How are you? Are you hurt?" Bruce quietly asked me, laced with concern. His shoulders relaxed somewhat when I shook my head negative. "Hungry?" I nodded affirmatively and the doctor produced a kit kat bar seemingly out of nowhere, winking at me with a boyish smile. I just about melted on the spot, tearing off a block and giving it to him to avoid any embarrassing reactions I might possibly spout in the wake of my recently acquired crush.

We munched in silence as the Cape Guy explained to Peter (and anxious Tony) that a few butterfly stitches would be needed as well as CT scan to rule out a possible concussion. At that point Tony was steadily turning purple in colour, rage and anxiety combining for a large storm that no doubt will hit sooner or later.

I felt responsible, I guess. Peter must've known Tony was going to react so strongly to his science son getting hurt and well, I hated seeing Tony so mad and helpless. On soft feet, I padded over to the engineer, making sure to stay within direct line of vision. "Tones?" He shot his eyes at me. He was furious. "Look, I'm going to make that fucker's life a living hell," Tony made an agitated noise of protest however I wasn't having it. I knew I'd be in trouble later but for now, I firmly placed my palm over his mouth, enjoying the surprised widening of his eyes at the frivolous gesture. "Listen, right now you can't do shit. You guys are super-powered individuals and Flash is just a nasty kid. You'll get in a big fat mess and he'll get to go away with a slap on the wrist," Tony sagged, visibly, bodily, and I felt it was safe to remove my hand from his face.

"I hate to say it but she's right," Bruce piped up behind me, voice soft.

I nodded. "I'm going to ruin the guy without putting a single finger on him," Tony nodded grimly and Cape Guy halted his examination of Peter's head to give me a mildly concerned stare. "My mother is a litigator, a vicious one at that. I've learned a trick or two," I winked with a grim sort of amusement causing the man to snort. Tony chuckled humorlessly. "As much as I hate to be the voice of reason, it would be a shame for anybody in this tower to end up behind bars. Even if it would be for a good cause," I finished my speech, patting Tony on the shoulder. The surprised squeak made its way out of my mouth when the billionaire pulled me tight against his chest, wrapping his arms around me in a desperate hug.

Ignoring my skyrocketing heartbeat, I wrapped myself around him as best as I could. Whatever issues the man had, they had to be quite painful if he reacted to the situation so intensely. I was selfish, but not heartless, so I gave into the affectionate gesture despite the inappropriate feelings that blossomed within me.

"I don't know what I've done to deserve you," Peter whined, fat round tears beginning to drip down his cheeks. I could tell he was embarrassed beyond Hell but his feelings overwhelmed him enough to just spill through. I immediately made my meanest big eyes to Natasha and Cape Guy who immediately hugged the life out of Pete. There, all set.

"Now go get that scan done," I frowned, seeing Peter start to nod off. "I don't know your name, but can you arrange that? Since you're a doctor," I nodded to the Cape Guy.

"I'm Stephen Strange," he replied, effortlessly picking up a dozing Peter and carrying him to the elevator. Before I could react, he waved his one free hand in some sort of a circle and a glowing ring appeared with what seemed to be a ER room - Strange hastily stepped through, followed by Tony suddenly withdrawing and hurrying after the ... Wizard? The portal closed immediately after.

"What the fuuuuuck..." I gaped at the now empty space. Strange, indeed. Even Loki's scoff didn't put a dent in my perplexed curiosity.

"So, lawyer family, huh?" Natasha, who I'd forgotten about, spoke up, mildly interested.

"Just my mother," I replied casually. They were the last thing in the world I wanted to talk about, especially after being so upset for the past hour. Man, I needed a drink. My hands itched for a cigarette.

"What about your father?" The spy didn't relent, pushing the issue with deadly politeness - I was actually sure she'd threaten me into talking about it even if I refused to.

"He's a celebrity manager."

"Cool," Her tone perked up at that. "Know anyone famous?"

"Know? No," I thought about all the A-list Hollywood stars I've been around, the endless parade of one-hit-wonder musicians that my dad hung out with on a daily basis. "I've crossed paths with at least half the Billboard TOP 40 but that's about it. Katy Perry was really nice," I added as an afterthought.

"I see," Natasha gave me a thoughtful once-over, patting the seat next to her. "So tell me, what do you have in mind for this Flash kid?"

My smile came out sharp and vicious. People tended to underestimate the quiet, quirky loner and I was about to remind them exactly why my kind of kids usually ended up with either millions in their bank accounts or a lengthy criminal record. "I'm going to annihilate any chance he has with having a social life, a girlfriend and I'll be damned if he gets into college without his parents going bankrupt. It goes like this..."

The ominous beginning of my plan attracted everybody in the room, even Loki. If anything, he offered the most constructive advice and the smirk he wore was positively devilish. Steve, Bucky and Thor emerged sometime during the scheming and hastily joined us, identically grim expressions on their faces. We barely managed to get done with our nefarious cackling when a portal appeared once again, Stephen stepping out of it with Tony carrying a sleeping Peter. The boy's head was bandaged, he looked like a mummy.

I stood up, beelining for Tony. "Is Pete okay? Did you call May?"

"He's not concussed but he's taking the day off tomorrow. Yes, I called May. Pete is staying here tonight," Tony looked and sounded like an exhausted, worried parent.

The urge to squee appeared again and I stomped it down with a hard "Good. We made a plan. The fucker is going to choke on his own misery," I gestured to the people sitting in a circle behind me.

Strange snorted.

Furious. I was furious.

Hands on my hips, I swerved towards him, instantly recognizing the ridiculousness of the situation. Here I stood, an eighteen year old high school student, in my fluffy rainbow sweater and denim overalls, staring down a whole grown ass man with magic powers. I digress, my pride won the race against my common sense. "Ex-fucking-cuse you, Voldemort, that's my fucking friend on the line," I seethed, giving him my best death glare.

"Language," Tony barely held together his laughter, looking at the unfolding mess with amusement. Somewhere behind me, somebody chuckled, then I recognised Loki's signature "ehehe" and it kind of went downhill from there. It's a miracle Peter didn't wake up.

"I'd be careful, Strange, she holds up against Stark very well," Loki's quiet compliment only made me preen and puff out my chest in a display of dominance. Stephen's responding eye roll was more fond than annoyed. I counted it as a win.

#tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #bun writes #party favours #repeat after me: PETER PARKER DESERVES BETTER

164 notes · View notes

wylanvnneck · 4 years ago

Text

This 2 part fic was written for the Secret Snusband Gift Giveaway hosted by @jurdannet and @jurdannetrevels for my lovely Knife Wife @lilacs-with-lavender.

Rating: T for Tyrannosaurus

Summary: Inspired by an episode of my favourite Cop TV show, ‘Castle’, in which a bet takes place with pretty high stakes, although the plotline has been tweaked to fit this fandom. My Knife Wife said she loved the Enemies to Lovers trope so that’s what I’ve (tried to) write here and I hope you enjoy the story of Homicide Detectives Jude Duarte and Cardan Greenbriar and their mutual enmity.

Warnings: Not so graphic descriptions of murder and mention of drugs. (Really not sure what I need to tag, so please let me know if I’ve missed something.)

Posted as a Gift on AO3 | Part 2 | Masterlist

Part 1

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

“Victim’s name is Taryn Santorini, a metal sculptor by trade, she was found by her doorman fifteen minutes before we traced the address in Chloe’s hand back to her.”

Detective Jude Duarte looks down at the motionless face of a scared looking brunette, a crimson splatter painting the tiled floor around her lifeless body. The room around her is a mess, clothes scattered everywhere, bed ruffled and unmade and metal figurines placed haphazardly throughout the little apartment.

“Lil, talk to me, what are we looking at?”

Before the white-blonde haired medical examiner crouched on the floor by the body can answer, a smooth dark voice that Jude so detests cuts through the air behind her.

“Why, Duarte, I’d say that the fact that Tara What’s-her-name was shot and killed is rather obvious.” The despicable excuse of a detective steps forward, a smug grin pasted to his face. Cardan Greenbriar, entitled little rich boy, over-confident bastard and sadly, her partner.

Patience, Jude reminds herself, patience was a virtue.

“I meant, as I’m sure Lil knows, with what model was she killed and when?”

Liliver shoots her an amused sympathetic look before turning her gaze back to the victim.

“Looks to be a gun with a 45 caliber, same as the one used to kill Chloe Tatterfell. I’d say Taryn here has been dead for about 12 hours so pretty close to Chloe’s time of death, maybe just a half hour or so afterwards.”

“So chances are it’s the same killer.” Cardan interjects, the smug smile a little less vibrant now.

“Yep. I’ll have to get her back to the morgue so I can do a full inspection, see if I can find anything helpful.”

Jude steps back from the crime scene to give her some space, almost bumping in to the officer taking pictures of the area for later use.

“Thanks, Lil.”

“Just doing my job, sweetie.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Jude clips a glossy picture of their latest victim onto the precinct’s murder board. “Garrett and Van questioned practically all known associates of both Chloe and Taryn and none of them could recognise the other victim. There’s no obvious connection between the two and yet, for some reason they were both killed on the same day, by the same person.”

“And with the same gun.” Cardan is leaning back in his chair, his posture insouciant and his curly black hair falling lazily over his forehead. Surely that was a violation of precinct dress codes? Not that he’d care either way, rule breaker that he was. God knew it was only because of his daddy’s clout that he’d even graduated from the academy in the first place, whilst people like Jude had to work hard and save every penny and fight to get anywhere in the field of Law Enforcement.

“Ok, I’m going to head to the morgue whilst Van and Gare check through the victim’s phones and financials, see if Lil has anything for us.”

“I suppose, being the dutiful partner that I am, I should come with you?” Cardan’s drawl is as irritating as usual and Jude can hardly wait to get out of the proximity of his stupid raven locks and smoldering eyes.

“Please, you’d be doing us both a favour if you didn’t.”

“Aw, come now Jude you know you’d miss me.” He lets out a dramatic sigh as he half heartedly stands from his chair to join her as she speeds by towards the exit and she just barely resists the urge to throttle him.

Lil bustles around her examining room as she adjusts the fluorescent lamps shining down on both the victim’s bodies’.

“So, apart from the type of bullets that killed them, the only similarity that I could find between the two victims is the fact that they both have tattoos.”

Jude raises a brow. “Everyone has tattoos.”

From across the autopsy table Cardan’s eyes gleam as he smirks.

“Oh really? You got some ink on you, Duarte?”

His tone is disbelieving and Jude can’t resist messing with him a little.

She pastes an obviously fake flirtatious smile on her face and drawls in a sugar sweet voice, “Guess you’d have to find that out on your own, Greenbriar.”

She bites at her lip for good measure and thinks once more of how bad she would be at flirting in earnest. Lil certainly couldn’t keep the laughter out of her gray eyes. Cardan, however, has a strange look on his face, one that Jude can’t quite decipher, but she’s pretty sure she’s just one-upped him and she can’t deny the slight sense of triumph that the thought gives her.

She turns her attention back to the victims. “You were saying, Lil?”

“I’m saying that these tattoos seem to have been done by the same artist. Look,” she pulls back the white cloth covering the body of Chloe Tatterfell, gently pushing a strand of brown hair off of her shoulder to reveal the cartoonish character of a rose, inked in with dark black ink.

She then turns to Taryn’s body to reveal a similarly styled tattoo of a mermaid on her wrist. Just as she’s pulling back the cover Jude’s back pocket vibrates and the sound of her plain ringtone travels through the air. Quickly she swipes upwards to answer the call and it’s Garrett.

“Yo, so we looked through the victims’ phone records and found a connection. Both Chloe and Taryn made a phone call on the day that they were killed to the same number, belonging to a Locke McCutchins, he’s got priors including robberies and domestic assault.”

By the time he’s finished speaking she’s already waved a quick goodbye to Lil and turned to walk out the door, not bothering to check if her partner was behind her.

“Alright, text me his address, let’s go pick him up.”

“Locke McCutchins, open up, it’s the NYPD!” Garrett bangs on the door and the force is so strong that the wood vibrates as Jude clutches her pistol in her hand, body flat against the wall of Locke’s apartment with Cardan right beside her.

There’s no answer and the door is broken down as she, Cardan, Garrett and Van file into the room in a practiced motion that’s as familiar to her as breathing.

Right in front of them, sprawled across his couch, lies the dead body of Locke McCutchin, his tawny eyes still open and gazing unseeingly up at his ceiling, a dried red patch visible on his shirt.

Garret drops to the floor beside the couch, his sandy hair falling over his face as he leans over to check Locke’s pulse whilst the rest of them look on after having taken note that the apartment was clear.

“Body’s cold, he’s been dead for hours, entry wound looks to be about the same size as the other victims.”

Jude scrunches her eyebrows as she stands in front of the murderboard for the second time that day.

“So, Chloe Tatterfell, Taryn Santorini and Locke McCuchins were all killed within the span of 24 hours, all with the same gun, presumably by the same killer and yet so far the only connections we’ve found are Taryn’s address that was found written on Chloe’s hand, the phone call from both women to Locke and the similar tattoos on both Chloe and Taryn, but not on Locke.”

“Hmm.” Cardan seems to materialise out of nowhere, carrying a paper cup of what smells like freshly brewed coffee. Jude was convinced that he took his coffee with added alcohol but she had yet to prove it.

“What’s with the glare?” he asks.

“It automatically deploys itself when you're around.”

He scoffs. Twirls his coffee around. Takes a long, slurping sip.

“Hey, Duarte? Don’t get me wrong, I mean, the feeling is mutual, but what exactly is it that makes you despise me so much? I’d like to know so I can make sure to keep doing it.”

Jude barely deliberates over her answer before she responds.

“Being an overly cocky, obnoxious jerk who has only managed to get this far thanks to his Daddy’s fat purse will definitely be the best way to make me hate you, trust me.”

He grins but there’s no humour in the curve of his sensual lips, his eyes are cold metal.

“You think that the only reason I’m a detective is because of my father?”

“Yup.” She makes sure to add plenty of emphasis to that one word.

Cardan opens his mouth as if to speak, stops, presses his lips together so hard that they turn pale before the colour returns to them when a slow smile spreads across his face, this time full of humour, but the decidedly darker kind.

“Let’s make a bet. If you can figure out what the connection between our three victims is before I do, I’ll go right up to Captain Madoc myself and request a change of partners so you can be rid of my ‘overly cocky, obnoxious’ self. Deal?”

He was extending a challenge and Jude was never one to back down from those. Besides, the chance to be rid of him with no cost to herself or her reputation was too good to pass up on. Still, there had to be a catch, with Cardan, there was always a catch.

“And on the complete off-chance that you figure it out first? What happens then?”

“If I figure it out first...you have to come with me as my date to this party that my dad’s having in a couple days.”

Those last few words come out in a rush and Jude has to take a moment to decipher their meaning. Followed by another moment to wonder if she’d somehow completely misunderstood what he’d said.

“You want me to what?”

“Be my date to a party. Honestly Duarte, do you have any idea how many women would jump at this opportunity?” His tone is disgustingly nonchalant.

“I-” she struggles to find the words. “Take one of them then! Don’t you have a girlfriend, Nicasia or something like that? Blue hair and eyes? High pitched voice? Talks a lot about how much she gets seasick?”

“You know, for someone who’s only met Nicasia once you do remember quite a bit about her.” His steady gaze on her is intense.

For some incorrigible reason Jude has to resist the urge to flush.

“I’m a detective. It’s my job to study people.”

“Right. Sadly, Nicasia and I are no longer together, if we ever were. I got bored. Hence, why I need a date.”

“I’m sure you could just take one of your scores of female admirers, you don’t need me.”

“Is that jealousy that I detect in your voice?”

“Cardan.”

“Look, the point is, I can’t be bothered having to deal with yet another simpering female who thinks that one night on my arm means a promise to a life-long relationship complete with marriage, a fancy mansion and exactly 2.5 kids. All I want is a companion for one night so I don’t get hounded by my mother for not having a girlfriend by which she can procure some grandchildren.”

“Oh so now you want me to be your fake girlfriend?”

He rolls his eyes up at the ceiling and she fights the urge to slap him.

“It’s just for one night! Besides, I thought me winning was barely even a possibility to you.”

She makes a noise at the back of her throat. “It is.”

“Then I don’t see what the problem is. Do we have a deal, or not?” He holds out his hand, sculpted eyebrows raised in confrontation.

She doesn’t really think he has much of a chance of figuring it out before her, but he had admittedly also proven adept at figuring certain things out in previous cases so there was definitely no certainty that he wouldn’t win, for all her bravado. Yet, her competitive nature couldn’t bear the thought of surrendering, so she pushes her unease aside and grips his hand in a firm shake.

“Deal.”

There’s an awkward moment when he takes a little too long to release her hand from his grip. Once he finally does, the rather pointy tips of his ears reddening, they both turn back to the murder board and the view of their murder time line and crime scene pictures, furiously trying to connect the dots in their heads.

A random thought intrudes in her brain.

"Wait, what if Garrett and Van figure it out before we do?”

As one, she and Cardan both turn towards the opposite side of the office where the two officers in question sat in front of their computers.

Van was typing in data on his computer, eyes glazing over and the tuft of black hair atop his head trembling whilst Garrett, or, The Ghost - as he was sometimes called thanks to his tendency to take months before answering non-work related messages - stood eating glazed donuts with one hand and speaking to someone on the phone held in the other. Jude loved the both of them but she had to admit that they didn’t exactly paint the most inspiring picture.

Once again she and Cardan are in sync when they promptly turn back towards the murderboard and proclaim, “Nah.”

Van’s excitement is clearly written on his face when he walks straight up to Jude’s desk the moment she arrives at the precinct the next morning, slamming down a manila folder with the NYPD crest printed on it onto her neatly arranged table top.

Immediately she reaches out to open it, desperate for a break in the case that would not only put a three time killer behind bars but also ensure that she herelf wouldn’t commit murder if she lost the bet and had to pretend to be Cardan’s girlfriend for a night. The thought makes her want to shudder.

“So, I was looking into all of our victim’s financials and I noticed an anomaly. Two weeks ago on the 7th they each deposited 95 hundred dollars into their savings accounts, but we’ve got no way of tracing the money back because the amount is under the IRS’s investigative limit” Van takes a quick pause before continuing, “but that’s not all, both Taryn and Chloe have credit card charges for small amounts at a tattoo place called Fair Folk Inks down in Queens.”

“Great, that’d be the place where they both got tattoos, I’ll go down there and ask the owner a couple questions, thanks Van.” She puts the sheaf of financial accounts back into the folder and takes a quick swig of her usual morning coffee, black, no sugar before preparing to head out once more.

“Going somewhere, partner?”

She’d bumped straight into Cardan when stepping into the elevator and she lets out a small groan of frustration as she steps back from his sturdy form. He looks annoyingly chipper, usual cocky smile in place and laughter in his tone as he looks down at her slightly shorter self. His cologne is strong and emanates the scent of the woods and sunlight in the small elevator. The woods and sunlight? Clearly foregoing the rest of her morning coffee hadn’t been a good idea.

She’d thought she could make it out of the building before he finally arrived, necessitating in having to take him along as well, but clearly fate had other ideas.

“Tattoo parlour. Queens,” she grits out.

“Let’s go then,” his tone is sickly sweet.

“Hi there, you guys lookin’ to get inked?” asks the pink haired girl behind the counter in fishnet tights and a tank top, looking up from where she is perched on a stool behind the counter when she hears them enter.

The parlour itself is shiny and white, the smooth metal counter and two spaced out black leather tattoo chairs complete with wheeled stools are the only pieces of furniture in the small space. Mounted on the walls are designs, each of them evoking a sense of fantasy. A pixie there, a selkie here, an ornate dragon, all staring right back at Jude as she takes in their surroundings. She takes note of the fact that the pictures staring back at her were very reminiscent of Chloe and Taryn’s tattoos, solidifying her suspicion that this was where they had got them done.

Before she has time to explain the reason for their visit, Cardan pipes up.

“You know, I’ve been thinking of getting one of a slithering snake, maybe across my back? I believe it would add to my already abundant sex appea-”

“Actually,” Jude cuts him off with her most scathing glare, to which he irritatingly responds with a grin. “We’re here on official business, NYPD, we need to speak with the owner of this establishment.” She holds up the badge that she’s just extracted from her plain black wallet as she speaks.

“That would be Vivi, hang tight a sec I’ll go get her.” With a sway of her hips Heather trounces off behind a curtained section at the back of the parlour.

Unable to stand still for even a few moments, her partner has already wandered over to the corner of the room, pointing at a pinned up design, ““That goblin over there reminds me of Van.”

She ignores him.

“Oh come on Duarte, you have to admit, there’s a definite resemblance.”

She spares the quickest of glances at the design and it’s true, there’s a striking similarity, but she isn’t about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing so she simply makes a non-committal grunt of recognition.

“Tell me, are you always this tightly wound or is it just for the majority of your day?”

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows have inadvertently traveled upwards on her face and she can’t believe he has the audacity to say what he just did, although really, she shouldn’t be so surprised.

“Come on Duarte, we’ve been partners for quite a while now and I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you laugh.” He’s standing a few feet away from her, his expression serious, not backing down.

“It’s called being professional.” She can feel the muscles working in her face as she hisses out the words through gritted teeth, blood pounding furiously.

“Ahem.” She whirls around to find a tall bronze haired woman with striking cat-like eyes that were currently meeting her gaze wearing a lazy look of amusement.

“Heather said there were some policemen who wanted to ask me some questions?”

Jude cannot believe that she had just gotten so sidetracked by her insolent partner that she’d forgotten why she was currently standing in the middle of a Tattoo parlour in Queens, clutching a set of regular sized close ups of three now dead people. She tamps down the irritation at her own actions as she thrusts out the photos in front of the woman facing her, Vivi, the pink haired girl had said.

“Yes, ma’am, do you recognize these people?”

She watches intently as Vivi carefully peruses the pictures before answering, “I know the two girls, Taryn and Chloe, we’re friends, I’ve even tattooed the both of them. I’m not really sure who he is.”

“Are you sure you don’t know him? Look carefully.” Cardan is all business now, stepping up to Vivi.

“I’m sure.” Vivi’s tone is almost defiant, daring him to question her again.

“You said that you were friends with the girls, how close were you?”

“They came into the tattoo parlour at the same time about a month ago and we started up a conversation, we exchanged numbers and would meet up for a drink from time to time.”

“Did they ever meet up with just each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

“Can you think of any reason as to why they’d both be killed by the same person?”

“They’re...they’re dead?”

Jude had intentionally asked the question in a way that would require a reaction and she wasn’t sure that she was entirely convinced by the shocked undertone of Vivi’s voice.

“I’m afraid so, ma’am.”

“She’s hiding something.” Once again Jude is back in front of the murderboard, furiously capping and uncapping a whiteboard marker as her mind whirls. She’s full of nervous energy, on the brink of a precipice and she wants nothing more than to be able to push herself off of it.

“Agreed.” Cardan is pacing the floor between her and the murder board and his posture indicates that he’s just as worked up as she is.

“But what I can’t understand is why she would kill two of her acquaintances plus a random vending machine operator, I mean, there’s no clear motive.” She’s barely conscious of the slight pain that tingles as she worries at her bottom lip.

Cardan halts in front of the board, takes a hard look at the scrawled timeline on it before once more resuming his brisk walk.

“And what the hell is the connection between these three victims? They lived in opposite neighbourhoods, worked in completely different areas and fields, never seemed to have been in the same place at the same time and yet somehow they were killed by the same hand. Also, where did all that money come from?”

His phone chooses precisely that moment to start ringing and the sound of ‘Horns’ by Bryce Fox cuts through the tension.

“It’s Liliver,” he mouths as he swipes upwards to answer and puts the medical examiner on speaker phone.

“You got something for us Lil?’

“You bet I do. I had scraps from the victims’ clothings tested to try and find a common link. What I found were traces of bleach, acetone, sodium chloride and ammonia.”

“Drugs. They were making drugs. That would explain all the money.” Jude is burning and luminescent with victory, until Lili’s next words cut her down.

“It’s not drugs.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because of what isn’t there. If your vics were making drugs, there’d need to be a couple more ingredients. That being said, they were definitely up to something.”

She lets out a sigh of defeat. “Thanks, Lil.”

Cardan hangs up before bringing his fingers up to his temples, massaging the sides of his head as he burns a hole into the board in front of him.

Jude bites back a scream. “This is like the start of a bad joke, a teacher, a sculptor and a vending machine operator walk into a tattoo parlour…”

He scoffs, “Yeah, except we don’t really have a punchline.”

“Other than ‘they made a bunch of money and got themselves killed.’”

There’s a lull in the air and the frustration is palpable. There was so much more than just their bet at stake here, there was the need for justice for these three victims, who regardless of their crimes likely didn’t deserve what had befallen them. Besides, there was no way that they could let a ruthless killer roam the streets freely.

Suddenly, Cardan whirls around to face her, once again bringing his pacing to an abrupt stop, with a speed to rival that of the animal that was his tattoo inspiration.

“Made a bunch of money,” he repeats.

He sounds like he’s just jumped off of the precipice. She, on the other hand, remained firmly mounted to the ground.

“What?”

“A sculptor who works with metal, a chemist and a vending machine operator...I know what they were up to.”

Slowly, the light starts to dawn on her and her pulse speeds up. Yes, she thinks.

“Think about it, when counterfeiting money, what’s the biggest problem you face? Finding the paper,” he continues.

“And a vending machine operator would have an endless supply of one dollar billls!”

“Exactly, then the chemist would come in, using the chemicals that were found on the vic’s bodies to white wash those bills.”

“And then the sculptor would be able to fashion a set of metal plates with which to type in fake serial numbers’ so they can get larger denominations of money…”

“Right! So, plates, paper, there’s just one missing ingredient.”

Beaming smiles break out on both their faces when, in unison they reach the same conclusion.

The 12th Precinct’s interrogation room had contained many suspects from the time it was built. Some were innocent and some were guilty, but there was no doubt in both Jude and Cardan’s minds that the feline woman currently seated across from them with her legs up on the table was one hundred percent guilty.

“So you think you’ve figured it all out, huh?” Vivi’s drawl is deceptively flippant.

“I think so.” Jude answers calmly. “For instance, we’ve figured out that you were involved in and likely the mastermind behind a counterfeiting operation that raked in a substantial amount of money. You provided the last ingredient needed, the ink from your tattoo parlour stocks that was used to print on the bills.”

Cardan leans forward. “We’ve also surmised that you killed your partners in said operation; Taryn Santorini and Chloe Tatterfell, both of whom you met through your tattoo parlour, just like you said.”

“And our third victim, Locke McCutchins? Yeah, we know he was your cousin, once removed on your mother’s side wasn’t it? A distant enough relationship for you to not be flagged when checking his family, but close enough for you to enlist him in your scheme so you had access to vending machine bills.” Jude continues, she and Cardan having perfected the art of interrogating together ages ago, their tactics working smoothly together alongside each other.

Vivienne sneers. “So what? You have no proof.”

“On the contrary, ma’am, we do. You neglected to hide the metal plates that you got Taryn to make for you in a place that wasn’t under a loose floorboard of your room, easily found with the aid of a search warrant.” Cardan smiles.

“You also tripped up when you stored your used gun with matching ballistics to the weapon that killed our victims in the same place as the plates.” Cardan’s smile is copied on Jude’s face.

Vivi’s skin pales and her cat’s eyes narrow into slits as she bangs the table, hard, before slouching back in the metal chair, the fight leaving her.

“Well, I suppose the jig is up, as they say,” she drawls.

Satisfied, Jude stands up and gathers the notepad and pen that she’d left on the desk and then bends over the interrogation table to meet Vivi’s gaze.

“What I can’t understand, though, is why? Why would you kill them if you’d already paid them?”

The Accused smirks. “It was all that idiot Lockes’s fault. He’d gotten himself into debt with some mob shark and needed more dough to bail his sorry self out. I wasn’t about to give it, he had his cut and that was all. But then, he threatened to go to the cops and tell them about what we did. Couldn’t let that happen, so I figured I’d kill ‘em all of. Just to be safe.”

The casual way in which she speaks of her deeds chills Jude to the bone. Wordlessly, she turns her back on yet another cold hearted murderer and exits the room with Cardan right behind her.

They come to a stop in front of the now empty murderboard, its surface shiny and white, devoid of words, but not for long. There was always a murder happening somewhere or the other, Jude had been a detective long enough to know that.

“So, now that Vivienne Insmire, tattoo artist, mastermind and ink supplier of counterfeiting operations and killer of ‘friends’ and distant male cousins is safely behind bars, I think you and I have a certain matter to settle, Duarte.”

She’d been trying hard to avoid this moment all day, pushing back thoughts of her close defeat and what its consequences would be. It seemed like now, she'd run out of time. She gulps.

“I suppose-” she almost can’t bring herself to say the words, “I suppose you won our bet, then.”

“Yup.” He’s not even trying to hide his gloating, “and you know what that means.”

The noise she emits is one that is resigned. She knows what’s coming.

“I’ll pick you up at eight tomorrow.”

“Or I could just take a ca-”

“Don’t be late, Duarte,” he calls over his shoulder as he leisurely strolls towards the precinct exit, slinging his leather jacket over his shoulder.

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

If you’ve made it all the way down here, congrats! Here’s a link for part 2.

Tagging the lovely people on my short but treasured TFOTA taglist; @cupcakesandkittens (who helped immensely during the writing of this fic and who suggested adding in the interrogation scene❤) and my very own talented Secret Snusband, @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

Please let me know if you’d like to be added to or taken off of my taglist💕

#anyways Liles I hope you enjoyed!#dd writes #secretsnusband #tfota fanfic #the folk of the air fanfiction #the folk of the air #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #castle #cop au #enemies to lovers #i would also like to say #that i absolutely love vivienne duarte #but she was also badass enough to make a murderer #and i couldn't resist #hopefully this first part was intriguing #and the second part is cheesy in all the right ways #jurdannet #jurdannet revels

63 notes · View notes

sxfterhearts · 4 years ago

Text

healed

31. [12:19 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of past violence, injuries, physical abuse

➳ word count: 2,725 words

➳ summary: 31. “Don’t worry about me,”

➳ author's note: this is it, the final part of this series! i hope it doesn’t let you down 😭😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts on this series, what you liked/didn’t like, and whether you’d like future drabbles in this universe!! (i’m tempted, tbh) that’s all from me, please please enjoy, lovely readers 🥰 (credits to @jinyoungot7 for this wonderful gif that kills me everytime)

wounded // scarred // healed

A deep inhale made you giddy with joy. The familiar, sweet scent of this morning’s light drizzle lingered in the air. Although the weather was a bit too humid for your liking, you gratefully savoured the smell that filled your lungs. For some reason, being outside in the aftermath of a downpour always brought you back to that wooden counter of your parents’ restaurant. You used to watch the rain blanket the outside world from the inside as you soaked and drowned yourself in your daydreams. You were a foolish teenager back then, uncertain of the paths you would take and anxious of the future. Getting your heart broken by the one and only Kim Yugyeom was just the icing on the cake.

It was fair to say that a lot had changed since then. In the span of three years, you graduated high school, moved out of that tiny neighbourhood in Namyangju, rented a small studio apartment in Seoul and became a proud Veterinary Science student of Seoul National University.

Yet, you couldn’t help but to admit that while you had progressed into the next chapter of your life, some things will always remain the same. Like how your best friend, Yeeun, never missed out on an opportunity to lecture you over the phone from the comforts of her Busan home. You lifted the device away from your ears to save them from further damage, just as the leash of the cream Pomeranian in your care, Daisy, tugged you forwards, towards a passing bicycle. You urged the dog away from the edge of the sidewalk with a solid ‘No’, which she thankfully obeyed.

“I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything special the week before uni reopens! I mean, hello, we’re going to be spending the next twelve weeks slaving away at our desks, don’t you want to do something fun?” Yeeun shrieked in disbelief. You could imagine her shaking her head at you with that resigned look on her face, the one that signalled she had already given up trying to change your mind.

“Here, girl.” You whispered as softly as you could, trying to grab Daisy’s attention and guide her back to the adoption centre-cum-café, her temporary home. “This is fun and special, Eun. You of all people should know just how special it is to help out these cute furry little babies!”

“More like furry little rascals.” She muttered under her breath. “Come on, Y/N. I get that you’re really passionate about animals and all but just think about it – you’ll be facing these creatures for the rest of your life. You should really try something new once in a while. You know, go drinking or clubbing like a normal uni student. Besides, didn’t you just visit the centre last month for your birthday?”

She was right. You did make the one-hour trip to the adoption café on the morning of your birthday. Ever since that birthday three years ago, you always made it a point to celebrate by being in the presence of a furry companion. Taking care of another living creature, going on walks with them and picking up after them helped you to take your mind off that painful sixteenth birthday when you found out he was leaving. It became your annual ritual.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the small lump triggered by those memories. “Yeah, yeah I did. I… Did I tell you about the dog that I took care of that day?”

Yeeun took a large bite of her favourite takeaway noodles before letting out a muffled “No, what about it?”

“He was… Well, he was a tiny black Pomeranian puppy, not more than four months old. He was cheerful and energetic, couldn’t wait to go on his walk.” You smiled sadly at the thought.

“Yeah…? And?”

“He reminded me so much of Charcoal. You know, the black puppy from your mum’s shelter? I walked Charcoal with him three years ago.”

“Oh, him.” Yeeun grumbled at the mention of Yugyeom.

You ignored the obvious disapproval in her tone. “Yeah, the thing is I really, really, really liked this puppy, and I was even thinking about adopting him for good. I got everything set up in my place, got the pee mats, the dog food, everything, but I came in this morning and he was gone.”

Yeeun hummed over the phone. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you and the puppy just weren’t meant to be.” She said, trying her best to comfort you about the adoption that fell through. “Do you still think of him? Kim Yugyeom?” Yeeun asked gently.

You sighed, catching a brief glimpse of your reflection on the windows of a cold noodle restaurant a few doors down from the adoption centre. To this day, you couldn’t enjoy a bowl of naengmyeon without your mind wandering to the boy. “Not often. Honestly, Eun, every time I think I’ve forgotten him, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and he’ll just creep back into my head.”

“You know what they always say, darling. You never really forget your first love.”

You mulled over her words as you rounded the corner towards the adoption centre, Daisy trotting a few paces in front of you. “I wouldn’t call it love, per se, it’s just-”

“Wait, hold that thought,” She interrupted. “I’m sorry honey, the boyfriend is at the door. Do you mind if we continue this later?”

“Yeah, sure, I need to go too.” You stood at the entrance of the centre, reluctant to go in and part ways with Daisy. The dog came to a rest by your feet, huddling close. “Thanks for calling and reminding me of my poor life choices!” You said, full of sarcasm.

“Hey, that’s my duty as your best friend, don’t mention it.” She chuckled. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said. Go live a little, okay? You’ve already wasted too much time on Kim Yugyeom.”

“Yeah, I will.” You mumbled, agreeing with her words. “Go enjoy yourself with the boyfriend. Not too much though, and spare me the details. Talk next time!”

The two of you bid each other farewell and ended the call. Miraculously, talking to Yeeun made your chest a little lighter. Amongst countless other things, she had been there for you during Yugyeom’s abrupt departure and the initial stages of denial. She helped you draft, edit, and re-edit the numerous emails you sent to the boy, the only form of communication between you two for the first six months. She hugged you close and let you sulk on her shoulder when the emails suddenly stopped seven months after he left for Incheon. You were beyond grateful to have her as a voice of reason amongst your irrational thoughts; someone to walk with you hand in hand through the storms of life.

You made a mental note to ask your mother to send Yeeun a parcel of her prized kimchi as part of next month’s delivery. The girl never failed to mention how much she missed your parent’s cooking whenever the two of you talked on the phone.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched bark travelled across the street. You instinctively tightened your hold on Daisy’s leash, wary of the arrival of another canine. Cautiously, you watched as a four-legged, black ball of fur whizzed past the empty street, arriving before you and Daisy in a matter of seconds. As the dog grew closer and closer, recognition flashed across your mind as you noticed the dog’s distinctive white collar, a stark contrast to his coal black fur. The dog you intended to adopt this morning was wagging his tail and panting by your feet, letting out occasional playful barks at Daisy, his former neighbour. You bent down, arm reaching out to get a feel for his oh-so-soft fur–

“Dal!” A male voice, bright and awfully familiar, exclaimed between heavy breaths. “Dal, slow down, big boy! Daddy can’t…” The voice died down a notch, reducing to a whisper as its owner’s feet entered your line of sight. His entire body shaded your crouched figure from the afternoon sunshine that peeked through the clouds. “Catch up.”

A moment of silence ensued as your eyes panned upwards, scanning a pair of long legs covered in ripped jeans, then a yellow plaid shirt that was haphazardly tucked in, right up to the owner’s face. You couldn’t help the sharp gasp leaving your lips.

Standing before you was none other than Kim Yugyeom himself. His features were more defined than ever, his wavy hair a silvery shade of platinum blonde and his ears adorned with a pair of silver hoop earrings. A single stainless-steel drop earring dangled from his earlobe, its bottom decorated with a half-crescent moon and a star. You stood there and stared at the boy you once knew, now a fine young man, just taking him in. You noticed the lack of cuts and scars on his unblemished, fully healed face. You spotted the beauty mark right under his right eye, standing out against his fair skin. You watched, mesmerised, as his lips twitched to form a slightly sheepish grin, while the tips of his ears burned and glowed into a striking shade of cherry red. Yugyeom’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his gaze lingering on your face for a few stretched out seconds before wandering away, then returning back.

Him… It’s him… He’s here, in Seoul? But I thought he was supposed to be in Incheon, with Mark. What is he doing here? And how did he…? Your never-ending stream of thoughts swirled inside your head at an alarming rate, and you felt the onset of a splitting headache crawl up your temples.

“There you are, Y/N.” Yugyeom said finally, releasing a satisfied sigh and an airy laugh. He didn’t seem nearly half as surprised as you felt under these unlikely circumstances. In fact, you thought that the expression he wore on his face morphed into one of relief instead. “After so long, I finally found you.” He bent down to scoop the black puppy into his arms, leaving you utterly stunned. Before your mind could process the meaning behind his words, however, he suggested, “Let’s talk inside,”, gesturing towards the entrance of the adoption café.

You gave him a meek nod, not daring to let out a sound on the off chance that you would stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself. With the manners of a gentleman, Yugyeom held the door open for you and waited patiently as you ushered an excited Daisy into the café filled with her furry friends. He took confident, quick strides towards the barista standing behind the counter, much like the first time he had walked into your parents’ restaurant. The way he carried himself, with an air of calm coolness, had not changed at all. You followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with his bigger steps.

“Hello, noona.” He greeted the lady, friendly and warm. “Can I please get an Iced Choco and…?” Yugyeom turned to you expectantly.

“Uh…” You started, soft and uncertain. “A peach iced tea, please.”

“No longer a coffee addict, huh?” He teased, unable to contain his toothy smile. Yugyeom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held out his card to pay. It was then that you noticed, quite belatedly, the yellow Rilakuma plaster wrapped tightly around his left index finger.

Your mind began to race. You were unbelievably happy that even after three years, he still stuck to the same brand of bandages, but at the same time, fear and anxiety gnawed and scratched against your chest. All this time, was it still happening? You wondered silently. Surely… “What’s… What’s with your,” You gestured vaguely towards his appendages. “Your finger?” You squeaked.

“Ah,” Yugyeom glanced briefly towards the yellow plaster, paying it little to no mind. “Come, sit down first, okay?”

“No,” You replied with a firm tone that you rarely used. You were a little taken aback yourself. “I’ve spent the past three years worried sick about you. Don’t you at least owe me an explanation about your most recent injury?”

Yugyeom sensed your insistence and determination, knowing that there really was no use trying to convince you otherwise. “It’s nothing to worry about, Y/N, trust me, I’ll show-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see.”

“Look, it’s just a small cut, okay?” You raised an eyebrow at his description. From memory, his definition of a small cut was miles apart from yours. He took a step closer, hoping to persuade you. “Here,” Yugyeom peeled away the sticky fabric with little difficulty, revealing a thin slit that already closed up. “See? It’s tiny. I was cooking the other day and the knife just sort of slipped and nicked my finger. I told you, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you were unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. “Kim Yugyeom? Cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Perhaps not the safest…” He admitted with an embarrassed rub of his neck, leading you towards an empty table by the windows. “I just really, really missed your mother’s food. Her naengmyeon especially. I’ve tasted every single naengmyeon in Incheon and Seoul and honestly, nothing comes close. I even tried to cook it myself but, well… You can guess how that turned out.”

“What made you think that your naengmyeon could be better than a restaurant’s?” You questioned jokingly, earning yourself a faked wince of pain from Yugyeom as he clutched the right side of his chest, the wrong side.

After that, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out of your mouths. He told you about how he caught a glimpse of your adoption papers during his interview for Dalkyum, the black puppy, and recognised your photo. He confessed that he was initially drawn to Dalkyum due to his sheer resemblance to Charcoal, to which you agreed wholeheartedly. He moved to Seoul late last year to study Fine Arts at the Korea National University of Arts, and you revealed that you were studying to become a vet. He explained how half a year after moving to Incheon, Mark had accidentally downloaded a virus onto their shared laptop while gaming, rendering it broken beyond repair. He didn’t write down your email address and thanks to his goldfish memory, he forgot the entire string of letters once Mark found a replacement.

It seemed like the more you talked to Yugyeom, the more you felt the icy shards of pain and sorrow around your heart melt away. Although, that could probably be because he was looking at you with the brightest of expressions, his mouth permanently fixed into a wide, million-watt smile.

“What do you think? Shall we start over?” You asked after a lull in the conversation, taking a sip of the soothing, saccharine liquid.

“No, I’d rather we pick up where we left off, but with a proper introduction.” He extended his arm for you to shake, which you did with a light scoff and an upturn of your lips. “Hello, my name is Kim, Yu, Gyeom. Kim for gold, Yu, which means to have, and Gyeom, as in humble or modest. It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N. You look beautiful today, as always. Did you know that? I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you, but I guess some things never change.”

“I… What…?” You sputtered hopelessly, reigniting the butterflies in your stomach. “Yugyeom, I’m literally in an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”

“There’s another thing that never changed, which unfortunately was also out of my control.”

“Oh no, what else, Kim?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this so late, Y/N, but sadly, you were and are my first love. And you see, the thing about first loves is that no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t-”

“Forget them.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I tried.”

“Yeah, I tried too, so hard. I guess you weren’t meant to be forgotten. Or I guess we weren’t meant to forget each other.”

“First loves stick with you like a scar that can never be fully healed.”

“Wow, look at you, Kim! I’m impressed, you’ve become so poetic.”

“From now on, I’ll only write poems for you.”

104 notes · View notes

cxmetery-gates · 4 years ago

Text

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS - DARK!TOM HIDDLESTON

CHAPTER ONE: FAKING IT

SUMMARY: Lynn Moore dreads the beginning of her greatest fear: the first day of senior year. WORD COUNT: 2.3k NOTE: Get ready for typical teenager angst. Let’s all bully Lynn. WARNINGS: dark!tom hiddleston, teacher!tom hiddleston

OBSESSIVE TEACHINGS MASTERLIST

JUST LIKE EVERY YEAR AROUND the middle of August, my mom tells me the same advice; have a good first day. Of course, most mothers, fathers, or whoever tell their child this, but it's as pointless as a circle. Whoever has a fantastic first day of school? There are new teachers to impress, you're stuck with the same bunch of losers you sit with at lunch, and there are more jerks and morons to pick on you, despite the status quo you fall under. High school is frankly really awful all the way around and there's no way someone can deny or even try to argue that. These are the four years of utter hell and we're all dying to get out. I've stepped through those heavy doors, resembling the gates of hell, on a first day three times now. My anger and hatred have only been fueled rather than dying down. I'm sure nothing will ever change.

"Don't forget--" Mom tries to tell me from the porch in sweats and a maroon t-shirt. Her unnatural dirty blonde hair piled on the top of her head with an old red clip. There are tears welling in her eyes, seeing her only child almost grown up. I have one last year of school and mere months until I'm an adult. For me, it may pass by far too slow, but I bet it's a whole different story for her. In all honesty, it's ridiculous that the woman is so upset and not to mention annoying. I have done this routine twelve times now, for Christ sake, she should get a grip on herself by now. I don't mean to belittle my mother but one of her greatest achievements is being able to replicate every single stereotype women have, including having no control over her emotions. An outsider looking in may say I'm a bit to harsh. All I can say to that is no one has loved with her for almost eighteen years like I have.

"I got it!" I yell against the wind as it smacks my face while I walk across the grass. "Christ on a bike," I curse tossing my messy light brown hair from my field of vision.

The bus would take another five minutes to get the corner, but I'd like to not look stupid on my first day by running to catch up with the metal rectangle of devilry Peter Parker style. Well, maybe it would turn into an interesting story at the least. Spiderman is my favorite superhero of all time after all. Despite this, I only allow an angry face to part my path. It's totally fake but faking it is the only way to survive.

Down at the intersection, there are already kids waiting. I think it's safe to assume that all of the puberty-sicken teenagers are freshmen or sophomores since most junior and seniors are still asleep at this early hour, knowing the good majority are able to drive. I take a good look at all of them. The fact that they find throwing bits of gravel at squirrels or birds makes me want to go over and smack them upside the head. That thought crosses my mind a lot. The world is so full of morons; it's hard to pick out which ones are actually tolerable. They're almost as bad as kids in letterman jackets with expensive sports cars. Those fuckers are the worst. All they care about is their ego and how much money they can wave around coming right from mommy and daddy's wallet.

Take the kid in the striped shirt tucked into his hand-me-down jeans. He looks like a nice kid; after all, he's got nothing to brag about. His parents are probably office workers or maybe nothing too difficult. Nothing too important. That's all we are, right? I mean, once we're dead and gone. No one is gonna care what car you drove or what brand your plain white shirt is. People who think they're hotshots or something special are the real morons.

Besides, who thinks it's cool to spend thirty bucks on a t-shirt?

An old car passes, a teenage girl in my grade sits in the driver's seat. I sort of duck out of the way. Not James Bond-like, but I move my already shitty hair in front of my face as if it's going to help hide my identity. The chick probably didn't even see me. I watch the car drive on, kinda imagining what sort of car I would drive once I get one. I suppose I would have to learn first. I personally am not a fan of getting behind the wheel. Hell, I can't even ride a bike without falling over. I'd rather move to a large city and order cabs to get me places. They seem more convenient and, if you get in a wreck, it's not your fault and it's not your money coming out of pocket. No car equals more money. Then again, no car also is equivalent to no freedom and taxis and Uber's can get expensive. It seems like each idea is flawed these days.

Upon scanning the area again— this time ignoring the idiots— I notice only one person who seems excited out of the group. Her dark brown hair and dark skin contrast to the majority of our town, including those waiting nearby. Her curled hair bounces with each stride she takes, happier than the step prior.

Some say it's strange that the girl and I are such good friends. You don't see God and Satan going out and having coffee every weekend or anything.

"What's got you in a good mood?" I question as I readjust my dark blue shirt underneath the flannel. Flannels are my favorite personal quirk. I own at least fifty, most being cool or dark colors. I don't have an obsession; just an interest that I care way too much about. Flannels are to Lynn Moore as controversy is to famous influencers. Looking back up, my eyebrow is still raised. I'm shocked to see her here, assuming her parents would have given her a lift. After a second, it dawned on me that this, riding the bus to school, was her punishment for getting into an accident she won't take responsibility for.

Posting memes and vines references are fun and all, but doing it while going 60 down a highway isn't the smartest. Forgive me for not following the strict millennial handbook but I don't actually want to die nor do I want my friends to.

My best friend, Ellie Graves, gives a small glare. "Why does it always seem like you're on your period?" I shrug my shoulders, and played with the wire choker I always wore. As my fingers slip underneath the necklace, it is evident how to lose it has gotten since I bought it a few months ago. I make a mental note to take a quick trip to the shopping side of the internet sometime soon.

I click my tongue before answering. "Probably because I'm closer to hell than you are," I say, referring to my obvious lack of height. I'm only five feet and just barely three inches off the ground while Ellie is at least five feet and seven inches. Personally I think we would make a cute couple given our attitudes and the extremities of our heights, except for the fact that dearest Ellie is not interested in people other than men. What a party pooper. For me, anyway. "But lets do our best to not reinforce stereotypes," I say referring to her comment.

She nods her head. "Yes, mother." I snort at her sass, leaning my body weight onto my right leg. "But hey! We have one year left! That's something to be excited about, am I right?"

Yes, I would say she is right. Freshmen, sophomore, and the dragged out junior year have come and passed, full of useless information and embarrassing memories with it. It's mostly embarrassing if I have to be honest. School isn't my thing, however falling up and down the main set of stairs apparently is. Who knew?

"Yeah, I suppose so. At least we're considered adults now," I reply trying to find some positive about the situation.

Ellie begins to lightly laugh, "True. That's kinda a scary thought, though." Her body shudders, either because a breeze just blew passed or out of what she just said.

The age of freedom is so close, I can nearly touch it. Despite my longing to finally buy a lottery ticket and spray paint, the fear of adulthood gnaws at the back of my mind. With eighteen comes responsibility, something I lack to a high degree. I muse the idea of getting a degree of irresponsibility. However, I don't think such diploma could help me get into a creative writing career.

I make a thinking face and bring my shoulders to my ears preparing for an exaggerated response. "Well, you aren't wrong," I reply in a forced high pitch noise, catching the attention of the guys. Now I notice they are all matching in basketball shorts and a jacket. Men's fashion, ladies and gents. Ellie chuckles at my utter dorkiness while I continue to make some weird face I'm sure she will get a picture of sometime within the next few seconds.

It's crazy how time is able to fly. Just last week, so it seems, the outgoing, beaming chick I have as a best friend and I were in third grade, the year I moved to a new house, a different school, and a very different town. Although my eight-year-old-self hated it at the time, I'm glad I left the northern state of Maine, all the way across to the midwest. That is if you consider southern Missouri part of the midwest. If I hadn't, who would have the privilege of being my first smack in the face? Or first sleepover (with an actual girl)? Who knows, and I honestly wouldn't like to. Ellie's my best friend; I would be dead if she didn't have my back. And I'm honestly positive she would say the same about her tiny best pal.

Little time passes after the picture was indeed taken and posted on Elle's Snapchat before an ugly shade of yellowish-orange appears entering the neighborhood. Ellie is practically fidgeting, fighting the urge to run up the bus even if it is some distance away. My eyes roll trying to not say anything to kill her spirit but I do let out an accidental groan as its loud hum draws nearer. The bus came to a screeching halt and I already want to turn on my heel and head home. When I step on, I notice there is a new driver this year. After Ellie got her license and could legally drive me around, I never bothered with the bus unless I needed space or she was busy, which was hardly ever. Ellie and I mostly spend our time together with our group of friends. Despite this, I still easily took notice of a different person in the seat. Instead of a balding old man with a face like alligator skin, a woman sat in the brown leather seat and looks roughly in her forties. She, like all of us except for Ellie, looks tired but fakes a smile anyways. The same rules apply; middle school and junior high in the front and high school in the back. It seems as if sitting in the back always made you cool of some sort. Every time a kid got away with it in middle school, he or she was automatically the bad kid, the cool kid, or the king of the bus. God, how stupid is that theory? These thoughts remind me how annoying and stupid we all were at ten and eleven years old. I'm sure if I had a duplicate of myself at that age, I'd shoot either one of us to cease me from the utter pain.

Instead of going all the way to the back, I turn to sit in the seat half way down the aisle while plunging in an earbud, leaving one open to listen to Ellie. I instantly scroll through an select a playlist that mixes rock, punk, and even some emo. Given today being my last first day, I figured early morning jams would be appropriate to get me pumped up even though I tend to listen to this genre quite often as of lately. I enjoy the heavy guitar and double bass pedal and lyrics I can either relate to or wonder who hurt the singer so bad. Needless to say, I'm definitely more of a rock person however there's still a lot of other types of music on my device, including orchestra and folk or indie. I don't like to limit what I listen to; whatever makes me feel good ends up on my phone. Simple as that.

"So, Lynn," Ellie says sliding in right next to me. I look in her direction, which was to my right, waiting for her to respond. She looks at me, but nothing came out of her mouth. Slowly, I arch a brow. Still, there was nothing. "I had nothing to say, I just wanted your attention." Ellie gave a stupid grin while I glare kindly at her if there is such a thing.

My head shakes and I reach out to pat her cheek, "You, my darling, are an absolute dumbass."

I feel her grin grow against my hand since I haven't moved it yet. "Not as big as you, though." I can't argue; she has a point.

As the bus lunches forwards, I look out the window and watch the world go by. Something settles in my gut about then, the feeling both familiar and foreign. I can't tell what it is, but as I watch the clouds roll in over the sun and birds flying through the sky, I only hope my last year of high school will be memorable.

#dark!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston fanfiction #teacher!tom hiddleston #loki #obsessive teachings #high school #stalking #obsessed love #obsessive #dark!fic

15 notes · View notes

mcfreakin-bxtch · 5 years ago

Text

Langdon’s Got a Witch

Pairing: Michael Langdon x Reader

Warnings: Smut (not that heavy), language

Word Count: 4k

A/N: So I thought about making this two parts or more but if this gets enough hits and you guys ask I shall!

Langdon’s Got a Queen

Y/N Y/L/N’s mother had always told her to stay away from that woman. The woman in black, the one with evil written all over. She never really had a problem with Miriam Mead, but boy did her parents. Mommy and Daddy dearest, devoted lovers of God, casting away the devil with their prayers and high ground morals. Now Y/N never had a problem with that either; to each their own she’d say. Besides, who was she to really judge other beliefs? If they weren’t bothering her that is.

Now Y/N was a confident person all around, knew she’d be destined for something great. Not in the supernatural sense, but in one where she played an important part in her career of choice, men and women parting ways as she walked through; wearing proudly, as one could conceive as, a devil’s smirk. She had straight A’s and B’s in school (a senior now, relieved to be done and over with), kept out of trouble to the best of her ability (of course she smoked, drank, always went to the biggest party thrown). Y/N Y/L/N made her parents proud all around with the outside persona she showed them. But she also wasn’t convinced that anyone would remember her (well her family maybe, a few friends here and there who probably wouldn’t make an effort to attend her funeral), but she would own the shit out of her life that was for sure. Completely ordinary was she, or at least she thought until that boy moved in.

Michael fucking Langdon. Y/N remembered watching him from the window of her bedroom, which conveniently faced the street of their neighborhood. The first thing she noticed from afar was the curiosity in his eyes as he inspected the outside of his seemingly new home. Next was his beautiful blonde curls, which she imagined she could run her hands through. Miriam, or Miss Mead as she’d always say, was all over the boy. He seemed to enjoy it though, seemed to thrive off it. Y/N had to know where this boy (or man?) came from. And why the hell he was stuck with Miriam Mead, the outcast Satanist. She waited, not sure on why she did really; a part of her was always scared of him. She would sneak peaks of him through her window when she could, catch him on his porch after school. And each and every time it seemed as though he knew she was watching, would always look her way as if he sensed her; she got the strong feeling that he did. And this is when he started to scare her a little.

“I’m just running these to Christine,” she lied smoothly to her mother, who was mindlessly cutting her vegetables as she listened. “I’ll text you if anything changes.”

Her father was more lenient than her mother. Sometimes she thinks that he wasn’t so religion crazy until he met her mother. He says otherwise, preaches that that was how he was raised. She doubted it. But no matter what she couldn’t say she hated her parents, quite the opposite actually, but there were times where she highly disliked them; when they made her go to church for something she cared little for or didn’t even think believed in herself, and the constant, searching eyes of her (she also hated to admit this at times) beautiful mom. When she met Michael, she was curious as to who his real parents were and what they were like. She’d ask, but there was always malice in his tone when they were mentioned; the venom in it would slap Y/N every time she heard it.

“Okay honey,” her mom said. “Tell Christine I said hi!”

“I will!” Y/N called out as she walked out the door.

Christine was one of the few people Y/N actually liked from her school. She was a shy, quite girl with beautiful (at least Y/N thought so) brunette locks and chocolate colored eyes. Some kids didn’t understand why someone like Y/N would ever hang out with someone like Christine; the dorky, shy girl who had no business being at the parties Y/N would drag her to. But Y/N did not care. She felt as though Christine was the only person on Earth she could be herself with; all her secrets and fears were locked away with the pure heart of dear Christine. That is until Michael Langdon.

Confidence, yet fear of the unknown bounced away with every step Y/N took to her neighbors’ door. She could sense this uneasy surge coursing through her as soon as she stepped foot on the property, uncomfortable but not entirely. Something different and dark calling to her, and she strangely loved it. With her heart drumming in her chest she knocked politely on the door, waiting patiently for what she assumed would be Miss Mead. It was Michael instead.

“Hello,” Michael said.

It almost felt as if he heard her, felt the call in his veins just as she had. Hearing just one pure, normal everyday word coming from his lovely, melodic voice made Y/N weak in her knees. There was a part of her, the alert, behaved subconscious of hers telling her to run. To be done with the boy and never look back. But the stronger part, the one who invited danger and the unknown of tomorrows, fell in love with him immediately.

She was never one to be a sap, didn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’ bullshit. Love took time, commitment, understanding, and above all patience. Fairy tales were fairy tales, and, unfortunately, they were stuck in reality. But with Michael Y/N felt as if nothing else existed but them, their love. That feeling alone felt enough to kill her, and never did she ever think it would happen to her. That was also something Y/N loved about him; he always teared down everything she thought she knew and showed her greatness.

“Hi,” Y/N breathed, sounding as though she ran miles to get to his door. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the neighbor. I figured I should welcome you to the neighborhood with some cookies. They’re chocolate chip, freshly baked too.” She added with a smile.

Michael looked at her wearily, but soon smiled back. “Chocolate chip is my favorite.” He told her.

Y/N could’ve sighed in relief and thanked God right then and there. Over chocolate chip cookies.

“Great!” She exclaimed. “Well I could just give you these for you and Miss Mead to enjoy. You can keep the plate too, it’s honestly not a problem.”

Y/N honestly didn’t want to leave. Because if she did that meant she had to leave that beautiful scent Michael carried on him, miss his beautiful blue eyes that she’d kill for, that seemingly sweet, innocent smile. It would mean going back to her everyday normal life, where now she didn’t see much of a future for herself. His aura was dark but full of promises and deep desires that would draw anyone and anything in. It was sweet, sweet poison and she couldn’t get enough of it.

“You can come in,” Michael said before Y/N could turn around to walk back. “Miss Mead isn’t back from the store yet but I’m sure she won’t mind.”

Y/N could feel the heat of a blush rushing to her cheeks. For what reason she didn’t know. Maybe it was because Michael was the one who invited her in. Or maybe it was the fact that Miss Mead wasn’t home, and this would be the first time she’d ever see the inside of a Satanists home. Either way she couldn’t help the eager nodding of her head before Michael stepped to the side to let her in.

Miriam’s house was surprisingly homey for having so many Satanic articles around the house. The house was obviously kept nice and cleaned, no blood on the kitchen table from sacrifices, no crosses burning in any corner of the house. She expected something far worse and darker in comparison. She watched as Michael set the plate of cookies down on the kitchen counter, awkwardly twiddling his hands together as he thought of something to say; Y/N was selfishly happy that he was just as nervous as she was.

“So,” Michael started, clearly trying to seem confident, and Y/N found it hard to believe that such a gorgeous being had no such experience at all. “Wanna see my room? We can play a few games if you want, I got a PlayStation.”

Y/N found herself smiling and nodding before she could even process what she was agreeing to.

‘Keep it together Y/N’ she mentally scolded.

Michael didn’t talk much about his family that afternoon as they played video games. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how childish Michael seemed to act. Not in a bad way, but in a way as though he really was a child. It confused her, even made her a little uncomfortable at first but she learned to understand it. She was telling Michael all about herself and family (she noticed that he nodded as if he already knew everything about her, his eyes conveying an aged and senescent look that pushed and pulled at Y/N’s entire being) when Miss Mead came home. The first thing she noticed is how Michael looked a little scared, like he had just committed a crime.

“I’ll be back,” Michael told her, standing up and rushing out his bedroom before Y/N could utter a response.

She folded her hands in her lap, looking around his room some more. It was simple for a teenage boy, some posters on the wall, a nice bed set, tv, clothes scattered in various parts of the room. She could hear them talking downstairs, picking up scattered words from their muffled conversation. A few minutes later Michael came back up, leaning against his doorway with a small, eager smile.

“Miss Mead brought home some takeout, wanna join us?”

Her heart stuttered at this. She was already having dinner with his family! Well adoptive (?) mother, but still. There were so many ways one could take it as, but she would never admit at the time that she wasn’t ready to leave him yet. She was willing to walk through fire if it meant spending another moment with Michael, and it scared her to death at how fast these feelings were catching on; like he was a magnet and she was ensnared in his trap.

“Thank you for the cookies Y/N,” Miriam said as they ate at the dinner table. “You certainly are the baker!”

“Thank you, Miss Mead,” Y/N said politely.

“Miriam, please,” she corrected, then straightened up a little in her seat.

“Do your parents know you’re over here?”

Y/N frowned, hoping that this conversation wouldn’t come up. “Not exactly,” she figured it was best not to lie to her, and hell she wasn’t afraid to admit that she was still a little scared of the woman. “But I’ll be alright. I just wanted to say hi, see if he needed help with school and everything.”

That also wasn’t entirely a lie, she had had school on her plans for discussing, a way to cave her way deeper into the boy only for him to turn the tables around on her.

“Huh,” Miss Mead huffed. “Well that was very kind of you Y/N. But Michael doesn’t need your help honey.”

Y/N was taken back, not quite expecting her brutal honesty. Michael looked at Miriam, horrified and embarrassed. Before Y/N could argue or agree, she wasn’t sure what, Michael said,

“Well I like her company and I want her to stay.”

There was a moment where Y/N looked at him and swore she saw the promise of a threat in his eyes as he stared at Miriam; fire burning behind the promise, endless torture and pain. This should’ve scared her, like run out of the fucking house and never, ever look back or even utter his name scared. Instead, her heart melted a little at the weight of his words and the fact that Miriam caved so easily. She went back home with more uncertainty than she ever felt before, but it also felt misplaced; like it wasn’t completely brought on by Michael. Rather, it was an immense pressure coursing through her body, and it felt as though it was seeping into her brain as well. She managed to somehow bypass her parents with a simple greeting and informing that she was heading to bed and passed out as soon as her head hit the pillows.

The dream Y/N was experiencing was one most would heavily consider to be a nightmare. And one that was visibly too real. There were barrens and she was still in her tank top and shorts she slipped in before falling asleep. She was standing in what she realized used to be Earth. Well, it was still on Earth, but everything alive was dead, nothing but dust and ash in the poisoned, polluted air. It did bother her, seeing all gray, no colors of life. It filled her with dread, and she did think about her parents and Christine.

“Y/N.”

She spun towards the sound, seeing, in the distance, a figure in a dark cloak. Somehow, she got the feeling that this figure was safe; to her at least. She found herself walking towards him, only realizing she was doing so when she stood a few feet in front of him. Under the hood of his cloak was a pale face, smiling down at her and holding his hand out. It was not the face of the boy she had just met, but rather an ancient evil; she knew that he had caused this. Still, she placed her palm in his. Waking up abruptly from the dream with a gasp, she faintly smelled the smoke before seeing it. There, in the corner of her room near the window where she would watch Michael from, was a fire. A fucking huge fire. Immediately jumping out of her bed and to her parents’ room made her dizzy from the smoke, but she damn near almost fainted from the screams that tore from her.

Miriam was talking with the police as Michael sat with Y/N in the ambulance. Her house was still burning down, her parents burnt to a crisp into their beds, the firefighters working hard to control it. She sat with a blanket around her shoulders as she was being checked out, dazed and in shock. She thought Michael was trying to talk to her, to soother her out of her shock, but the words came in jumbled messes, sounding as though she was underwater. She knew that she had somehow caused it. But what made her feel really guilty, that made her realize just how deep into hell she was already in, was that she felt so much better. The pressure was gone, as though it disappeared into the fire, and she felt oddly happy and free.

Michael had told Miriam that she was to stay with them until otherwise. Y/N didn’t have a problem with it, brought her closer to him. Miriam only tolerated it because of Michael. Christine would try to visit, her phone always blowing up from her constant calls and texts, but Y/N didn’t want them anymore; she didn’t want to bring Christine down with her.

Michael and Y/N’s relationship continued to change every day. The first few weeks were a daze, and she noticed things moving without her touching them, the pressure coming back every now and then. She would beg Michael to help her with this, afraid of repeating the same fate she left her parents in. Their faces haunted her in her dreams until Michael made them better. It was soon after that he told her everything about who he was. It surprisingly didn’t shock her as much as it should have. Miriam grew to like her and almost worship her as much as she did Michael when they all came to the conclusion that she had magic (almost) like Michael. Y/N and Michael would work on them together, her becoming more powerful with her newfound abilities. It felt amazing, letting it all out, and she wished she knew about them before accidentally killing her parents. Michael convinced her it was for the best. And he could be quite convincing; it only took a week into their new training before Y/N made the first move, kissing Michael with some much passion that she thought was going to cause another fire. She could tell he was inexperienced and very scared and nervous about her reaction to this revelation; it only made her more careful with him until he no longer needed her guidance.

The day Cordelia Foxx showed up at her door was also the day Michael was arrested for killing the butcher at the grocery store and was taken in by the Warlocks. Cordelia explained to her who exactly she was and that she was indeed a witch, and an already powerful one. She took her in, New Orleans being a place Y/N never expected to visit, and made quick friends; somehow, she knew not to worry, Michael was okay and she’d see him again.

Y/N passed through with flying colors, discovering so much more about herself and witches and magic. She was happy there, could see herself standing among the witches. She was closest to Mallory most of all, whom she sensed such a deep connection to that she couldn’t explain. But there was always that pull; there was always Michael. Every night away from him she could feel him, could practically taste him with every breath she took. Her dreams -she wasn’t sure what to call them anymore- were filled with soft caresses and words spoken of their adventures away from each other.

“Witches and Warlocks, huh?” Y/N joked the first night. “Who would’ve thought they were actually a thing.”

They were sitting in his room, or at least a version of it they created, on his bed, Michael propped up on one elbow as he looked up at her. She could sense the major changes in him as he could with her, but she knew his was darker and more terrifying; she still couldn’t find herself to break from his spell.

Michael couldn’t but chuckle with her, trailing a finger over her knee, sending shivers down her spine.

“They’re saying I could be the next Supreme,” Michael said. “The first Warlock one at that.”

Y/N knew what this meant, and it did bother her a little at first. Cordelia was a good person and her mentor, and she was also very kind to her. Sometimes she reminded her of her mother with the way she would dot over her, give her womanly wisdoms; it came with a comforting feeling.

Michael and Y/N had decided to hide their relationship from the Warlocks and Witches when Y/N learned they were to come to the Warlocks themselves to prove if Michael was worthy to take his rightful place. They would steal looks here and there under careful supervision, a brush of fingers as they walked by each other in the hallways. It seemed as though their plan was working, as no one questioned them at all. It also gave a little thrill to their trice’s, when Michael would sneak to her room to fuck her silly (thankfully her roommate was a very heavy sleeper), or when he would lick her pussy like his life depended on it in the library. She never felt guilty afterwards and wondered if Michael’s influence was finally in her system; no traces of the old Y/N Y/L/N left, but rather something more beautiful and powerful than before.

“She’s scared,” Michael said the night before his trial. They were lying in her bed, her roommate gone for reasons Y/N didn’t care about; she was just happy she wasn’t there. “She knows I’m going to pass.”

Y/N hummed as she ran her fingers through his luscious locks, his head resting over her heart.

“She is,” she agreed. “Cordelia isn’t stupid though, Michael. You should be careful.”

Michael lifted his head up to get a good look at her, a twinkle in his eyes. “Sure, sure,” he said. “But I’m worried about your apparent lack of faith in me Y/N/N.”

Most people would scurry away from the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, so full of authority. But Y/N was destined to be with Michael no matter what, and he would never hurt her intentionally. He did, however, depend on her love and loyalty to him, fed off it; she couldn’t blame him given his track record.

“I have plenty of faith in you, baby,” she cooed. “It’s just, I worry sometimes.”

He smiled, that soft, adorable smile that was reserved for her and her eyes only. He placed a chaste but oh so sweet kiss to her lips, Y/N whimpering when he pulled away too soon. He cupped her cheek, now laying on top of her.

“Nothing, and I do mean nothing, will ever take me away from you.” The conviction in his promise made her heart stop, blood rush to her cheeks, her breaths shallow. All that and his hand traveling down the curves of her body, lifting her left leg so he could put his weight between her legs; she could feel his want for her already, a pool of arousal between her legs because of it.

They quickly shed their clothes, stealing sloppy, needy kisses in between. Michael knew her body well now, could play her like a fine instrument and she would let out all the beautiful notes he thrived off of.

“We,” he breathed out, placing the head of his large cock at her entrance, teasing her clit as he did so. Y/N moaned, rolling his hips to get him inside before he pinned her hip down.

“Are meant for each other.” He finished this sentence with a hard thrust, making Y/N cry out. He didn’t give her any time to adjust, starting a brutal yet somehow soft, loving pace as she babbled, already so close to internal euphoria.

“We were destined for such great things together,” he boasted, one arm on the headboard as it was beginning to bang against the wall, the other touching her everywhere. She never wanted him to stop talking, each time his lovely voice bringing her close to release.

“This world will be ours. By our delights and creations, we are the beings of God and the Devil. They can do nothing to stop us. They can do nothing to separate us. We will create a new world in our making, a better one, atop the ashes of the spoiled.”

God Y/N loved him. She felt every word through every thrust into her wet cunt, through every touch, every breath she took in from him, from their bruising kisses. She knew every word he was saying was completely and utterly true. She felt the power coursing through them, and she truly believed that it was enough to burn the whole entire fucking world down as they were fucking.

“I love you!” Y/N practically screamed, clutching to him as he rubbed her clit with a rough thumb.

“I love you,” Michael breathed, nearing his release as well and pounding into her harder and faster.

She couldn’t hold it back any longer, letting out pornographic moans into his chest as her pussy tightened around his thick length. He growled as he felt her velvet walls clutch him, releasing deep inside her a few thrusts later. He collapsed on top of her, her arms wrapped around him as he did. She thought over what he said as they caught their breaths. She couldn’t find any fear in her at them.

Michael lifted his head up and placed a loving kiss to her lips, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling back.

“You are mine.”

Y/N nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “And you are mine.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon smut #ahs #american horror story #american horror story apocalypse #ahs apocalypse #cody fern #ahs imagines #ahs fx

260 notes · View notes

omgrachwrites · 5 years ago

Text

Schooled (Bucky Barnes)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/OC

Summary: After the passing of Ava’s father she starts acting out which drives her right into the arms of one gorgeous Professor Barnes.

Warnings: fluff, angst, tw: mentions of illness

Words: 1900

A/N: Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think, I love you all very much! xxx

Part Six - Peter Pan and Captain Hook

Paper bags were all bundled up into Bucky’s arms and he suddenly felt angry at himself for declining Steve and Sam’s help. Halloween had always been Harry’s favourite time of year and Bucky wasn’t able to throw him an extravagant party and it killed him. As a result he asked the nurses and doctors – who had only been too happy to help him – if he could throw a small gathering in Harry’s hospital room. There weren’t very many guests who were going to attend the party, there was only going to be Bucky, Steve, Peggy, Sam, Bucky’s mom and his sister. But really, they were all the people that the party needed.

A plastic bottle of grape soda fell out of one of the paper bags as Bucky got to his car. He swore under his breath as he kicked a wheel of his car and opened the trunk. There was a giggle as the bottle of soda was picked up off of the sidewalk. Bucky frowned as he saw that it was Ava.

“Hey, Mr Moody. Why do you seem to have bought the entire stock of the grocery store?” she giggled at him, beaming all the while.

Bucky looked at her warily, he was starting to get whiplash from her constant mood changes, “I’m throwing Harry a party in his hospital room tonight. Halloween is his favourite time of year and it’s the best I can do.”

“I know,” Ava smiled and elaborated when Bucky narrowed his eyes, wondering how she could know something like that, “he talks to me sometimes when I walk past his room; he told me how much he loves Halloween. He always tells me about how much he loves you also,” she added and Bucky fought the urge to cry.

“I’m glad that he’s at least talking to somebody, so thank you for taking the time,” he smiled; he had to admit that she had a good heart.

“It’s not a problem, he’s a sweet kid. I wonder whether you could give this to him?” she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it over to him. It was an amazingly well drawn picture of Peter Pan standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger, she’d also written a little Halloween message, “and I know how much he loves Peter Pan.”

“This is amazing, really it is. Thank you so much for this,” he was starting to get a little choked up.

Ava shrugged like it was nothing and grinned at him, “it’s no problem, I’d better go,” she smiled, fiddling with the end of her blonde hair, “I hope you all have a good night Buck,” she stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek before she left.

Bucky watched her leave before he shook his head and sighed as he put the bags in the trunk of his car before driving off to the hospital to see his little boy. When he got to the hospital, getting to Harry’s room was quite the challenge due to some nurse trying to flirt with him. He really didn’t want to be rude but all he wanted to do was get to Harry’s room to set up for the party. In the end, he got rescued by the chief of staff who happened to be passing by and he ended up getting escorted to Harry’s room.

“I’m sorry about her, she doesn’t get out much,” the doctor joked with a chuckle.

Bucky shook his head with an awkward smile, “it’s okay, and thank you for rescuing me.”

“Daddy!” Harry shouted as Bucky walked in and hugged his boy.

“Hey bud! Happy Halloween!” he smiled and got the Peter Pan hat out of the bag and placed it on Harry’s head, “this is for you,” he grinned as he gave Harry the picture that Ava had drawn for him.

“I love it Daddy! It looks just like Peter Pan daddy. Ava is the best; she looks like a beautiful princess.”

“Yeah, I know,” Bucky mumbled before he kissed his son’s forehead, clicked his plastic vampire fangs into place and he started decorating the hospital room.

There was so much candy and chocolate in that little room that it hurt Bucky’s teeth just by looking at it all. He put some cherry soda and some grape soda into punch bowls that were shaped like a witches’ cauldron which he adorned with jelly candy eyeballs that he’d poked a hole through with cocktail sticks.

Just as Bucky was finished with the decorating, Steve, Peggy and his mom turned up, it was so typical for them to turn up just as he was finishing. His mom had made pumpkin and cinnamon cake puffs so unsurprisingly Bucky forgave her pretty quickly. Peggy had been really nervous about meeting Harry but the sheer look of delight on Harry’s face spoke a thousand words. When Steve walked into the room he looked Bucky up and down as he shook his head in disapproval.

“No Buck, you can’t be a vampire,” he smirked and passed Bucky a garment bag,

“What the hell is this?” he raised an eyebrow at his best friend.

“Just go and put it on in the restroom,” Bucky sighed and walked into the restroom, as he was putting on the costume he would have liked nothing more than to murder Steve.

As Bucky revealed himself Steve burst out into peals of laughter, while his mom smiled at him, “you look so dashing sweetheart.”

“Thanks mom,” Bucky muttered unhappily while Harry smiled with glee.

“Captain Hook!” Harry’s reaction made him crack a smile.

About ten minutes later, Sam turned up along with Rebecca – Bucky’s sister – Bucky narrowed his eyes and took Sam to one side, “are you serious man? Turning up with my little sister?”

Sam chuckled, holding up his hands in mock surrender, “calm down Captain,” Sam smirked, “we’re just friends, I promise.”

“Yeah, well I’ll be keeping an eye on you, just so you know,” he mumbled, causing Sam to roll his eyes in response.

In the midst of playing some party games and eating candy there came a knock on the door, Bucky turned to see that it was one of Harry’s doctors. The doctor looked pretty happy and Bucky hoped that he’d only be delivering some good news. Bucky excused himself and walked out to meet the doctor, worry bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

“Hey, I’m sorry to interrupt while you’re having a party,” Doctor Banner smiled and Bucky nodded, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth.”

“That’s okay doctor, is everything okay?” he took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the worst.

“I’ve got some good news; we’ve been able to isolate the cancer to make sure it doesn’t spread. Harry’s last scan looks like a great improvement; you’ll be able to take him home as of tomorrow. He’ll have to come in weekly for his treatments and his scans but honestly, he’s doing really well.”

Bucky’s heart began to soar, he’d never felt so happy, this was the absolute best news, “oh my god! That’s amazing, he’ll finally be able to be back in his own bed, thank you so much doctor!” he lost his head and pulled the Doctor Banner into a hug, Doctor Banner chuckled as he patted Bucky’s back.

“You’re very welcome, I’ll let you get back to your party,” Doctor Banner grinned before he took off down the hallway. Bucky smiled as he walked back into the room.

Rebecca looked up at him nervously, “is everything okay Buck?”

Bucky smiled at his sister before looking at Harry, “I’ve got some great news bud! Tomorrow you’ll be able to come home!”

Harry threw his little arms in the air and whooped, “yay daddy! I’m so excited daddy!” it was the happiest that Bucky had ever seen him.

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

Ava giggled as she walked out of her bedroom to hear the cheers of the people who were playing beer pong. The party had decided to do boys against girls and by the looks of it, the girls had won. It was currently Peter who was downing the cup of all the mixed alcohol that people had been pouring in. MJ giggled and wrapped her arms around Peter’s neck.

“God, you’re so hot baby,” she smiled and kissed him deeply.

Ava shook her head fondly as she walked over to the little makeshift bar that she had created on the kitchen counter. By the looks of it, they needed some more vodka. She walked over to Pietro, Wanda’s twin. He was the most sober one, apart from her.

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab some more vodka from the store on the corner,” she smiled and grabbed her keys off the side.

“You can’t go on your own, princessa!”

Ava rolled her eyes with a smile at the pet name, “I’ll be fine really. I’ve got my pepper spray and I can beat any muggers up,” she giggled.

“Be careful, okay?”

“I will, I promise. I’ll see you guys in a little while,” she smiled before walking out of the apartment into the cold night.

The streets were pretty quiet, it was pretty clear that the entire population of New York was at some sort of party tonight. Ava only intended to get some vodka from the store but she ended up coming out with three bottles of wine and some snacks. As she was walking back she ran into Bucky who was beaming from ear to ear. It served to make him more handsome, Ava didn’t realise that was even possible

“Hey, let me walk you back to your apartment,” he smiled when he realised that Ava was on her own, Ava smiled and let him.

“So, you’re looking marginally happier than you did this morning. Did Harry have a good party?”

Bucky nodded with a grin, “yeah, he did. I got some good news from the doctors as well. He can come home as of tomorrow.”

“Aw, Bucky! That is amazing news, I’m so happy for you!” she grinned and she was, though that little boy made her day. But of course, she would much rather him be heathy rather than cooped up in a hospital.

“Yeah, it’s great. I still can’t believe it,” he beamed before hesitating and looking over at Ava, “have you heard back from the English department about if you’re going to be getting transferred out of my class?” Ava chewed her purple painted lip, she couldn’t miss the hurt that she heard in Bucky’s voice. But, he’d been an asshole.

“Considering I only filed it yesterday, no. I think it’s going to take up to a week for it to come back.”

“Look, maybe you shouldn’t transfer out,” he started as they got to Ava’s apartment, Ava considered on ending the conversation but she decided that it was only fair if she heard Bucky out, “I can forget about what happened yesterday. I can act like we didn’t sleep together in Greece, I can forget about all of it.”

Ava sighed; she couldn’t believe that his words still had the power to hurt her, “well, I can’t Bucky. At first, maybe I could but I can’t anymore and I really wish that I could forget it. I wish that I could forget you, but I just can’t.”

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

< previous part next part >

Taglist: open

@void-imaginations @theonelittleone @thejemersoninferno @mikariell95 @lovely-geek @leclerc-stan @allthingswildareshy @charles11700 @writingkeepsmewhole @white-wolf-buckaroo @goodolbucky @rosemoonmist

28 notes · View notes

phoebehalliwell · 4 years ago

Text

i will take any excuse to talk ab the next gen & run with it

an unnecessarily long continuation of the answer to this ask that answers so much more than was ever asked : )

wyatt wyatt is definitely looking for a sunday kind of love, like his dream fantasy is to be making breakfast in the morning and for his sleeping husband to sneak up behind him and hug him and like sun is streaming in through the windows and the birds are chirping blah blah blah the love you find at the end of a disney movie. speaking of disney movies he definitely had a huge crush on aladdin growing up. like he doesn’t necessarily want boring but more like gets really flustered by mundane acts of love. i think he would really want someone who has a sense of adventure and who would want to go on spontaneous adventures all that. i also think wyatt has a thing for guys with tattoos but Only if they’re well done if like it’s got poor line weight and bleeding ink there’s like no bigger turn off. it might just be the art history major in him but like someone with really nice tattoos, he’s like wow they themselves are like a work of art i could stare at them forever type shit but if the tattoos are shitty he has to suppress a gag reflex. just as a little fun fact.

chris i think chris’s type is really just the people who’s type is chris if that makes sense. like if they look like they’d really be into some skinny tall brunet with daddy issues than odds are chris is into them as well. and he like lowkey knows that this in fact stems from his daddy issues and his inferiority complex all coming together to form the desperate need to be wanted but that really only then fuels the aesthetic so that psychological problem can be saved for another day.

melinda i really have no permanent set in stone ideas for melinda as again i can’t quite say i have any specific love interests in mind for her i do want to add in a journey of her sort of “discovering” her sexuality and realizing she’s not as straight as previously thought but i wasn’t really planning on doing that through a relationship and all that. i almost wanna make her one of those people who are really into fixer uppers like especially given her empathetic abilities but at the same time i feel like thats a super unhealthy trope and every time i see it i’m just like girl,,,, it’s not worth the emotional strain ur putting yourself through,, so i don’t think i’ll do that.

kat listen kat probably didn’t watch kim possible growing up bc she was born in 07 but like emotionally she was definitely one of those kids who had a crush on shego growing up. she’s definitely the type of person to qrt a picture of her celebrity crush with step on me please. she could hit me with a bus and i’d thank her. that type of energy y’know.

tamora okay, so, you remember in like what was in 2014 when tumblr had this obsession with british guys i bet i can find some examples on pinterest one sec

wow really hated travelling back down that rabbit hole i forgot how many poeple were genuinely attracted to benedict cumberbatch but that’s not the point the point is that energy of a cute london boy who always calls you “love” or “darling” and reads books and makes tea or whatever like super kind and british that idea yeah that’s tam’s type and honestly every day we should thank god that she wasn’t old enough to be a 1d stan because she would have definitely started a fan account

pj let’s start by saying pj is attracted to almost every girl like if you ask her her type in men she can answer pretty confidently (himbos) but when it comes to girls she’s like wow. every girl ever. i feel like there’s the specific type of character tho like the tv trope of this sort of doe eyed optimistic blonde who like always sees good in the world and wants to do the right thing and is sometimes viewed as naive but really isn’t (i’m specifically picturing like supergirl or karen page here) i feel like that is easily a large part of pj’s type. just someone who’s very just like earnest i guess is the word? someone who’s not embarrassed by love you know who wants to embrace all the “cringy” stereotypes of having a song and giving flowers all that. her favorite childhood movie was definitely descendants because she had a crush on like half of the characters.

henry like absolute disaster idiots. morosexual. henry once saw a guy accidentally skateboard into a bush and then dated him for like a month. he just really wants someone who’s like genuinely funny and can make him laugh. like the ideal partner for henry can also sorta keep up with him intellectually and challenge him in that manner, but he tends to find those people a little too uppity (it also probably doesn’t help that those under that qualification are usually people he meets at the library in magic school, and eventually him being mortal and all that always manages to get weird). so, henry usually just dates other humans and doesn’t actively seek out those of a superior intellectual caliber because he always sorta thinks those people are dicks. that being said he may or may not have an on again off again will they won’t they dynamic with the captain of the mock trial team that always starts off as debates and then devolves into hook ups.

parker parker’s type is basically simp but not like in aesthetics if that makes sense. like for her it’s very important that whoever she’s with knows that she can kick their ass and love her for it, but that they’re not just like that in general. like specifically someone who is strong and independent and can kick ass on their own, but still sorta yields to parker y’know. her ideal relationship is definitely someone she can by symbiotic with in combat that kind of unsaid understanding where when they fight, the two sorta flow together y’know

peyton peyton i think is the only one of the half cupids who doesn’t really look for the grand gestures and endless devotion and the this and the that. i don’t think she really enjoys being the center of attention, and getting a dozen roses on her doorstep would honestly probably just embarrass her (bc you know pj and parker would never let it go). i think she really looks for someone like her, who’s maybe a bit more quite & studious, and her ideal date would really just be sitting together and watching a movie and not feeling the need to talk but just really enjoying the comfort of each other’s presence. a simple yet sturdy love.

dency dency is already the type of gal to be the step on me / hit me with a bus like she really has the strong, quasi impervious, looks a little like she can kill you energy. that being said i think she’s still a total softie. she has like a slight fear of love and intimacy bc of her whole parentage and the undeniably abusive relationship they had but at the same time she was raised by a cupid so even though she’s definitely like scared of love she’s seen the wonders and joys true love can bring and blah blah blah, it’s just she has a really big fear that she’ll fall for something that she think’s is true love but is really just an elaborate con. because of that she comes off as really closed off and aloof, but just a little info for her soulmate out there she’s an absolute sucker for forehead kisses. just soft, cutesy, almost cheesy love; that’s her ideal. she’s just too guarded to ever really let herself go for that.

#wyatt halliwell #chris halliwell #melinda halliwell #kat mitchell #tamora mitchell #pj halliwell #henry mitchell jr #parker halliwell #peyton halliwell #dency halliwell #next gen #charmed next gen

19 notes · View notes

janeyseymour · 4 years ago

Text

Escape- pt 5

pt 1. pt 2. pt 3. pt 4.

Jane Seymour has stayed with Henry long enough. Cue Catherine of Aragon and the rest of the girls to save her.

Jane and Catherine figure out what they're going to do about Henry.

When Catherine woke up for the first time that day, she heard a soft moan. Slowly walking to Jane’s room, she confirmed the sound belonged to Jane.

“You okay love?”

“No,” a small voice answered. “Please come sit with me.” She quickly opened the door and sat by her side.

Wrapping an arm around the blonde, Catherine spoke, “Do you want to talk about it?” Her question was answered with the shake of the head. “Okay. Just relax. I’ve got you.”

She sat with her until she was sure that Jane was asleep. The hispanic laid her back down before walking back to the couch and glancing at the clock: 3:30 AM it read.

“Oh God. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she sighed, laying back down and promptly letting the darkness take her away.

When Jane woke up, she knew she had to convince Catherine to leave. Shyly, she walked into the living room praying that her friend wasn’t there. Unfortunately for her, John and Catherine were mid-conversation.

“Good morning Daddy,” she made her presence known. “Good morning Lina.”

“Morning my beautiful daughter,” John got up to greet his daughter and get her some coffee while Catherine opted to nod at her with a crooked smile.

“Lina, we need to talk,” she began to nervously play with the skin where her ring used to sit. She had taken it off the night before and left it on the bedside table before promising herself she would never put it back on again.

“Of course.” The two women silently made their way to the back porch.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Jane blurted out, “You need to go.”

Catherine was stunned and could only stammer, “W-What? Why?”

“You need to leave. I don't know where Henry is, and it’s only a matter of time before he comes here. If he knew you were here too, I’m honestly not sure what would happen. I don’t want to know what would happen. It wouldn’t be good.”

“That’s the issue Janey. You don’t know where he is. You need to go to the police so they can find him before he finds you. I don't really want to know what would happen if he found you.”

“You know I can’t do that. I’ve been with him for so long, and, as crappy as it is, I really don’t want him to go to jail. I still love him.”

“The longer he’s out there, the closer he is to killing you, and the more people he’s going to end up hurting in the process of trying to find you. Do you really want that?”

“Of course I don't want that Catherine,” Jane’s voice went stone cold. “Who do you think I am? A monster?”

“No. But right now, you’re being stupid. You’re risking not just your life, but others’ too. You’re putting other innocent people in harm’s way too! What about your parents?” She raised her voice slightly.

“You know I’m just trying to protect you Lina,” Jane got quiet again.

“And you know I’m trying to protect you,” Catherine sighed heavily. Jane sunk.

“Cat,” her voice broke. “This is hard. It’s so fucking hard.” She choked out a sob.

“I know.” The hispanic engulfed the blonde in a hug. “But if you want it to get easier, I really do think you’re going to have to go to the police.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Let’s get this over with.” She untangled herself from the warm arms that held her and dried her river of tears.

As they headed in, not twenty yards away behind a bush, Henry muttered, “Fucking shit.” He had originally come here to try to apologize to the woman he loved and take her back home, but it wasn’t looking like it was going to be that easy. He ran.

“Daddy?” Jane yelled as she wandered back into the house.

“Dad’s in the shower dear,” Margaret called from the kitchen.

“Oh, okay. Uh, Lina and I will be back a little later.”

“Where are you going? Is it safe for you to go out right now?”

“We’re just going to the police station Mom. It’s going to be fine.”

“If you say so. Please be careful.”

Jane wandered back outside to the front porch and waited for Catherine to make the first move.

“I can drive.” Catherine ran to the car and opened the door, helping her in.

The drive was quick, but the wait for the meeting seemed as though it dragged on forever. The two were in the middle of an intense game of solitaire on Jane’s phone when a short lady in a business suit came out of an office.

“Seymour, let’s go. Why are you here today?” the woman said rather flatly.

“I need to file a report... to report Henry Tudor, my ex.”

“Fill out these forms, and then we’ll need to talk to you if that’s okay. If the case holds up, we’ll take care of it from there.”

Hours later, Jane and Catherine left the station after meeting with Officer Beale and a few others who informed them that the case would be held up and followed through with. He had informed them they were to relocate while they searched for Henry.

“Where am I going to go?” It’s not like I can really afford anything right now!”

“Jane-”

“No! I can’t just-”

“Jane,” she tried again.

“No, let me finish!” She raised her voice at her friend now that they were safe in the car again.

“Just listen real quick. My younger cousin has a house a little ways away from here. We, or you, can go there. It’s safe. She lives with a few other girls, but I’m positive there’s enough space for us.You’re more than welcome to stay there as long as you need. I already spoke to her this morning before you woke up. There’s not much around the house, but it’s somewhere relatively safe and quiet.”

“Will you come with me?” She asked shyly, afraid Catherine would say no.

“You know I will if you want me to.”

After a long discussion about where they would be going, the two women were on their way to their retreat.

“Just let me go to the bathroom, and then we can take off?” Jane looked at her friend for permission.

“You don’t need my permission to go to the bathroom.”

“I just-” Jane’s shoulders sank. “Sometimes it annoyed Henry if we were about to leave. Something about ‘Why didn’t you go before? Now we’re going to be late. Come on Jane.’ Most times he said no. I would just have to hold it until we got to our destination.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that now. You’re your own person. You don't need permission to relieve yourself.” Jane sped off towards the bathroom.

“Cath, you listen to me,” John said seriously as soon as he knew his daughter couldn’t hear them. “You better take care of her. You hurt her, I destroy you... like I’m going to destroy that shithead Henry.” His tone got angrier as he continued thinking about the man that had broken his daughter.

“Of course sir. You know how I feel.” She shook the older man’s hand.

“Yes I do,” he whispered lightheartedly.

“What?” Margaret seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “What haven’t you told me?” She smacked her husband’s arm.

“Ow woman! Calm down! I’ll tell you when they leave. I’m just trying to have a moment with one of the few people Jane brings around that I don't utterly hate.”

“You’ll find out soon enough Marge. I’m sure of it.” Catherine winked at Margaret.

“Alright, I’m ready!” Jane’s voice rang throughout the house before she appeared at the bottom of the steps.

“Bye Mom.” She hugged Margaret as tightly as she could without feeling any pain in her ribs.

“Stay safe babe.” Margaret shed a single tear before releasing her daughter.

“Bye Daddy. Love you.” She nearly fell into her father’s arms.

“See you later princess. I love you. Be safe.” He jokingly nudged her into Catherine. “Off you two go! We’ll see you lovebirds soon!”

“Dad!” Jane laughed nervously. She missed Catherine’s face flush red before quickly composing herself.

“I’m just joking around babe.” John winked. “Bye now!” He pushed the two out of the door.

Jane and Catherine walked to the car as Catalina started, “Let’s get this show on the road. We’ve got about 5 hours ahead of us. We’ll be lucky if we get there by nine tonight.” She opened the car door for Jane and began to drive.

A little ways down the road, Henry was screaming, “What the fuck? They’re gonna call the cops?” He had been pacing around for the last three hours, unaware that Jane was already out of town and on her way to hiding. He drunkenly grabbed his phone from his pocket.

“Thomas? I need your help. Call me back,” he sneered into the phone and angrily hung up. “Fucking hell. What am I going to-” his phone rang.

“Asshole, why didn’t you answer like thirty seconds ago?”

“I was helping my mom. What do you need?” Thomas asked his friend, clearly annoyed.

“I need to find Jane. She’s with that bitch Catherine Aragon.”

“Jesus Christ. What did you do to that poor sweet girl?” Thomas Culpepper had always known Henry to be a rowdy drunk and wished he could save Jane and have her to himself. Jane Culpepper had a nice ring to it.

“Nothing you fucker. She just left me.”

“Sure.” Thomas didn’t believe his friend. “Come to my house. I’ll be expecting you in five.”

“I’m by her parents’ house. I’ll come tomorrow. I have things to do.” Henry’s mind was racing.

“Bye,” Thomas hung up. Henry ran to the nearest store to gather the things he would need for this journey he was about to go on.

#six the musical #six musical #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #six musical fanfic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #aramour

11 notes · View notes

therotatingvillain · 5 years ago

Text

First, hello. A few facts about me: I'm German, currently still living in Germany, going to school, 10th grade and am somewhat interessted in history. As it is in Germany you can't be interessted in history without at least knowing more about World War 2 than the average person, although I believe that Germans tend to see the horror in it, yet still make jokes and laugh about it more than other nations. There also are a lot, and I mean a lot of movies about WW2 or set in WW2. One of these is my number 3 favorite movie, Inglorious Basterds. Now, when I first watched IB, I immediately (as so many of us probably) fell in love with SS-Colonel Hans Landa, whom I'll just be referring to as Hans from now on. I wondered about something everytime I watched him though and that was what exactly made him so terrifying? What makes our blood run cold the moment we hear this abstract, weird version of Für Elise, or at least this abstract song with the Für Elise beginning? What makes us feel as if we're in serious danger everytime Hans is on screen? It couldn't just be the uniform or his obvious Nazi typical mannerisms, no, otherwise we would have been just as scared of Gestapo Major Dieter Hellstrom and I don't know about you, but the more I watch IB, the more I think Dieter is just hilariously failing at trying to be like Hans.

So, what made Hans so different? Well, in my opinion you can already see that in the first scene.

Let's make one thing clear here, I'm a writer, I want to become a psychologist, I can't and won't talk about this in a cinematography kind of way, but rather on a people level. Also, I'm a theatre kid, so I'm gonna use some of the shit I learned in drama class and all in all this is just a lot of rambling and me fanboying over Nazi Daddy Landa, so don't take everything I say too seriously.

The first thing I want to briefly touch upon is the music. The iconic intro of Für Elise, a song that screams German and what is it followed by? Abstract, not at all fitting notes, making you feel uneasy because something isn't right at all. LaPadite and his daughter also show this perfectly. She sees the car driving their way, the music sets in, their erratic, nervous and you as the audience don't know why. You can guess why, a German song in the background, a movie set in WW2? This is going to be Nazis, no doubt, but you're still uneasy because something just doesn't seem right. Not one bit.

And then Hans arrives, open top car, showing that he's not at all scared about what he is doing. He tells his men he doesn't want to be disturbed and walks up to LaPadite, asking if this land belongs to the LaPadites, fully aware that of course it does, but still being polite, asking questions, introducing himself and shaking LaPadites hand. This handshake shows perfectly that from that moment on Hans has full control over the entire situation. Hans is the one initiating the handshake and he holds it. If you look closely you can see LaPadite trying to take his hand away, but Hans doesn't let him. He looks into LaPadites eyes, holding the stare, his hand still firmly gripping LaPadites. Hans politely asks if he could be invited in, a clear order disguised as a polite question and when LaPadite agrees and wants to walk off, Hans lays his hand on LaPadites upper arm, showing that he has a higher status than LaPadite, that he is in control and they both know it.

The next bit that just makes you hold your breath is when Hans meets LaPadites daughters, mesmerized by Charlottes beauty, her having blonde hair and blue eyes, the Arien norm the Nazis were so fascinated with. She is the only one he pays attention to, staring at her even after sitting down, his face devote of emotion, just an emtpy stare that you're unable to read. When another of the daughters was asked to get him a glass of wine, Hans gripped her arm, soft, yet clearly in a threatening way. We know he has power over everyone in that room, but we don't see him clearly abusing this power, we only see small motions like that and that makes us nervous, because we wait for the moment he snaps but it just doesn't happen.

When he tells LaPadite to sit down with him and tells him to send his girls outside, we see that this is Hans' stage. He decides who goes where when and you follow those orders.

Next Hans asks to switch the language to English because his French is exhausted and he would only embarrass himself if he kept on talking, but once you have seen the full scene, you know this was only so that he could have a full conversation with LaPadite without the Dreyfuses underneath the floorboards knowing too much and making a silent escape.

From here on it gets really clear that Hans doesn't accept a simple yes or no as an answer, or any answer that he deems as too vague. He asks LaPadite to „please tell me waht you've heard“ after asking him if he's familiar with who Hans is, reminding LaPadite of the monster that is sitting in front of him. He wants LaPadite to talk, to slip up and reveal himself so that Hans can get the job done with and leave.

Hans smiles when LaPadite tells him that his visit may be pleasant, but LaPadite doesn't know why Hans is there. Hans smiles because he knows LaPadite is lying and we know that Hans knows. That's a terrifying thought. We don't know how he knows, all we know is he does. Hans entire preperation happened off screen, we know exactly nothing about him except for the fact that he knows. That he has power and knows the secrets hanging heavy in the air.

He drags the entire process as long as he can, doing everything neat and tidy, getting LaPadite to talk, asking him questions, still accepting no vague answers. When LaPadite asked if he could smoke his pipe, Hans reacts in a sort of „don't be silly“ demeanor. As if he isn't the one in control of everything, but just a mere guest in LaPadites house out of pure friendliness from LaPadite.

Now, let's get to my favorite part of the scene, the rat speech. This entire speech is just so that we would agree with Hans. Makes us understand his position, maybe even feel sympathy for him. He says he loves his nickname „precisely because I've earned it.“, saying it as if he means „I worked hard for this“, trying to gather sympathy. „I don't consider the comparison an insult“ can be read as the typical „I'm not the bad guy here, I'm not like them, I don't have anything against Jews.“ and I'm pretty sure I am not the only one believes him with that, who believes him that he never had anything against Jews, but merely just followed the regime flooding the entirety of Europe. When he says he doesn't consider the comparison an insult, he puts a hand onto his chest, underlining this „it's not me who's the bad one“ meaning. He makes us agree with him through comparisons like the one between a rat and a squirrel, because it's true. He repeats certain aspects, making it clear that they are important, making us think about it and in the end agreeing. It's terrifying to realize how easy he can make you agree with something so atrocious. It's as if he gets into your head with complete ease.

I always felt as if the phrase „Because I'm aware of what tremendous feats human beings are capable of once they abandon dignity“ felt off. Just, not really fitting, but that's for another time. After smoking his ridiculous pipe, which, let's be honest here, was not intended to intimidate LaPadite further, but was probably just something Hans thought was fucking hilarious (it was) since Hans is someone with a sense of humor. A really dark and disturbed sense of humor, but he loves cracking jokes and this was one of them. Anyway, he emphasizes a lot on the word „dictates“. His job dictates that his men conduct a search. Hans doesn't want to do this but he has to. It's again this weird sense of sympathy we feel for him. When he talks about the irregularities and says that „rest assured there will be“ some, we have the last clue that we needed. Now it's obvious that Hans knows everything. He knows that the Dreyfuses are hiding beneath the floorboards, he knows LaPadite has been lying, he knows everything.

What he is doing now is disguising obvious threats as rewards, telling LaPadite that his family would be save if he told Hans everything Hans wanted to know, reminding him that his daughters were outside with Hans men and that with one word from Hans, they could be shot on the spot and by now not just LaPadite but also the audience know that Hans would indeed give them the order to kill the girls just to get the information he wants.

I believe that from here on it's very obvious why we're so scared of Hans, if you don't remember, go back and watch the scene again. Actually, go watch the entire movie, it's wonderful.

Now, this was just a short retelling of the first 20 minutes, a lot of the things I mentioned were repeated to enhance the feeling and of course I may be reading way too much into this, but honestly? I don't care. It was fun writing this, it was even more fun staring at frame for frame of those first 20 minutes for more than 2 days, talking to myself more than I talked to anyone else the entire past week, but I just love Hans on so many levels. Christoph Waltz acting is amazing, he is an amazing actor that deserves the two Oscars he won and even more and I hope we will see him in a lot more movies before having to part from him.

Please excuse any mistakes since it's fairly late, I'm dying on the inside (well, I'm already dead inside but you know what I mean), English isn't my mothertongue and all in all I'm just ranting as always.

Stay hydrated you wonderful human beings.

#hans landa #inglorious basterds #christoph waltz

60 notes · View notes

giogio-gucci-gangstar · 5 years ago

Text

Diego Week: Rivalry!

@jjba-arni-reblog and I have been having a lot of fun with Diego week, so here is some self-indulgent “Diego harassing Johnny but not entirely hating Gyro because he has coffee” shit

~~~~

There it was, that unbearably wonderful smell of coffee. Diego let his nose blindly carry him towards the source of his favorite drink. There was a little warning in the back of his head that this didn't quite smell like the usual American coffee, but god it just smelled so much better he couldn't resist searching for it.

The closer he got the more his nose twitched, there was another, much more annoying smell mingling with that of his beloved coffee. It smelled like a spoiled brat. No, there was something else there too, he sniffed again. Ah a spoiled brat with daddy issues. Joestar.

Diego sneered thinking of the annoying blonde. No way that incompetent little thing could make something that smelled so delicious. The Neapolitan had to be there with him. Though he had an odd style and sense of humor he was more bearable. His most redeeming quality being that he made Johnny mildly more tolerable.

That duo of men were disgustingly close. Always talking and laughing with each other. Absolutely revolting. In no way would he, Diego, ever want to involve himself in something like that. With people like that. But he hadn’t seen another human being in nearly a week, and certain concessions must be made for the sake of a good cup of coffee.

Slowly Diego approached their little makeshift camp. Valkyrie and Slow Dancer were sleeping a few feet away from a little fire in the center while the boys ate and drank on a blanket. It looked warm and cozy, creating an overall atmosphere that made Diego want to vomit. He took a deep breath, allowing his senses to be overwhelmed by the smell of the Neapolitan’s coffee and made a small grunt to announce his presence.

The Joestar was the first to respond, his teal lips curled in disgust. Diego scoffed, as if he would deal with that one. Instead he turned to the less obnoxious one, who offered up a full view of his monogrammed grill. It looked like he was trying to smile, but anytime he opened his mouth he looked like a distastefully wealthy monkey flashing his teeth. He tried not to grimace too much.

While these two ruffians clearly had no sense of manners he would still try to act righteously. “Good evening-” He offered before the Joestar cut him off.

“Gyro tell him to fuck off.” The Joestar maintained full eye contact with Diego as he made his demand. Diego could feel his eye start to twitch but he would remain civil.

“Oh come on Johnny, he can just have some coffee and then go on his way. He hasn't even tried to kill us yet!”

Johnny’s eyes blew up in outrage, “How can you say that! What about those giant scaley chickens? WE almost BECAME lizards!”

“But we didn't.” Gyro just shrugged his shoulders and rose to grab another coffee cup, “And he probably could have done that now if he wanted to.” Johnny just looked up at him incredulously.

“I suppose it would have been easier to use Scary Monsters and just take the coffee…” Diego pondered out loud, mostly to himself. Though he did relish the way the Joestar’s face contorted.

“Espresso.” Gyro corrected. “Aside from lacking culture he’s not all bad Johnny.” To that, Johnny could only roll his eyes, annoyed at the seemingly friendly nature of the comment. Gyro gestured for Diego to take a seat next to him. How odd, the Neapolitan managed to mock and defend him within a breath of each other. He was smarter than he looked.

Slowly he lowered himself next to Gyro, and away from the Joestar.

“Espresso?” Diego ventured trying to start a conversation only to further annoy the Joestar, not because he was actually curious or found the Neapolitan interesting or anything embarrassing like that.

Surprisingly, Gyro seemed interested in talking to him, avidly describing different types of coffees, and various ways to prepare them. Diego was still slightly confused on the difference between a cappuccino and a macchiato, but as far as he was concerned anything with milk was for those who lacked resolve.

While yes, he was learning things and not entirely hating his time there, the thing he hated the least and possibly almost enjoyed, was seeing how Johnny reacted to him talking normally with Gyro. Diego could almost see his little thoughts, he was clearly weighing if this was somehow a clever plan to get closer to them to then suddenly attack or if he was a decent human being. The pout on his face suggested that he liked neither of those theories, and Diego loved watching him struggle.

It looked like Johnny was actually becoming slightly jealous, not being able to participate in the discussion. Instead he just sat there, watching the campfire as the two men spoke somewhat enthusiastically. He pouted to himself, avoiding the conversation like a child

As if Diego could perfectly read Jojo’s emotions, he smirked at the perfect opportunity to harass that annoying little man. His sweatshirt had shrugged far enough down to see a little star shaped tattoo that was very similar to a birthmark on Silver Bullet.

“Hey Johnny” Diego leaned over Gyro to look at Johnny. His grin was met with a glare of blue steel. Oh this was so fun and he had hardly even begun.

“What.” Johnny spat out the words as if ‘do you want’ was too much of a hassle to tag on.

“You know, I just so happened to notice that you and Silver Bullet share so much in common.” Diego was nearly on Gyro’s lap at this point, so when the Neapolitan interjected he jumped a bit. Honestly he had forgotten he was there.

“Because they’re both so pale?” Gyro interjected. That was what he was interrupted for? What a stupid response. Diego was about to express that exact sentiment, but Johnny spoke before he could open his mouth.

“I'm not that pale you asshole!” Johnny was seething, but Gyro broke into hysterical laughter and nearly doubled over in his seat. “Not all of us were ‘blessed’ with Mediterranean skin you tan fuck.” Diego snorted, so this was clearly a conversation they had had before. How, interesting.

“Well I was going to say it's funny that you have a tattoo of my horse’s birthmark, but I guess Silver Bullet is white and Johnny doesn't really look like he’s ever been in the sun…” Johnny’s mouth twitched.

“You’re brIt's not a tattoo, don't flatter yourself.”

“Wait,” Gyro who was quite literally caught in between their discussion interrupted, “Does that mean you and his horse have the same birthmark?”

“To the naked eye it would seem like they are related.” Diego pointed out wistfully while Gyro cackled in laughter and Johnny yelled at him for agreeing.

Diego was very satisfied with himself as he turned to get up and leave. He had some coffee, Gyro had given him some of his espresso, and he had agitated Johnny to the point of physical violence. By all means this was a successful trip.

#Diego #Diego week #Diego week 2020 #diego brando #steel ball run #SBR #gyro #gyro zeppeli #johnny #johnny joestar

22 notes · View notes

chicken-noodle-slytherin · 5 years ago

Text

Friends?

Part one of two.

Draco Malfoy x Mudblood Slytherin!Reader

Tw: swearing, slight angst

A/n: I haven't posted in a while so I decided to make a two parter.

"I hate that blonde prick." Hermione says, angrily chopping up some lavendar. Draco Malfoy just made a very loud remark about how that even Amortentia won't make anyone like her. Seeing as she seems to have more friends than Malfoy, who just has goons, I find that hard to believe.

"Really? I honestly couldn't have guessed." I say, throwing in some peppermint and stirring until the liquid inside the cauldron turns green.

"How are you even in the same house as him? You're so much better than anyone in that house. You're not even a pureblood. You're the first muggleblood admitted in deacades." Hermione says, eying the potion to make sure I'm doing it right. "Hermione you have brung this up every day since we first got sorted, what was it, 5 years ago?" I recalled.

"Yeah? It's still shocking to me. Slytherins are known as the 'pureblood house' for a reason. You should've been in Ravenclaw." She states, looking irritated.

"I'm not that smart Hermione. Speak for yourself, you're the smartest in the whole class grade." I say as she throws in the crocodile heart while I continue to stir.

"Yeah, but still you're not completely dumb unlike Crabbe or Goyle." She jokes, staring down my hand for any stirring mistakes. She was serious about getting good grades, and it honestly didn't hurt for her to help if I do make a mistake.

"Yeah. I think if I wasn't Slytherin I would be a Gryffindor though, after all they are pretty similar. Though I still don't like the whole rivalry thing. They're practically the same house, Gryffindor is just considered brave because they do things without thinking of themselves, while Slytherin puts themselves and their friends into the equation." I say, watching the liquid in the cauldron turn blue.

"That's rude," Hermione huffs.

"I'm just being honest. I mean, Harry is the most Gryffindor person that I know of, minus the founder, and he really only thinks of himself sometimes. I mean, look at how many times you have gotten in trouble or could have with him." I say, putting down the spoon on the table.

"Yes, but I did those willingly with him because he's my friend." She says, looking around to see if anyone else was done.

"And I get that, but he's also putting you in wreckless danger a lot of the time." I try to correct her, but she doesn't budge.

"You're just trying to say Slytherin is better than Gryffindor." She says, watching my eyes.

"Not exactly, I'm just saying that they're very similar with key differences." I insisted.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Sure."

Snape comes to our table and looks down into our cauldron of what is hopefully calming draught.

"Are you two finished, Miss Granger and y/l/n?" Snape asked.

"Yea-"

Hermione cuts me off. "We have to wait 10 more minutes until it turns lighter." She corrects me before I could even say the wrong thing. I whisper a small thank you to her in return.

"I see." Snape says, then walks away.

"How do you deal with him?" She asks.

"Same way you do, but he kind of has an obligation to be nice because I'm in Slytherin. Only sort of." I state.

"True." She says, watching over the cauldron in front of us.

After Potions I didn't have any classes with Gryffindor, meaning I was unable to see Hermione, my closest friend. Luckily, I had classes with Hufflepuff, allowing me some time with kind people. I mean, as a mudblood in Slytherin, it can be harsh. Not the worst, but still, harsh.

As I walk to my next class, I notice Draco eying me up and down. He does that a lot, mainly because to him, I'm disgusting mudblood. I've gotten used to it by now.

"Hey, y/l/n!" He calls out, his goons behind him.

"What does mr. daddy's money want?" I roll my eyes.

"For you to be out of Slytherin, for one." He says, trying to catch up to my pace of walking, so I walk faster.

"For someone that hates me so much, you seem to be obsessed with me. I mean, calling out my name in the middle of the hallway, catching up to me? What are you going to do next, propose?" I say, grabbing hold of my wand at my side. He isn't usually prone to hex, but I wouldn't put it past him.

"Why would I ever want to marry a filthy little mudblood?" He smirks.

"Why would I ever want to marry a pompous asshole with horrible morals?" I say, looking forward. I don't like looking at him. Even his face disgusts me.

"You know I'm hot." He says. I nearly stop in my tracks to laugh.

"That's hilarious. I'm not one of the little girls who follow you around and act like they're in love with you because you have money, Malfoy. I actually see past the money, and clearly see that you're just a terrible person. Your personality can't even make up for lack of looks." I state, bearly able to contain my laughter.

"Shut up you mudblood!" He shouts, grabbing his wand.

"Fuck off Malfoy. What are you gonna do? Hex me?" I say, and immediately get shot with a spell and pass out. I don't remember what he was saying, but I do remember falling down.

I wake up to see Madam Pomfrey dabbing a warm cloth on my head. She stands back, and allows me to look around.

"Someone used flipendo on you, and you got knocked down one of the stairways. You're lucky Mr. Malfoy was there to save you from terrible damage." She states, very matter of factly.

I laugh. Why would Malfoy save me? He would rather all wizards with muggle parents die.

"No way." I chuckle. Madam Pomfrey looks at me weird and walks away. I look to the end of my bed to see Hermione.

"Hermione?" I ask. Of course it is, because she's honestly the only person who would care for me enough to check on me.

"Who?" She jokes, but a little sniffle comes out too.

"Are you okay?" I ask her and sit upright in my bed.

"I should be asking you that." She holds a tissue up to her nose.

"But I asked you first. What's wrong?" I look at her and wait for her response. She looks at me dumbfounded.

"What's wrong? I witnessed you fly down the bloody stairs!" She says. "Malfoy put a cushioning charm down before you landed but you passed out anyway. I couldn't believe it." She takes a long pause. "He carried you here. He freaking carried you here. He didn't say a word until he layed you down on the bed. He explained everything to Madam Pomfrey while I just cried. I thought you died!"

"He jinxed me! But he was the one that made me fly down the stairs! Why would he help me after he was the one to hurt me? I mean, he would get into less trouble. How did he say I fell down?" I ask. My thoughts were rushing through my head. Why did he save me? He could have let me die. That would be easier to explain.

"He said someone behind him jinxxed yoh but didn't see who it was because he was trying to save you. I thought he did. I mean, you are a Slytherin, why wouldn't he save you?" She states.

"Because I'm not pureblood, Hermione. What were you doing anyway? Why were you there?" I ask.

"We switched our potions books. You write all over yours." She says.

"I take notes in the margins in case I ever need to make it again." I shrug.

"And destroy a perfectly good book in the process." She says, sadly.

"I make it easier for myself in case I need to make it again." I pause. "But why would he save me? You know he's been my tormentor for years, not to mention yours too." I clarified.

"Yeah, but he's kind of obsessed with you, you know? He's meaner to you, but he's always finding ways to find you, and kind of stalks you. I mean, he knows you live in London. He knows your parents jobs. I wouldn't say he has a crush on you... but it seems that way." Hermione says, pissed off.

"Don't murderers find out where their victims live beforehand? If you ask me, he's just plain mean. And even if he did have a crush on me, which he doesn't, I wouldn't say yes if he asked me out." I state. I would absolutely say no, under every possible circumstance.

After a night in the hospital wing, I was free to go in the morning. No one stopped by all night after Hermione left, which was expected.

Once I changed into a fresh set of robes and started my first class of the day, charms with Hufflepuffs, I was fine.

Until I surprisingly got paired up with Malfoy. Flitwick is all for school unity, and I usually got paired up with a Hufflepuff for projects, though projects were rare.

"So, now that you have your partners assigned, I should probably have to tell you what you have to do." He chuckles. "Write and essay on how the charms, learned this semester, will help you with helping others. You and your partner will also show a demonstration on one example of helping others." He finishes. Oh boy. This will be a blast.

"Shit." I mutter to myself. Quite a few others do, too. I hate doing demonstrations, let alone with someone who I hate.

"Now, I will give you some class time to discuss and write with your partners. One scroll of parchment for each partner." He finshes. Everyone starts moving, besides me. I really do not want to do this.

"Y/L/N!" I hear Malfoy yell from across the room. I just want to sink into my seat and scream, but I walk towards him despite everything in my body telling me not to. He just almost killed me, and now I get to be paired up with him for a project. I mean, at the very least he's smart. Or has money to bribe the teachers. Either way, I'm getting a good grade.

I plop my things down on the seat next to him. He leans back in his chair and looks me in my eyes. His cold blue eyes didn't make me feel any less uneasy. They were harsh.

"Hey, uhm, y/n." He takes a deep breath in. "I'm sorry I made you fall down the stairs. Please don't tell anyone I carried you to the hospital wing." He says, looking around my face.

"And here I thought you were finally being nice to me. But all you care about is your reputation for being a 'bad boy'. Whatever Malfoy, you're too cliche. I'm not going to forgive you, but I certainly won't say to anyone that you carried me there. I mean, being touched by a pureblood? Disgusting." I say.

"What?" He stares at me in shock.

"What? You seem to think that mudbloods are so disgusting. Why can't I think purebloods are?" I say, smiling.

"That doesn't make any sense." He says.

"Neither does your thoughts about bloodlines. I mean, hell, you can't even tell what type of bloodline I am without talking to me or knowing me. None of your bullying rhetoric makes any sense. I mean, I know you're a prick and all, but for merlin's sake at least be able to pick a reason to bully others that makes sense." I state, pulling out a scroll of parchment.

He lets out a bit of a laugh. "You don't make any sense." He says.

"Wow, I've heard first years make a better comeback." I say.

"Yeah? Those are the only ones you're able to make friends with." He says, pulling out a scroll of his own.

"Speak for yourself. Only first years think you're scary. Hell, even the person you pushed down a flight of stairs isn't scared." I say, biting back.

"I-" He sighs. "I really am sorry about that, you know. I didn't mean to hurt you." He says.

"Yet you did. If you actually didn't mean to, you wouldn't have jinxed me at all." I say.

"I meant to scare you a little, not kill you." He looks around his parchment in thought.

"Thanks for the sentiment. You still hurt me." I say, grabbing my quill.

"I'm sorry for even jinxxing you, y/n." He says. I look over and see that he may actually mean that.

"Thank you." I reassured him.

"Fuck." He exclaims. I look back over to him.

"What?" I ask.

"I forgot my ink." He says.

"I have a spare ink pot." I dig through my things to try and find it, and when I do, I place it in front of him.

"You really don't have to." He pushes it away.

"It's a thank you for giving me a near death experience. Take it, it's yours." I say.

"Fine." He replies, and opens it angrily. I didn't know some one could be so angry at a gift the person they almost killed yesterday gave them.

Throughout the rest of the day went as normal. I talked to Hermione, but not about me getting paired up with Malfoy. She would just get mad at me for giving him ink and tell me that he wants to date me again. I absolutely don't want to date him. Do I?

#draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy #harry potter universe #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #hogwarts

16 notes · View notes