#hammer x stark (?)

[swan-of-sunrise]

His Girl Friday

Summary: At Tony Stark's forty-fourth birthday party, the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist and his longtime personal assistant finally address what's remained unspoken but secretly acknowledged between them for many, many years.

Pairings: Tony Stark X F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first time writing a Tony-centric fic and I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy!

His Girl Friday May 29th, 2014 Avengers Tower, New York City (Fanfiction Masterlist)

Being employed as Anthony Edward Stark’s personal assistant was a challenging and often times perilous job, and that was before he’d announced himself to the world as Iron Man. But (Y/N) (Y/L/N) was no ordinary personal assistant; she stood by the genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist when he vowed to stop producing weapons at Stark Industries after being imprisoned by terrorists for three long months, she stuck with him when his secret illness and subsequent erratic behavior drove nearly everyone else away, and she flat-out refused to believe he’d been killed at the hands of the Mandarin. It was evident that Tony Stark was the closest thing she had to a best friend. Lately, however, she’d begun to notice a significant shift in her feelings towards her employer, feelings that definitely went beyond friendship and feelings that she suspected he was feeling as well; she tried her best to keep them at bay, fearful of ruining such a meaningful friendship and throwing away the only job she’d ever truly enjoyed on a baseless suspicion, and thankfully, there were always plenty of distractions to keep herself preoccupied with in her unique line of work.

From her place at the back of the room, (Y/N) scanned over the enormous checklist in her hands to see if she’d missed anything important; the guests were chatting, dancing and taking full advantage of the open bar while the DJ was playing all of Tony’s favorite songs in honor of his forty-forth birthday. All in all, not one of the worst birthday parties I’ve ever planned for him, she thought to herself, a reluctant smile playing on her lips as she recalled the disastrous thirty-ninth birthday party that resulted in the Malibu mansion’s near destruction at the hands of Tony and Rhodey. That particular birthday party was the reason why she’d initially been a little nervous at the prospect of the Avengers attending the soiree, but it only took a brief glance around the bustling common room to see that they were the perfect guests; Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson played pool with Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, while Bruce Banner hovered near the back of the enamored crowd of people that surrounded a slightly-inebriated Thor and listened to his enthusiastic re-tellings of the adventures he’d had on Asgard. Pepper and Dr. Helen Cho were seated at the bar and chatted over glasses of Chardonnay while Happy was hyper-focused on his phone, no doubt catching up on an episode of Downton Abbey. With an inward chuckle, the personal assistant returned her attention to her lengthy list of tasks as the classic rock music continued to play.

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout a dance?”

“Sorry, but I’m worki-” (Y/N) looked up to see Tony Stark himself standing before her, looking as handsome as ever in his expertly tailored black tuxedo and flashing her his signature grin that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. “Hey, you. How’re you enjoying your birthday party?”

Tony tucked his hands into his pockets and shrugged noncommittally. “It’s one of your better-executed extravaganzas, I will say, but it would absolutely skyrocket to the top if I could spend the rest of the evening with my favorite personal assistant.”

(Y/N) arched a skeptical eyebrow. “Tony, I’m your only personal assistant.”

“Exactly, which meant you get the title by default. Yay you!” The billionaire gave her a small applause and she simply heaved an exasperated but fond sigh at his typical theatrics. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’ve been working your ass off all night and the Birthday Boy says that you should take a well-deserved break.” As his trademark smirk softened into a gentle smile, Tony took his hand out of his pocket and offered it to her in a clear invitation to join him. “Please?”

Although her heart was screaming at her to take his hand and allow him to whisk her into an evening of laughter and coy flirtations, the rational part of her knew that she had a job to complete and that anything more than a friendly conversation could jeopardize their platonic relationship. Masking her disappointment with a shrug and apologetic smile, (Y/N) shook her head and held up her checklist for him to see. “I’m sorry, Tony, but I still have so much to do; I’ve gotta do another check-in with Maria and the security team downstairs, make sure that the pastry chef brings out the cake on time, that the waiters serve the guests champagne at the right tempera-Tony!” She exclaimed when Tony’s hand shot out and snatched the checklist out of her grasp. “Anthony Edward Stark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of an obstacle,” Tony easily replied, holding the checklist above his head and snickering when she unsuccessfully attempted to snatch it back. “Seriously, Girl Friday, just one dance and I’ll let you get back to your boring planning. I’ll even avoid bugging you the rest of the night if it means I can spend a little time with one of my best friends.”

Tony’s rare sincerity softened (Y/N)’s heart, and she felt her resolve crumble as she stared into his gleaming brown eyes. “All right, one dance. Do you ever get tired with always getting your way?”

“Nope!” Tony happily popped the ‘p’ and tucked the checklist into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket before offering her his hand once again, and (Y/N) smiled to herself as the billionaire escorted her to the edge of the dance floor and whisked her into a slow dance to Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses.’ The warmth of his hand on the curve of her waist combined with the feel of his body brushing up against hers caused her heartbeat to quicken its pace, and she silently prayed that he wouldn’t notice the effect he had on her. “You know, I was being serious before. You’ve truly outdone yourself tonight, (Y/N), and can I just say that you look amazing?” Tony’s eyes briefly glanced down at her red chiffon evening gown and he gave her an appreciative nod. “Mm-hmm, hot-rod red is definitely your color. So, what’s your secret? How is it you can organize and schedule a genius-billionaire-playboy-philanthropist’s entire life and look drop-dead gorgeous while doing it?”

(Y/N) chuckled in amusement, the skirt of her gown swirling around her legs as he twirled her in a circle. “We all have our own superpowers; you fight aliens and terrorists in a red and gold Nitinol suit, and I oversee the hectic life of the man inside the suit to the best of my abilities.”

“Not sure which is the more dangerous job, to be honest.” Tony smirked, expertly guiding her back into his arms and holding her slightly closer than he had before. “But if I could do that death-glare that you’ve perfected over the years, then that would sure make my job a helluva lot easier and people would think twice before messing with Iron Man.” (Y/N) arched a brow and in response, Tony snickered. “Yep, there’s the death-glare!”

“I hate to burst your bubble, but this death-glare is tailor-made for Tony Stark and Tony Stark alone,” (Y/N) replied with a wry smile, and the billionaire’s grin widened as she looked into his sparkling brown eyes. They danced together in a comfortable yet expectant silence, almost as if one was waiting for the other to speak first, but both remained quiet while the 80’s power ballad continued to play; it wasn’t until she noticed the way he was biting his lower lip – one of the few tell-tale signs that there was something weighing heavy on the billionaire’s mind – that (Y/N) finally mustered her courage to address him. “You got a lot of cool presents this year, not to mention hundreds of thousands of dollars in charitable donations gifted in your name. Not too shabby, huh?”

Tony shrugged and replied, “I’m a sucker for gifts and I’m beyond stoked that we’ve raised so much in donations, but…” His eyes briefly flicked downwards to focus on the fluttering movement of her chiffon skirt, suddenly appearing as anxious as (Y/N) felt. “Can we play a quick round of Hypothetical Hold’em?”

A nostalgic feeling washed over (Y/N) at the mention of their old game. Back in the more impulsive and less responsible days of Tony Stark, it had been an effective form of decision-making created out of the billionaire’s respect for her opinions and general advice; they hadn’t played very many rounds in the years since he announced to the world that he was Iron Man and while she was happy that he’d grown and matured so much over the years, a small part of her missed their little game. “I’m a little rusty but I think I’ve still got it. Shoot.”

“A guy I know, Walter, he’s got just about everything he could possibly want in life, except the only thing he really wants is something he can’t have. You see,” Tony expertly dipped her and her breath hitched at the sudden movement, their eyes connecting as he continued. “There’s this woman – let’s call her Hildy – and he’s been in love with her for a while. And Hildy, she’s goddamn fantastic: smart, kind, funny, gorgeous, the whole enchilada.”

Heart sinking into her stomach, (Y/N) mustered up a small smile to hide her pain while he slowly righted her. “Hildy sounds wonderful. So, what’s stopping this Walter guy from telling her how he feels?”

“A couple of things, actually.” He took a deep breath. “She’s not just one of his best friends, but…you see, she’s also his personal assistant.”

The din of the party faded away as (Y/N)’s eyes widened in shock at the billionaire’s candid words; if not for the seriousness written across Tony’s face and the longing gleam that had formed in his brown eyes while he stared into hers, she would’ve assumed that he was pulling her leg. But she knew him, knew him far better than almost anyone else in the world, and it was clear as day that he was speaking directly from the heart. “…Oh.”

Tony nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in a tried and true attempt to hide behind a more lighthearted façade. “She’s taken such good care of him. He was a loose cannon for a long time…still is, in a way, but she’s gotten him through all the tough spots. He’s good friends with some ex-assassins, a super-soldier and a literal god, but she’s the strongest person he’s ever met and the only person he could ever imagine giving his heart to. But as much as he loves her, he’s not willing to roll the dice and risk losing her from his life forever; that’s why he…” Tony cast his gaze downwards and his hand gripped hers tight. “That’s why I never said anything before.”

“So, what changed?” She whispered as she slowly moved the hand that had been resting on his shoulder to press against the spot where his arc reactor once resided, feeling his rapid heartbeat and silently marveling at how perfectly it matched her own.

“Looking across the room and seeing you with your checklist; you’ve planned over a dozen successful birthday parties for me, but that didn’t stop you from treating tonight as if it was the first. It’s one of the thousand ways you show how much you care about me, and that’s what gave me the courage to walk to the back of the room and finally ask you for a dance.”

The booming opening chords of AC/DC’s ‘You Shook Me All Night Long’ filled the room and while more guests took to the dance floor for the lively song, (Y/N) grabbed Tony’s hand and practically dragged him away from the crowd, not stopping until they were tucked away from any prying eyes in Captain Rogers’ nearby office. When she closed the door behind them and turned around, she was met with an apprehensive-looking Tony and her subtle smile grew into an all-out grin as her eyes filled with happy tears. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Tony replied, his voice growing steady and his eyes filling with confidence at her obvious happiness. “C’mon, Girl Friday, you’re killing me here. Do you love me or what?”

Beaming with joy, (Y/N) brought her hands up to cup his face between them and nodded. “You’re such an asshat, but I love you with all my heart.” Tony’s grin grew to match her own and he leaned forward to kiss her, but was halted by her fingers covering his eager lips. “And in the spirit of covering both our asses, I’d like to take this moment to formally tenure my resignation, Mr. Stark.”

“Duly noted, Miss (Y/L/N). And since I’m such a good ex-boss, I’ll send your resume and a letter of recommendation to a certain defrosted super-soldier who could use all the assistance he can get.”

“Becoming Captain America’s personal assistant? It’ll be a cake-walk, but at least I’ll have my favorite hot mess to come home to.”

(Y/N) moved her hand and giggled at how quickly Tony’s arms wrapped around her waist to tug her closer, but her amusement soon gave way to passion as their lips finally met in a long overdue kiss.

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

A/N: I figured that we all could use a little fluff, and what better way to deliver it than in a friends-to-lovers trope-fest? Thank you all so much for reading and commenting, and I hope that you have a wonderful holiday season!

Fanfiction Masterlist

Marvel Taglist: @brooke0297​

All Works: @crowleysqueenofhell​ @momc95​ @groovy-lady

#his girl friday #tony stark x reader #tony stark x f!reader #iron man x reader #iron man x f!reader #tony stark #iron man #james rhodes #war machine #pepper potts #natasha romanoff #black widow #steve rogers #captain america #bruce banner #hulk #clint barton #hawkeye #thor odinson #maria hill #helen cho #nick fury #happy hogan #obadiah stane #ivan vanko #justin hammer #aldrich killian #marvel cinematic universe

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

Mood Board Madness

Three of the bingos I'm in (that I co-mod with @scottxlogan and @stormxpadme) have kicked up a new game - Mood Board Madness. We're trying two formats of the game - one we're trying out in the @marvelrarepairbingo's Discord and the other we're featuring in the @scottsummersbingo and the @scoganbingo. These are the mood boards I've come up with for them:

For the Scott Summers Bingo:

Scott Summers x Tony Stark, aka Mechanical Boy Band, Scott x Tony

Scott Summers x Kurt Wagner, why oh why did they stick Kurt in that ridiculous outfit and not in like...sexy jeans and tank tops????

Scott Summers x Bobby Drake

For the Scogan Bingo:

Scott x Logan, which Stormxpadme's already written a hella sexy little ficlet for, which you can read here.

And for the Marvel Rare Pair Bingo:

Justin Hammer x Loki, for the prompt Beach AU, but also College AU, which @kleenexwoman will appreciate.

Write up for this one: Loki decides to 'borrow' Thor's surfer van, Helga, (not realizing that Thor intentionally left the keys where Loki would find them and use them - after all, Thor's off on a trip with their dad) and invites his new friend/potential boyfriend on a trip to the beach on their spring break. Things might finally take a turn for the best where their flirting and occasional dates may have finally paid off during this trip.

#Mood Board Madness #marvelrarepair bingo #mrp bingo 2024 #scogan bingo #scottsummersbingo #ssb 2024 #Discord games #mood boards #Scott Summers #Cyclops #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Kurt Wagner #Nightcrawler #Bobby Drake #Iceman #James Logan Howlett #Wolverine #Loki #Justin Hammer #Juslo #dance magic dance #Justin x Loki #Scott x Tony #Scott x Kurt #Scott x Bobby #Scott x Logan #Scogan #Mechanical Boy Band

[pandagirl45]

Hammer: I like a man who can bench press me

Rhodey: *disgusted face*

Steve: :) *holding a broken bottle*

Clint: :0

Stone: tony, you'd be so much more prettier if you stayed quiet

Tony: >:/ *flips him off*

Bucky: *in the shadows getting ready to tackle him*

Natasha: >:]

#clint and natasha being supportive #hammer and stone fucking around and finding out #warshield #winteriron #the iron bros with their super soldiers #might do a flip side for bucky and steve #tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #james rhodes #tony stark x bucky barnes #james rhodes x steve rogers #clint barton #natasha romanov #incorrect quotes #lol silly thoughts

[marvelstarker-mha98]

The Runaway Distance Life Of A Little Stark Chapter 3: The Expo

Pairing: Tony Stark & daughter!Reader, Friday & reader Nick fury & reader Summary: Reader goes to the expo

Warning: bombs by justin robot, panick attack, almost dying, hiding, knife wielding, stealing Co author with: callikc next chapter

A few months had turned into more and now you had been stuck in the large warehouse for another six months. And, since cereal and water alone wasn't as sustainable as you'd hoped and had caused a few blackout spells, you'd been forced to get a job to pay for real food. It meant being especially careful when buying in case one of the cameras saw and identified you as (Y/n) Stark. Thankfully, though, the new look was holding up and you were doing okay.

In other news, the job wasn't as bad as you expected. It was simply waiting tables in a small cafe in a lesser known area of the city. It's what you were doing now, the cafe's logo on the small apron you wore, and a plate of bacon and eggs in your hand.

"Table four in the corner." Your boss instructed.

He was a nice guy, not a complete jerk but also not a pushover. You got very lucky in that department, even more so since he had no idea who you were.

You had now gotten used to the new look and started to feel more like you than ever before. You didn't have to wear anything expensive or over the top, the short hair was actually more convenient, and the new color was much prettier.

You went all out for the disguise, barely leaving anything from your old life around. Then again, since you had nothing to lose, it only seemed fitting to hide from everything and everyone in any way possible. You had gotten so used to running, you couldn't stop. It didn't matter if Obadiah was dead or not.

"Here you go. One bacon and eggs." You said politely, putting the plate on the table with a fabricated smile.

"Thank you, dear." An elderly man behind a newspaper said. As he put the paper down, you noticed a specific article about the once famous Stark Expo. A frown appeared on your face as you tried to read it. However, you realized you were lingering and had no choice but to walk away. But, fortunately, as you walked towards the back for more orders, you heard two men discussing that very thing.

"The Expo's opening ceremony is tonight, isn't it?"

"That's right. I can't believe it's been thirty-four years!"

"It's supposed to go on for an entire year!"

"I've got my ticket. For the end of the month."

"How did you manage that? They're supposed to be near impossible to get."

"I know. Courtesy of Justin Hammer himself."

Your blood ran cold. You'd never met the man, but Hammer was the CEO of Hammer Industries, a weapons manufacturer much like Stark Industries. You knew he hated your father and vice versa. Why on earth would he be giving out tickets to his rival's expo?

Because of past experience, your first thought was negative, that he might be plotting something like Obadiah had been. You wondered if you were being paranoid, but reminded yourself that it wasn't wise to risk it either way. You may not have liked your father much, but it didn't mean you wanted him victim to another plot or scheme. Even if Hammer was just being a nice guy, you wanted to see for yourself.

As the two talked about the upcoming Expo, you saw the guy with the ticket show his friend. He then placed it inside his pants pocket and you knew you had to get it somehow. You definitely didn't have the money to purchase one yourself so it was the only option.

All it took was a single glance around the cafe to form a plan. You grabbed the scolding hot fresh coffee and brushed yourself down, trying to make yourself somewhat presentable and less messy. The small heels of your boots clicked on the floor as you walked over to the two men, plastering a smile on your face.

"Refill, gentlemen?" You asked sweetly. Both nodded and moved their cups towards you as they talked about the Expo some more. You filled up the friend's cup first before moving on to the ticket holder's. You didn't stop pouring until it overflowed and spilled on his lap.

"Oh, my - I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed, putting on a look of embarrassment. "Allow me!"

As the man cursed and hissed in discomfort, you ran for a cloth and gently dabbed at the stains. As your hands neared the pocket with the ticket, you casually slipped one inside and retrieved it.

"Watch what you're doing in future or I'll have your fired!" The man seethed.

You nodded apologetically. "I'm so sorry, sir. Please accept a free beverage or meal in compensation."

He scoffed and waved you off. You kept the look of embarrassment on your face until you moved into the back room. Then it turned into a smirk as you studied the ticket.

It was for the night of the 31st, about twenty-four days away.

You had to remind yourself that you weren't going to see your father and reconcile, you were going to see what Hammer was up to.

Hopefully nothing. Hopefully you'd just get to go home to the warehouse and relax for once. -

That night, you decided to watch the opening ceremony of the Stark Expo anyway. If you were going to get in, you needed to know what to expect.

Naturally the entire thing was as flashy as humanly possible. Evidently your father paid no expense. There were fireworks of innumerable colors and patterns, lights giving a new color to the night sky, bathing it in pinks and blues and oranges and reds. The main stage was littered with people, all cheering and chanting Tony Stark's name. There were dancers up there too, all women dressed in crop tops and tiny shorts resembling the Iron Man costume.

When Tony arrived, he did it with fashion.

He flew over New York City, only to land in the scenario of the Stark Expo and host its opening ceremony for a cheering crowd. As they screamed his name, he praised his own achievements as Iron Man, mostly bringing the longest uninterrupted period of world peace. He talked about the purpose of the Expo, the importance of legacy, and how organizations from all over the world would join efforts for the sake of a better future.

You could scarcely believe it, just how long it had been since you last saw him. It was almost a year now with the months he was kidnapped and then all the months you'd been on the run. You wondered how everyone was doing.

You missed Happy, you missed Rhodey, and you missed Pepper. They were all so kind to you growing up despite the distance between yourself and your father. They raised you, and you wondered if you'd ever see them again, if they missed you as much as you missed them. But before you could ponder more on this, the reporter on the TV started talking again.

"We are coming to you live from the kickoff at the Stark Expo, where Tony Stark has just walked offstage. Don't worry if you can't make it down here tonight because this Expo goes on all year long! And I'm gonna be here checking out all the attractions and the pavilions and inventions from all around the world." With a sad smile, you looked down at the ticket you'd stolen.

The end of the month.

-

It seemed that the great Tony Stark couldn't stay out of trouble for long. Not even a day after the opening ceremony for the Expo you'd read that he was supposed to be attending the Senate Armed Forces Committee in Washington, D.C., about his Iron Man suit and the danger it posed if not shared with the world.

Naturally, you were curious and couldn't help watching as the cafe played it live. Then again, everyone was far too immersed in it to actually bother with the work so you easily went unnoticed.

The court room was packed with all kinds of people. Tony Stark, Senator Stern, and dozens of officials. You also noticed Pepper sitting behind your father.

"Mr. Stark, could we pick up now where we left off?" Senator Stern tried asking, banging his gavel to get your father's attention. It didn't seem to work. "Mr. Stark, please."

Eventually, he turned around. "Yes, dear?"

Some of the crowd chuckled and even you had to fight a grin at the lazy smile on his face.

"Can I have your attention?"

"Absolutely." Stern had the kind of the face that made him look constantly constipated. You didn't really like him. In fact, you didn't seem to like anyone since running away. Alongside the paranoia, you'd developed a lot of trust issues because of it.

The Senator went on to argue about if the Iron Man suit was deemed a weapon, something Tony strongly disagreed with. He cracked a few jokes as he did, making the crowd laugh and the senators aggravated.

Your dad had never been serious in these situations and it almost always got him into trouble. When you were younger, you thought it was cool and badass and you wanted to be exactly like him, but now you knew better.

But when Senator Stern called in Justin Hammer, you paid more attention. Your dad also straightened up, his laid back demeanor faltering. You narrowed your eyes, finding the arrival even more curious. You couldn't shake the bad feeling you were getting from this Hammer guy.

He went on to argue that even though Tony might have believed he was doing good, there are threats in the world that he can't foresee. That was when Senator Stern called in Rhodey.

You stood in surprise, almost knocking a stack of plates over. The photographers on the television went wild, snapping every shot they could. Tony stood to greet his best friend and they shared a few quiet words before taking their seats again.

He was made to read a selected paragraph of a report made on the suit, but it was obvious the senators wanted it to sound bad. Rhodey tried to explain the final summary was more in favor of the suit than against, but the attempts were futile.

"I'd like to go on and show, if I may, the imagery that's connected to your report." He said, looking at Rhodey still.

Rhodey seemed uncomfortable. "I believe it is somewhat premature to reveal these images to the general public at this time."

"With all due respect, Colonel, I understand. And if you could just narrate those for us, we'd be very grateful." Knowing there wasn't a way out, he just motioned for them to get it over with. The screen in the corner showed a series of recorded images, mostly of places that looked hidden or that they should be confidential.

"Intelligence suggests that the devices seen in these photos are, in fact, attempts at making manned copies of Mr. Stark's suit. This has been corroborated by our allies and local intelligence on the ground indicating that these suits are quite possibly, at this moment, operational."

You sighed. This wasn't looking good for him. Your dad was being played out as an inconsiderate menace, and, despite your complex opinion on him, you knew he wouldn't do this on purpose. When he leaned over, his phone in hand, you watched curiously.

When you realized he had just 'commandeered' the screens, you sighed a second time. No doubt he was about to show them all up with something.

True enough, you observed as the hijacked screen began to show videos of failed attempts at replicating the suit. There were videos from North Korea, Iran, and, much to everyone's surprise, one from Hammer.

"Is that Justin Hammer?" Tony asked, pretending to be shocked. "How did Hammer get in the game?"

Hammer himself was desperately fiddling with the monitor, trying to turn everything off. The screen showed the suit failing miserably in a mini explosion of sparks and loose wires. Hammer looked incredibly embarrassed as he finally turned the screen off.

Your dad went on to explain that most countries were about five-ten years off even coming close to his design and Hammer was left to make excuses for the video, claiming the person inside the suit wasn't harmed. Senator Stern was bright red as he stood up.

"I think we're done, is the point that he's making. I-I don't think there's any reason to-" "-The point is, uh, you're welcome, I guess." Tony stated in a nonchalant manner. "Because I'm your nuclear deterrent. It's working, we're safe, America is secure. You want my property? You can't have it. But I did you a big favor. I've successfully privatized world peace."

He stood up, turning to address the crowd. He raised his arms and threw up two peace signs. Everyone started clapping and cheering, standing from their seats also.

"I tried to play ball with these ass-clowns." He laughed.

"Fuck you, Mr. Stark." Senator Stern said. "Fuck you, buddy."

The clapping was only getting louder and he could barely be heard. Tony simply smiled like he owned the world as he put on some sunglasses and blew kisses.

You stood in silence, not sure if you were in more disbelief or amazement. Probably an even amount of both. A small part of you suddenly felt proud to be a Stark, but you were understandably a little embarrassed with his antics.

However, Hammer caught your attention again. The way he was looking at the senators screamed guilt and the bad feeling in your gut got worse. If your issues weren't bad enough, they definitely were now, with the revelation he'd been trying to replicate your dad's suit.

-

It had been about a week and a half since the congressional hearing and you were tinkering with the jet in the warehouse again. You still hadn't quite figured out what it was, but it looked a lot better than when you'd first found it. According to FRIDAY, your work had greatly paid off and it was now flyable. You were just adding random little perks to pass the time. As you worked, you had Metallica's Enter Sandman playing through the speakers you'd installed. You hummed along to the lyrics, occasionally pausing to discuss things with FRIDAY.

You were thinking about installing some security measures. The warehouse seemed like a fitting home for you now. It was isolated, large enough to hide in, and backed by a large lake. Plus you already had so much stuff in there, it'd just be a pain to move it all.

"FRIDAY, how we doing?" You asked over the music.

"The jet is 94.7% operational, Miss."

"Nice." You stood up, hands on your hips as you looked around. "Hey, what do you think about using some Merlin engines to give this thing a kick?"

"It would be a risk, but a state-wide search suggests a contractor nearby may have the materials needed."

"Brilliant. Thank you."

You'd have to steal it. You'd gotten used to doing that recently.

As you finished up, wiping your hands on a rag, you turned down the music. You would have turned it back up since Halestorm came on, but something on the television caught your attention instead.

"Well, what's the use in having and owning a race car if you don't drive it?"

The Monaco Grand Prix. Your dad.

Was he driving?

"You've gotta be shitting me." You muttered, quickly turning up the volume to listen.

Why was he driving? Was he not aware of how dangerous it was? Or was he aware, but simply not caring about it?

You watched him get in the car with the original driver storming off. He seemed to relish in the moment, all those eyes on him. You scoffed, moments like these being the ones that made you remember how he never had time for you. It hurt.

When the race began, you couldn't deny the worry shining through the hurt and annoyance. The chances of someone dying in the races were slim, but the chance of being hurt were much higher. You just had to hope your dad was competent enough to drive properly.

And things were going well. They really were. Until some man walked right onto the track and quite literally tore one of the cars in half with some kind of electrical whips. Looking closer, your eyes widened when you noticed the arc reactor in his chest. It was almost identical to your dad's.

"Who the hell are you?" You muttered, subconsciously leaning even closer.

He looked rough, his hair long and greasy and his tanned skin covered in dirt. The top half of his jumpsuit was burned away from the arc reactor. He looked like a convict.

Your heart damn near shattered when he tore your dad's car in half as well. The bigger part cartwheeled through the air and landed with a sickening bang against the side fence, upside down. "No!" You shouted, grabbing the television. "Dad... Come on. Get out. Come on!"

More race cards skidded to a halt behind the strange man, causing a chain reaction explosion as he stalked towards the wrecked Stark vehicle. However, when he again struck it with one of the whips, you could just about make out that there was no driver. Your dad made it out.

And, true enough, he attacked the man from behind, hitting him on the head with some scrap from the wreckage. The man retaliated and your dad tried to get out but it wasn't looking so good. Until a new car arrived on the scene. It was Happy and Pepper, and the man tore off the side of the car before your dad managed to grab the case containing his suit.

The fight was fairer that time around and your dad successfully defended himself for a while, even defeating this strange man by tearing out the arc reactor. The man was taken away after but only laughed after.

You were so on edge that tears were clouding your vision when you all but collapsed in pure relief.

Your dad was okay. Barely. -Tony POV-

Celebrating his birthday had always been a big affair for Tony. Bands, plenty of booze and food, loud music booming throughout all of Malibu, and even strippers had been involved. But this year it was different.

He was dying, he knew that, but no one else did. He was never one for birthday wishes or pleas, but if there was one thing he wanted, it was you. His little girl. Almost a year of your absence had hit him harder than he ever expected. He wished to have you back.

His searches around the globe had turned up nothing. He didn't know what he'd been expecting considering how smart you were. The only true bonding you ever had was when you watched him create JARVIS but he was well aware you observed everything in the house and were more than capable of inventing something to hide yourself.

He wondered why you hadn't come back after Obadiah's death. He knew the man was the reason you ran away, and he was furious at the threat he made to you, but it was safe. Surely you had to know that.

He was drinking more than usual that night for many factors. You being missing and the fact he was dying were the main ones.

And Rhodey was getting annoyed by the behavior. He'd had enough, especially when he'd just stuck his neck out for the guy.

He'd taken one of Tony's earlier suits and crashed the party, telling people to get out before facing off against his friend.

"You don't deserve to wear one of these." He told him. "Shut it down."

Tony rolled his eyes and looked at the DJ setup. "Goldstein."

A very nervous looking man popped his head over the laptop. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Give me a phat beat to beat my buddy's ass too." He giggled as Another One Bites the Dust started playing.

"What about (Y/n)?" Rhodey asked suddenly. "Do you think she would have wanted this? I don't." Tony's expression turned stone cold, a complex arrangement of hate, sorrow, guilt, and anger flashing through his eyes. He looked at his best friend, breathing heavier than before.

"Don't say her name." He warned.

"Tony, she is your daughter! She did everything to try and get you to like her but she got nothing in return. For once in your life just think about her and stop this. (Y/n)-"

Before he could finish, Tony had fired a repulsor beam, sending him flying backwards.

After that, the fight began.

-(Y/n) POV-

It was time.

As you walked into the Expo, you wore plain pants, a striped shirt, and a white hoodie covered by a denim jacket. The hood was up, hiding your identity, and you stayed at the back of every crowd. You weren't here for the fun of the Expo or to see your dad, you were there to see if Hammer was up to something.

His 'advanced weapon systems' presentation and demonstration was supposed to start any second. You had no idea what it was, but the vibe you were getting from that man was still over the top and extremely weird. You didn't trust him as far as you could throw him.

As Pick Up the Pieces started playing from the PA, Hammer waltzed onto the stage, practically bathing in the blue light as he approached the lectern up front.

"Yeah!" He cheered when the music died down and the clapping got quieter. "That's what I'm talking about. Thanks for coming. Ladies and gentlemen, for far too long this country has had to place its brave men and women in harm's way. But then the Iron Man arrived and we thought the days of losing lives were behind us."

As he started the rant, you rolled your eyes, already fed up. You didn't know why you felt so annoyed with everything lately but you assumed it was the stress of keeping a low profile at an event such as this. After all, the Stark Expo wasn't just your dad's thing, but it was your legacy too. You were a Stark whether you liked it or not. "Ladies and gentlemen." Hammer began again. "Today I present to you the new face of the United States military. The Hammer drone!"

From the back, several drones, built in a way that resembled the Iron Man suit, rose on platforms. They were large and chunky, and there were about eight for each type of division including army, navy, air force, and marines. The crowd went wild but you remained stony-faced, eyes narrowed at the drones.

They weren't like your dad's suit which was light and somewhat non-threatening in appearance, they were very clearly meant for offence only and were extremely intimidating.

But these thoughts were shaken from your head as Rhodey showed up in a suit that was actually one of your dad's, only military modified. Had he stolen it or had he been given it? Either way, Hammer introduced him as the War Machine.

But then came the rumble in the distance. The sound of thrusters.

You turned and were one of the first to see the light streaking through the sky as it headed for the stage. Quicker than lighting you pulled her hood further down your face to block your identity as the Iron Man whizzed overhead and landed on the stage. The people around went absolutely wild.

Your dad and Rhodey stood together, waving, but you knew something was up. Hammer tried to play it casual but it was obvious he was seething. That was when the minigun attached to Rhodey's shoulder locked onto your dad, startling everyone. The drones followed suit.

Something was wrong.

Your dad shot into the air and the drones, as well as Rhodey, followed within the second, the guns firing and smashing the glass ceiling.

"Shit!" You cursed, ducking and covering your head as shards crashed all around.

A couple scratched your hands, but the pain was barely noticeable as people shoved past in an attempt to escape. About four times you almost fell to the floor and twice you stumbled into pavilion pillars. Once outside, the chaos was somehow worse. People ran shouting and yelling, Hammer drones were wreaking havoc and destroying things and killing people, there were small fires brewing from explosions, and the air was polluted by smoke and gunfire. You felt your breath hitch and your insides squirm as the drones planted themselves in the ground and shot at both your dad and the innocents.

A cry nearby caught your attention and you turned to see a boy in an Iron Man mask staring up at one of these drones. He didn't seem afraid, but the drone had clearly surprised him. You ran forward, a protective instinct you didn't even know you had taking over.

As the drone aimed the minigun at the boy, you jumped up, pushing the large barrel as upward as you could and making it shoot up at the sky instead. Completely by coincidence, you managed to shoot down one of the other drones in the process. But you didn't have time for victory.

The drone turned on you and you did an extremely fast assessment, picking up every detail you could. You noticed a tiny gap between the body and head and reached into your pocket for the knife you had hidden. You shoved the blade inside the small gap and immediately felt wires inside snap.

The drone malfunctioned and stuttered, sparks flying from inside. You finished it off by tearing the knife back out and pulling the entire thing down to the floor. It was much harder than it initially seemed but you managed.

The boy you'd saved stared up at you but you couldn't see his face from the mask. You couldn't tell if he was terrified or in awe. Another drone flew past and knocked into you, however, sending you flying into a pillar nearby.

You coughed as the air was knocked from your body. Rubble fell around and you could only imagine the mess you looked like. The drone that took you marched to the boy like the first one had and pointed a gun at him again.

But before you could save the kid a second time, your dad appeared and took it down with a repulsor beam.

Time seemed to freeze. Your breathing became shallow and shaky and the surroundings darkened as your nails clawed at the concrete ground in an attempt to stand. From the top of your head to the tip of your toes, your entire body was screaming.

You staggered backwards, hitting the pillar again, and the world started to swirl around. You couldn't focus because the place was moving in circles. It was like sitting in a chair on the edge of a cliff and being about to fall.

You tried to talk, but only a hoarse whine left your lips. You tried to move, but were rooted in place because of the fear. Your legs ached to run, to run and embrace your dad, apologize for running and scaring everyone.

But you didn't.

He was gone before you could force yourself into action. It was only the little boy looking around in worry that stirred you back into reality. After a shaky breath, you ran over, kneeling in front of him.

"Hey, kiddo." You tried to smile despite the tears in your eyes and the chaos unleashing. "Where's your family?"

He couldn't speak but somehow managed to point in a direction with a shaky hand. You picked him up and took off, almost bumping into a man wearing a suspiciously clean suit on the way. You paid him no mind, however, and didn't stop until a couple ran up to you, yelling for the boy. They thanked you before taking him and running.

You spun around, on the verge of a panic attack as the explosions and screams berated your senses. -

A week had passed since the close encounter with your father. You could barely process being that close to him after so long. Even now you wondered if you should have moved.

Would it have been worth it? Exposing yourself after so long? All those months of running and hiding... Would it have been a waste?

You shook your head, not wanting to think about it. You'd made it this far alone so what was a few more weeks? And all that Expo business was done anyway. Hammer had been exposed, and the drones all destroyed.

But the last thing you expected to see as your warehouse came into view was a giant aircraft in the middle of the clearing with dozens of armed people in uniform piling out. Your heart stopped for a second and every bone in your body screamed at you to turn and run. You were about to, but more of those people miraculously appeared behind you as well.

"Who the hell are you?!" She exclaimed, reaching for her knife despite knowing it wouldn't do any good.

"Please stay calm." One of the group, a woman, said, her hand raised to show she wasn't going to shoot. "Head inside."

"Uh..." You looked at all the uniformed people with her, a brow raised. "How about no?"

"Trust me, it's easier if you go willingly."

"Yeah, that makes me just wanna say no again."

The woman sighed. "There's someone who wants to meet you. Take a look and you can stab us with your cutlery after if you don't like it."

You furrowed your brows and she nodded to the knife hidden in your pocket. You knew then going quietly was perhaps the only option. You were most definitely outnumbered and you didn't think a knife would do much against innumerable guns.

"Fine." You raised your hands. "But I can't promise I won't break both your legs if I don't like this." She merely chuckled and motioned towards the warehouse. You asked questions as she guided you inside but she didn't say a word. You first thought was that she was a spy or something since she was dressed all in black with a tight bun holding her hair away from her face, and all of a sudden you panicked.

Obadiah's threat. What if these people were part of it? What if they were there to kill you?

You decided to make a run for it but before you could, a man with a deep voice spoke up.

"Hello, (Y/n)."

He wore a long leather trench coat, all black, and had an eye patch covering a badly scarred eye. Whatever happened to him, it didn't seem pretty.

"Who are you?" You asked hesitantly.

He gave a smile that more resembled a smirk, and clasped his hands behind his back. "My name is Director Fury. I'm here to talk to you about SHIELD."

#tony stark #ironman #Nick Fury #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark imagines #mcu #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #peter parker #Justin Hammer #friday #jarvis

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 ! (𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 𝒮𝒰𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒰)

geto suguru x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ size kink ﾉ huge size difference ﾉ orgasm denial ﾉ ddlg dynamics ﾉ creampie ﾉ passing out / unconsciousness ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ૮꒰◌´ତ `◌ ꒱ྀིა‎

i dnt know what exactly happened but i must confess that 2day i caught feelings for sugu . . out of the blu . . 4 no reason . . i am hopelessly in love with the geto sugubaby. shbdhn he makes me feel fuzzy, okay ? ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

You choked on a hiccup, dewy eyes peering up at him, the tears clinging to your lashes, a few fat drops sliding down your cheeks. Your quivering lips parted to speak, but the words stuck in your throat. It was difficult to focus on anything but the thick, pulsating cock stuffed inside of you. Geto smiled down at you, the expression almost tender, a stark contrast to the lewd way his hips rocked against yours. "Come on, pretty, don't keep quiet." He said, his voice soft and reassuring. "Talk to daddy, tell him what you're feeling." He prompted, his cock throbbing deep inside of you, stretching you open. You let out a pitiful sob, the sound followed by a breathless whine. "I-I'm.. full." You finally managed to choke out, the word sounding foreign, as if it had slipped off your tongue without permission. "Full?" Geto questioned, his brow arching slightly, a hint of amusement flickering in his dark eyes.

He shifted, his cock dragging against your sensitive walls, your body jolting at the sensation. You felt dizzy, drunk off the feeling of his thick shaft spreading you open, the heat from his body emitting through his skin, warming you up. Your limbs trembled, your legs spread wide around his hips, his arms encasing you as he leaned down, his breath ghosting over your skin. "You're not full, baby, you're barely halfway." He chuckled, his lips brushing against your ear. You whimpered, a fresh wave of tears springing to your eyes, a shaky breath escaping you. "I'm n-not…I can't." You whispered, your voice trembling.

Geto shushed you, his fingers digging into your skin, the pressure painful, but somehow soothing. "Of course you can." He murmured, his tone gentle. He kissed the corner of your mouth, his tongue darting out to lap up the saltiness from your tears. You shivered, your hands clutching at the blankets beneath you, trying desperately to steady yourself, but it was a futile effort. You felt like a ragdoll, boneless and pliant beneath his strong frame, his massive cock buried inside of you.

"D-daddy.." You whispered, unable to keep the word from tumbling out of your mouth, your head spinning. You were sure you were going to pass out. Your entire body was tingling, every nerve ending alight, a fire blazing in the pit of your belly, making you feel feverish. "I know, I know. It's so big, isn't it?" You nodded, the movement slow and clumsy, your heart hammering against your ribcage. "You're taking it so well, my sweet girl." Geto cooed, his hips snapping forward, forcing his cock deeper into your cunt.

You cried out, your back arching off the bed, the pain mixing with the pleasure, making you feel delirious with ecstasy. You could feel the tip of his cock nudging against the entrance to your womb, the pressure making you squirm.

"So tight." Geto hummed, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his hands sliding up to grip your hips, holding you still. "Can't believe you can even fit this much of me in here. Daddy's proud, princess.." He chuckled, the sound sending a chill down your spine. Your breath caught in your throat, a small sob bubbling out of you, more tears spilling down your face. It felt like you were drowning, the sensations overwhelming, the feeling of him filling you up, stuffing you so full, so complete, was too much for you to bear. Your entire world was reduced to the way his cock stretched you open, the way his girthy length dragged against your slick inner walls, the way his happy trail brushed against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your body.

"Daddy, daddy, daddy.." You babbled, your vision blurring, the sound of his voice fading away. You felt as if you were floating, drifting on a cloud of bliss, every inch of your skin tingling.

Geto hummed, his voice a distant murmur, the words washing over you. You felt weightless, a sense of peace and contentment washing over you, a wave of euphoria crashing over you, drowning you in its intensity.

"I c-can t-take it, I can take it, d-daddy.." You slurred, the words heavy on your tongue, your limbs turning to lead, your eyelids fluttering closed. "Course you can." Geto crooned, his hips rolling against yours, his cock pumping into you, a low moan spilling from his lips. "You're my good girl, aren't you? You were made for this, weren't you? Made for my cock?" And with a final thrust, his length embedded in you completely, your little cunt taking every last inch of him.

You couldn't tell if the darkness behind your eyelids was the result of unconsciousness, or if you were simply too dazed to open them. A dull ache radiated from your hips, your muscles protesting the position. But the pain was secondary, drowned out by the waves of ecstasy that rolled through you, making your limbs go slack.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your heart thudding loudly in your ears. You were vaguely aware of a wet, sticky warmth dripping down your thighs, a thick, heady scent filling the air. Geto's scent. His seed. The thought sent a shiver through you, a tiny whine escaping your lips.

"Daddy.." You whispered, reaching a hand out, blindly searching for him. You felt a large, warm hand wrap around yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "I'm here, pretty. I'm right here." Geto murmured, the smile in his tone audible. You relaxed at the sound of his voice, letting out a contented sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter open, blinking the tears away, finally managing to focus on his face.

He was hovering above you, a lazy grin spread across his features. "Hey there, beautiful." He purred, his free hand reaching up to caress your cheek, wiping away the streaks of wetness. You stared up at him, unable to formulate a response, the words stuck in your throat. His expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your bottom lip. "My good girl. Such a sweet thing. Taking my cock so well. Such a good, perfect girl." He cooed, his tone almost reverent. You let out a weak, breathy giggle, the praise causing petals to bloom in your chest, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. Your gaze flickered to his face, drinking in his features, a small, shy smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. He smiled back, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your forehead, the gesture sending a jolt through you. You could feel the weight of him bearing down on you, his thick cock still buried inside of you, plugging up your little hole.

You moaned with need, the sound coming out as a breathless plea, your pussy clenching around him, the sensation eliciting a low growl from him. You gasped, arching up, seeking more contact, more friction. He smirked, a devilish glint in his dark eyes, his hips deciding a shallow roll, the tip of his cock brushing against the entrance to your womb. You mewled, bucking against him, grinding against his pelvis, desperate for release. He laughed, the sound rich and deep, the sound reverberating in your core. You whined in response, the noise catching in your throat, the sound turning into a keening cry as the pace of his thrusts picked up, his cock slamming into you, the force of the action causing your head to spin.

You writhed beneath him, your body trembling, a dull ache pulsing through your sore muscles. You could feel his gaze on you, hot and heavy, watching as you came apart, arousal juicing your folds, soaking the bed sheets. "You're such a messy little thing, aren't you?" He hummed, his voice laced with amusement, a hint of pride creeping into his tone. "All wet and dripping. Just for me." He purred, his cock pulsating, twitching inside of you, his fingers digging into your waist, his grip bruising. You could feel yourself unraveling, the coil in the pit of your belly threatening to snap, the pleasure building inside of you, the tension mounting. Your head was swimming, a rush of euphoria flooding your system, the heat pooling in your abdomen. "N-neeed- hic need t-to cum." Your voice cracked, broken words spilling from your mouth, his length driving you to the brink.

"Not yet, pretty. Not until I say so." He growled, his tone laced with a dangerous edge, his thrusts becoming rougher, more urgent. "Gotta be patient, yeah princess? Gotta wait for daddy to fill you up." He hissed, his voice taking on a strained note, his pace faltering, his movements stuttering. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, beads of sweat dripping down his brow, his jaw clenching. You could feel his cock pulsating, a tell-tale sign that he was close.

You squirmed, your hands grasping at his biceps, your nails digging into his skin, trying to anchor yourself. He groaned, his eyes squeezing shut, his grip on you tightening. "Fuck.. f-fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum in that pretty pussy of yours.. gonna make a mess of that tight cunt." He grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, his hips snapping against yours, a desperate, primal hunger taking over.

His cock slammed into you, his tip jabbing against the entrance to your cervix, and finally, finally erupting that sticky, creamy goodness into your aching womb. His cum shot into you in thick, powerful ropes, painting the inside of your cunt, filling you up to the brim, coating your inner walls. You squealed, your body convulsing, screaming for permission, and when he gave you that last, guttural command, you came undone.

Your body went rigid, a choked cry spilling from your lips, your pussy clenching around his cock, milking him, the pressure unbearable. You felt as if your soul had left your body, the pleasure wracking through you, your entire body shaking, your mind going blank. Geto shuddered, his cock twitching inside of you, emptying himself deep into your core. You could feel his hot cum oozing out of you, the sticky fluid dripping down your thighs, a warm, syrupy sensation trickling between your legs. You gasped for air, your vision blurring, colors bursting before your eyes, fireworks going off in your skull.

"S' much c-cum..daddy.." You whined, the words catching in your throat, your voice trembling. Geto smirked, a low rumble of a laugh emanating from him, his gaze roaming over you, taking in the sight of your ruined body, your swollen, tender lips, the smear of mascara beneath your eyes. He smiled down at you, the expression a mix of adoration and smug satisfaction, his thumb tracing along the curve of your cheek, pads of his fingers grazing over your jaw. "Mhm.. so much, baby. I'm sorry. I can't help myself, you know that. So sweet, so innocent. I just can't control myself when I'm around you.." He purred, the words dripping with honey, his voice smooth and silky, sending shivers down your spine. "You make me want to do bad things. Naughty, nasty things." his dark eyes met yours, a wicked gleam flashing in them, the pupils dilated, nearly engulfing the irises.

"Like what, daddy?" You breathed, the words sounding distant, faraway. Geto smiled, his teeth glinting in the moonlight, the sight of him baring his fangs at you, a predator poised to strike, making your heart stutter. "..Why don't i show you?"

#୧ ‧₊˚ ☆ athena's creations ! #getou suguru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #jjk suguru #jjk geto #suguru geto #getou suguru x you #suguru geto smut #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu suguru #suguru x reader #suguru x you #geto x female reader #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru x y/n #jjk x fem!reader

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ One of your girls .✦ 」

[Theodore Nott x reader]

Summary: Theodore Nott was the love of my life, the one I'd trade my whole world for. But this summer, I yearned for a different role in his life, even if it meant becoming just one of his girls

Warning:fluff,angst,smut, oral (f!received), fingering, lying about virginity,(+18)

Words:8k

In this world of labels there are , "good boys" and "bad boys," Theodore Nott existed in a category all his own. like devil in disguise, but manlier. And definitely hotter by like a thousand degrees .

As I stood there, captivated by his interaction with a Gryffindor girl, two stark realizations crashed over me. First, I desperately needed to refine my Marauder mischief skills. And More importantly, I needed to bridge the chasm between myself and Theodore. This summer, I wouldn't just be his little sister's best friend; I craved a different role in his life.

Lana's voice, sharp and cutting through my reverie, jolted me back to reality. "Y/N, are you with me?"

"Forgive me, my thoughts wandered," I muttered, composing myself with practiced neutrality.

“I was just saying, I really want Dad to approve this environmental camp," she continued, her enthusiasm undeterred.

"Absolutely," I agreed, forcing a smile. "Those Larus birds undeniably deserve all the protection we can offer." However, my gaze remained tethered to Theodore and his seemingly animated conversation with the Gryffindor girl.

"Right?" Lana beamed. "Perhaps Theo or Christian could help us sway Father?" Lana suggested hopefully.

"An excellent suggestion," I managed, a barbed comment forming on my tongue.

Perhaps your brother would engage in more productive activities than fraternizing with the Gryffindor girl. But I swallowed the retort.

"Christian can be a bit overprotective, bless his heart," Lana began, "but I do believe the 'puppy-dog eyes' technique, as he calls it, might work on Theo," Lana mused cheerfully.believe

A pang of curiosity shot through me. Could this "puppy eyes" technique be effective on Theo as well? I stifled the urge to inquire.

As if sensing my scrutiny, I almost choked on a gasp when he turned, our eyes locking for a beat too long. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, he resumed his conversation with the Gryffindor girl. My mind conjured elaborate – and disturbing – daydreams of her demise.

"Are you alright?" Lana's voice held a hint of worry.

"Perfect," I muttered, the word a lie heavy on my tongue. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the backdrop of my escalating jealousy.

"Then let's proceed," she declared, taking my hand in hers.

The world became a blur as we walked, the proximity to Theo and his unwelcome companion amplifying my agitation. My pulse pounded in my ears, a relentless drumbeat against the backdrop of muted classroom sounds.

Finally, we passed them. Still, Theo's gaze lingered on me, a silent connection that sent a wave of heat through my body. Just as abruptly, , Then in a move that stole the breath from my lungs, the Gryffindor girl cupped Theodore's jaw, pulling him down for a rough, aggressive kiss. I averted my eyes, a wave of nausea washing over me.

“ EWWW “ Lana muttered, mirroring my own disgust.

“Perhaps," I ventured, my voice tight with unspoken emotions, "you should utilize those puppy dog eyes sooner before he gets distracted again “

Potions became a blurry mess of bubbling cauldrons and swirling fumes. Snape's usual scathing commentary faded into the background, as my mind replayed the scene on loop: Theo, his lips locked with the Gryffindor girl, a stranger who somehow managed to snag his attention. Her triumphant smirk as she pulled away felt branded onto my eyelids.

Jealousy gnawed at me like a rogue Flobberworm. Every stolen glance his way felt like a betrayal, a secret message only I could decipher. Was this what Lana meant by "puppy eyes"? Because right now, all I wanted to do was unleash my inner dragon and set the damn girl ablaze.

The Great Hall echoed with the boisterous chatter of lunchtime. As I joined my friends at the Slytherin table, a familiar warmth washed over me – camaraderie, yes, but something more potent simmered beneath the surface. My stolen glance at Theo, however, sent a jolt of conflicting emotions. He was already there, his dark eyes locked on mine for a lingering moment before he averted his gaze.

A playful tug on my braid brought me back to reality. Lana, a mischievous glint in her eyes, was trying to get me out of my misery that she can’t quite understand what gets me into

Mattheo, being his usual blunt self, decided to stir up some trouble, "Just want to make sure the rumors are true. Did our little Y/N break Cedric Diggory's heart?"he said, causing Theo's gaze to intensify on me, igniting a mix of excitement and nervousness within me.

"Sorry, what?" I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

"It's okay, y/n, we can see that you're at that age for those kinds of things. What puberty did to you can't go unnoticed,"

My cheeks burned a furious red. The air crackled with tension as Blaise's words hung in the air.

Before I could retort, a cold fury replaced Theo's usual nonchalance. "Shut the hell up, Zabini, before I make you."

His sharp tone silenced the table. I stole a glance at him, he looked relaxed despite his tone , his eyes locked in a silent battle with Blaise. And that was well- very awkward

Matteo, unfazed by Theo's outburst, pressed on. "Back to the broken heart thing, did you really ditch a date with Diggory?"

My cheeks burned under the scrutiny of the table. "It wasn't like that, he understood," I stammered, desperately trying to salvage the situation. "I just said I had to study."

Lana, oblivious to my boiling frustration, jumped in. "No, no, she's just being humble! Cedric was head over heels! He was moping around for days after she said no, his heart practically shattered. Still he can't seem to take his eyes off her today."

I shot her a glare that could curdle milk, but she just winked back, clearly enjoying the drama.

"Why'd you turn him down, then?" Blaise pressed, his amusement evident.

Theo, however, surprised everyone. "She's still too young for that," he muttered. Really? The audacity! My hand twitched, a silent promise of violence aimed at his handsome but infuriating face.

My temper flared. "First of all," I stated, fixing him with a hard stare, "I'm only a year younger than you. Second, I said no because it wouldn't be fair to either of us. I already have feelings for someone else."

A collective gasp rippled through the group.

"You never told me that!" Lana exclaimed, her eyes wide with surprise.

"No," I said, trying to project a confidence I didn't entirely feel. My gaze locked with Theo's, daring him to look away. "I was planning on telling you… tonight."

"Who is this mystery man?" Matteo leaned forward, his tone laced with curiosity. "Do we know him?"

"No, you don't," I lied smoothly, a flicker of defiance sparking in my chest. "He graduated."

A wave of disappointment washed over Blaise's face. "Oooh, Y/N, you sneaky minx! Who knew you had that in you?"

The Hogwarts Express rumbled to a halt, signaling the end of the semester and the glorious (or dreaded, depending on who you asked) freedom of summer. Bidding farewell to Lana, whose eyes held a knowing glint that made me sweat, I trudged off the train, eager to reach the familiar comfort of my own home.

Living just two houses away from Theo and Lana meant constant proximity, which could be either a blessing or a curse depending on how things unfolded. The lie about a mysterious older boyfriend sat heavy in my stomach. It was a desperate attempt to buy myself some breathing room, a chance to navigate the confusing maze of emotions swirling within me.

The oppressive heat of summer hung heavy in the air, mirroring the nervous knot in my stomach. Lana's father had finally approved the conservation camp, and while I was happy for her, a pang of disappointment shot through me. That meant less time to figure things out with Theo.

Taking a deep breath I slipped into a summer dress – the kind that hugged my curves perfectly and left a trail of cool air on my skin.

Taking a deep breath, I crossed the two houses separating our homes and knocked on Theo's door. My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs. What was I even doing here?

The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Finch, the Nott family housekeeper, her face etched with surprise. "Miss Y/N? What a surprise! Mr. Theo is the only one home, I'm afraid. Miss Lana's still out."

My cheeks flushed crimson. This was not the grand entrance I'd envisioned. "Oh!" I feigned surprise. "Goodness, how forgetful of me. I just realized I left something in Lana's room. Terribly sorry to bother you, Mrs. Finch."

The housekeeper's expression softened. "No trouble at all, dear. Just head on up, third door on the right."

With a mumbled thank you, I practically sprinted up the stairs, my heart thundering in my chest. This impulsive, poorly-planned visit was already spiraling out of control. Would he see through my flimsy excuse? Most importantly, what was I going to say to him once I was alone with him under the guise of borrowing something from Lana?

The familiar chaos of Lana's room swam before my eyes. Clothes littered the floor, forgotten textbooks sat precariously on the desk,I don’t know why she insisted that no one else but her clean her room when she barley do it

"Are you lost?"

The sound of Theo's voice cut through the mental fog. I spun around, heart hammering against my ribs like a frantic hummingbird. He stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long.

And then, his eyes scanned me from head to toe, a slow, deliberate sweep that sent a jolt of heat straight to my core. Merlin's beard, I wanted to be on my knees (respectfully, of course). That summer dress, the impulsive visit - everything suddenly felt like a terrible, wonderful mistake.

"N-no," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper. "I, uh, just came to… borrow something from Lana." The lie tasted like ashes in my mouth, but I couldn't bring myself to confess my real motive. Not yet, anyway.

Theo pushed himself off the doorframe, taking a slow step closer. The air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the summer heat. "Is that right?" he drawled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. His eye held an unreadable depth that made my breath hitch.

"Yes," I managed, forcing myself to meet his gaze. "She mentioned a book on… Larus migration patterns? I thought I might borrow it for some summer reading."

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Larus migration patterns, huh? Sounds like a fascinating read for a summer day."

His words were laced with a double meaning, and a blush crept up my cheeks. Was he teasing me? Did he suspect my real reason for being here?

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. My carefully constructed plan was falling apart faster than a poorly brewed Amortentia potion. But before I could stammer out another excuse, Theo surprised me with a soft chuckle.

"Well," he drawled, his voice softer now, "since Lana's not here, perhaps I could help you find the book."

The breath caught in my throat. Here I was, caught red-handed (or rather, red-dressed), and yet, Theo's amusement was oddly disarming. His casual demeanor didn't quite match the intensity I'd glimpsed in his eyes moments ago.

"Really?" I squeaked, my voice barely above a whisper. The air crackled between us, charged with a sudden shift in energy.

A slow smirk played on his lips. "Yeah, why not? Did you want someone else to help you, maybe?"

He took a slow step forward, his presence filling the room. I instinctively leaned back, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. A thrill shot through me as his eyes lingered on my face, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

"He's not here, though," he drawled, the amusement leaving his voice. "So bad."

Confusion clouded my mind. "He?" I stammered.

Theo's brows furrowed. "Oh, your older, hot crush? That's what you said, right? So you're here all dressed up and making excuses for nothing." The smile that had been playing on his lips vanished completely.

A wave of panic washed over me. "Are you kidding me?" I blurted out, unable to contain my frustration. Heat crept up my cheeks. "Are you that blind?" just then I realized the depth of my mistake. He thought my crush was Christopher, his own brother!

He was close now, so close I could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His hands braced themselves on either side of my face, caging me in. My breath caught in my throat.

"Trapped?" he murmured, his voice a low growl.

If looks could kill, I would have been dead. Theo's expression was a mix of anger, hurt, and confusion. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his cheek. Thankfully, he didn't pull away.

"It's not Christopher," I whispered, my eyes darted drawn to the tempting curve of his lips.

"Oh yeah?" he challenged, his voice husky.

I couldn't hold back any longer. This was it. With a surge of desperation, I cupped his face with one hand, the other finding its way to the back of his neck and I kissed him.

It was a moment of pure, unadulterated passion. I was kissing Theo it wasn’t a dream , feeling the heat and intensity of the moment wash over me. My lips on his, our breaths mingling, it was my first kiss, but that fact faded into insignificance. He was the only thing that mattered.

Panic briefly gripped me when he didn't immediately respond to the kiss. I pulled away, searching his eyes for any sign of reciprocation, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Fuck," he muttered, pulling me closer, lifting me effortlessly until my legs were wrapped around his waist. His kiss this time was harder, more urgent, our bodies pressed against the wall as he devoured my lips.

It was a hungry kiss, filled with raw desire and longing. I moaned into his mouth, unable to contain the pleasure that surged through me. As his tongue sought entry, I responded eagerly, my hand finding its way to his shoulder, the other tangling in his hair. It felt intoxicatingly good, every touch sending sparks of pleasure coursing through me.

He didn't stop, his kisses growing more intense, more mind-blowing with each passing second. I felt myself teetering on the edge of something powerful, something I had never experienced before.

When he finally pulled away, our lips still touching, he whispered, "We shouldn't do that." I leaned in, wanting more, desperate to recapture the fire he had ignited within me. But this time, he stopped me with a gentle hand on my cheek.

"We shouldn't," he repeated, his words laced with a battle between desire and control.

" You ... don’t want this?" I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.

"Fucking hell," he muttered, before claiming my lips once more in a kiss that left me breathless and wanting more.

He kept kissing me, then his lips dipped lower, trailing a path of fire down my neck. Each touch ignited a new spark within me, a desperate need for more. But just as quickly, he pulled away, his hand clamping over my mouth the moment a moan escaped my lips.

He released me with a ragged breath, fingers brushing my lips – a touch that felt both accidental and deliberate. "Don't fucking let me do that again," he growled, his expression unreadable.

"Theo..." My voice trembled, a choked whisper lost in the deafening silence.

"Don't," he cut me off, his voice laced with a raw emotion that sent shivers down my spine.

I ignored him, the dam of my emotions threatening to burst. "No, Theo, I do like you so much! No, I think I love–"

He slammed his hand down on the nearest surface, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "Stop talking! Stop fucking talking and get out!"

My heart plummeted to my stomach. I stared at him, disbelief etching lines on my face. This couldn't be happening. This wasn't the answer I'd envisioned.

"I said, get out!" he roared, his voice raw with something akin to despair.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Fear, a primal and cold sensation, gripped me. I couldn't stay there, not with that look in his eyes. Tears blurring my vision, I turned and fled. I ran blindly out of the room, my feet pounding against the wooden floorboards. I didn't stop until I was out of the house, gasping for breath on the front porch steps. My legs felt like jelly, my vision obscured by a torrent of tears.

After four days of crying in my room, watching romcoms, and indulging in ice cream, I had practically shut myself off from the outside world. Ignoring calls and messages, I had no intention of leaving my room anytime soon.

But then, my phone started ringing, and the name that flashed on the screen caught my attention – Blaise Zabini. Why was he calling me? I debated whether to answer or not, but curiosity got the better of me.

"Hello?" I answered tentatively.

"Hello, beautiful lady. What are you doing tonight?" Blaise's smooth voice flowed through the phone, surprising me.

"Did you mistake my number for someone else?" I asked, slightly bewildered.

Blaise chuckled. "No, Y/N, I'm calling you. There's a party tonight, and you should come."

I couldn't believe it. Blaise inviting me to a party? It seemed surreal, especially considering how distant I had been lately. "Is this some kind of dare?" I half-jokingly asked, recalling how Lana and I had once begged to be included in their circle last year.

"No, of course not. Lana is away at camp, and I figured you must be bored. Plus, you're old enough now. So, are you coming?" Blaise explained.

I was shocked but managed to say, "Yes."

"Good, I'll pick you up," he said confidently.

"Um, what should I wear?" I asked, feeling a bit out of my depth.

"Something hot for sure," Blaise replied, causing my mouth to drop open. Surely, there must be more to it than just small talk and an unexpected invitation.

I dragged myself out of bed, feeling a bit more alive than I had in days. The prospect of going out, even to a party, was both daunting and oddly exciting. I made my way to the bathroom, deciding that a hot shower would do wonders for my mood.

The water cascaded down my skin, washing away some of the heaviness that had settled over me. I washed my hair, taking extra care to make it look presentable. After all, Blaise had mentioned something about looking hot, and I wanted to at least make an effort.

Once out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and stood in front of the mirror, contemplating my options. My wardrobe seemed to mock me with its array of dresses, each one a reminder of happier times. But tonight was different. I wanted to feel good, even if just for a few hours.

My eyes settled on a vibrant off-shoulder red dress, short enough to be playful yet elegant. It had been a while since I'd worn something so bold, but tonight felt like the perfect occasion. Slipping into the dress, I couldn't help but admire how it hugged my curves in all the right places.

With my hair styled in loose waves cascading down my shoulders, I turned to my makeup. Opting for a subtle smokey eye and a bold red lip to match the dress, I added a touch of highlighter to give my skin a healthy glow.

Just as I finished applying the last stroke of mascara, my phone rang again. It was Blaise, letting me know that he was waiting outside. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my purse and headed out.

A slow smirk spread across Blaise's face as he took in my entire outfit. "Damn, Y/N," he said, his voice dropping a cool octave. "You look goodness. Tonight, you're not just breaking hearts, you're shattering them."

"Thanks," I managed, trying to project an air of confidence I wasn't entirely sure I possessed.

The drive to the bar was a blur of conversation and upbeat music. Blaise gave me a heads-up that this was a different scene than the usual hangouts Lana and I frequented. No sticky floors or questionable punch here. This place oozed sophistication with a healthy dose of trendy vibes.

The closer we got, the bigger the butterflies became. "Just a heads-up," Blaise said casually, "Theo's gonna be there."

My eyes widened like headlights caught on high beams. "Why are you telling me this?" I blurted, my voice shaky.

Blaise held up his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, little firecracker. Easy now. Listen, I know what happened," he said, his tone gentle but firm.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine in the rearview mirror. "You've got two choices tonight," he continued, his voice low and serious. "Option one: Go in there, drown your sorrows in overpriced cocktails, and cry yourself to sleep like you have been for the past week. Option two: You walk in that door, head held high, and have the best damn night of your life. Show him what a colossal mistake he made. But more importantly, have fun. Forget Theo for the night. You deserve it."

My initial suspicion flared. How did Blaise know about Theo? Did Theo tell everyone, maybe even paint some twisted narrative of what happened? The worst-case scenario played in my head: everyone knowing I'd forced myself on him. I pushed those thoughts down, refusing to let them take root.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of suspicion.

Blaise raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. "Oh, the nerve! Here I am, trying to be the ever-so-charming host, and you accuse me of… niceness?" He placed a hand dramatically over his chest. "Honestly, Y/N, I'm deeply wounded."

I couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and genuine. It felt good, a welcome change from the constant ache in my chest. As we pulled into the bar's crowded parking lot, I spotted a familiar face – the Gryffindor girl from school, the one with a permanent case of RBF.

Suddenly, the prospect of a night out filled with new faces and zero Theo drama seemed a whole lot more appealing.

"Alright," I announced, a determined glint in my eyes. "Going inside and having fun sounds way better."

Blaise's smirk widened. "Now you're talking," he said, finally pulling the car to a stop. "Let's do this."

We pushed through the heavy bar doors, the sudden wave of loud music and flashing lights hitting me like a physical blow. My eyes squinted against the assault, struggling to adjust to the dim, pulsing atmosphere. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, spilled alcohol, and something vaguely floral that I couldn't quite identify.

Then I saw it.

Bodies. Everywhere bodies. Couples intertwined on couches, limbs tangled in a way that left little to the imagination. People grinding against each other on the dance floor, clothes barely clinging to their sweaty forms. My mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Are you kidding me, Blaise?" I shrieked, my voice barely audible over the pounding music. "Did you invite me to an orgy ?"

Blaise chuckled, his earlier cool persona replaced by something a little more… suggestive. "Not quite, sweetheart," he drawled. "But if you're interested, I know a guy…"

Blaise winked, then turned his attention to a group of women across the room. My stomach churned. Had he brought me here just to ditch me?

"Where are you going?" I demanded, grabbing his arm before he could slink away.

He looked back at me, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You wouldn't want to know, sweetheart. Trust me." Before I could argue, he was weaving his way through the crowd, leaving me stranded in a sea of strangers.

Panic clawed at my throat. I was completely out of my element, suffocated by the throbbing music and the overt displays of affection. Trying to navigate the throng of people felt like trying to walk through a mosh pit. Elbows jabbed, drinks sloshed, and muttered curses collided with the music. Every step forward felt like a battle.

Just when I was on the verge of tears, a familiar voice cut through the din.

"Y/N? Is that you?"

I snapped my head towards the source of the sound, relief washing over me like a tidal wave. There, standing a few feet away, was Cedric Diggory, a friendly face from Hogwarts. He looked as surprised to see me as I was to see him.

"Oh, thank God!" I exclaimed, practically throwing myself at him. He caught me with a smile, a steady presence in the swirling chaos.

"What are you doing here?" I blurted out, clinging to him like a lifeline. "I came with Blaise, but… well, he kinda ditched me."

Cedric's smile faltered slightly, but he recovered quickly. "Don't worry about him," he said reassuringly. "I can take you home if you want."

The offer was tempting, a safe haven from the overwhelming sensory overload. But then my gaze fell across the crowded room, landing on Theo. He was… well, making out with someone. Not just anyone, but two someones. His hands were everywhere, his lips moving feverishly between two very enthusiastic girls.

The sight of him sent a fresh wave of anger and hurt coursing through me. I wanted to scream, to cry, to set the whole place on fire. But instead, I did something completely unexpected.

"Actually," I said, my voice surprisingly steady, "Do you want to dance?"

A slow smile spread across my face as Cedric offered his hand. Relief momentarily eclipsed the anger simmering beneath the surface. He led me onto the dance floor, his touch light and hesitant on my waist. Compared to Theo's rough possessiveness, it felt… foreign.

"Theodora Nott," I muttered under my breath, the name a bitter curse on my tongue. Every fiber of my being ached to tear my gaze away from Theo.

Cedric's breath tickled my ear as he spoke, but my mind was elsewhere. Then, our eyes met. Theo's. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, like he'd seen a ghost.

Theo seemed momentarily speechless, his jaw clenched tight. Then, in a move that surprised even me, he shoved the two girls aside, their confused faces momentarily forgotten. He barged his way through the crowd, a determined scowl on his face.

"Diggory," he spat, his voice laced with venom.

"Nott," Cedric replied, a flicker of confusion crossing his features.

"Think I can take this from here?" Theo said, his gaze never leaving mine. "Thanks for keeping Y/N company."

Cedric glanced between us, a hesitant frown creasing his brow. Knowing I needed to act fast, I plastered a sickly sweet smile on my face.

"It's alright, Cedric," I chirped, my voice dripping with fake sincerity. "Theo's here now, and you know, practically like a brother to me."

Theo's jaw clenched tight, his anger barely contained. It fueled a fire within me, a perverse satisfaction at seeing him squirm. Cedric, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, simply nodded and melted back into the crowd.

As soon as he was out of sight, I reached out and lightly touched Theo's arm. "Hello, brother," I purred, the word laced with mockery. "Enjoying yourself?"

He swatted my hand away, his voice tight with irritation. "What the hell do you think you're doing here?"

"Dancing, drinking, you know ," I replied, my voice light and carefree. "Hopefully getting some… you know, without having to share." I couldn't resist adding a pointed jab at his earlier display of affection.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "That's not the right answer, Y/N."

"Oh, so now you're the authority on what's right and wrong?" I scoffed. "Just get lost and let me enjoy my night."

"Not happening," he growled, stepping closer. For a fleeting moment, I swear his eyes flickered to my lips, sending a tremor of something unexpected through me.

"Not happening," he countered, his eyes flickering towards my lips for a fleeting moment.

A shiver ran down my spine, but I refused to let it show. "So you get to have fun, but I can't? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you were having a blast with your little… (here I paused, searching for the perfect comedic insult) …buffet." I forced a smile, pushing myself away from him in a playful, yet firm, manner.

He didn't get a chance to retort before a gasp escaped my lips. A clumsy dancer, fueled by who-knows-what concoction, careened into me, spilling the entirety of his drink down my dress. The scarlet fabric clung to my body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

Theo let out a frustrated curse under his breath. "Damn it, Y/N, and your damn stubborn red dresses ," he muttered, before grabbing my arm and pulling me away from the crowd. His gaze darted around frantically, before settling on a nearby staircase.

The world spun a little faster as Theo pulled me through the crowd, his grip tight on my arm. We navigated through bodies and flashing lights, finally ending up near a darkened stairway leading upwards. He pushed open a door, revealing a large, beautifully furnished room – a stark contrast to the party raging outside.

"Stay here," he instructed, his voice low and urgent.

I rolled my eyes, annoyed at his bossiness but strangely comforted by his protectiveness.My mind was still reeling from the sudden alcohol shower, my thoughts fuzzy and disconnected.

Theo's presence alone was overwhelming. All the anger, hurt, and confusion I'd been feeling seemed to coalesce into a potent cocktail of emotions. My mind, however, wasn't processing things clearly. The red dress clinging to my body, the sting of Theo's earlier words, the memory of seeing him with those girls – it all swirled together in a chaotic mess.

Ignoring the instruction to stay put, I crossed the room and locked the door with a satisfying click. Grasping the hem of the ruined dress, I ripped it upwards in one swift motion. There, standing before a giant mirror, was me in all my red lace glory – bra and panties matching the ruined dress.

Theo stepped in, a black t-shirt clutched in his hand. His gaze locked with mine, a slow burn spreading across his face. He scanned me from head to toe, his eyes lingering on the shocking red lace bra and matching panties that were now my only attire.

For a moment, the room seemed to shrink, the music fading into a distant hum. The air crackled with a tension that sent a jolt of electricity through me.

"You're drunk, aren't you?" he finally managed, his voice rough with a mix of concern and something else – something deeper.

The question snapped me out of my haze. A defiant chuckle escaped my lips. "Not a single Shot," I replied, my voice surprisingly steady as I walked towards him.

The t-shirt fluttered to the floor, forgotten. His eyes were fixed on me, his face a mask of conflicting emotions. I stopped just inches from him, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.

"What are you doing?" he whispered, his face just inches from mine. The heat of his body radiated against mine, intensifying the buzz in my head.

"We don't have to be in love," I slurred, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs. A part of me knew this was insane, But another part just craved his attention, his touch.

All I craved was his attention, his touch.

"I just wanna be… one of your girls tonight," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. A shiver ran down my spine as the reality of my words hit me. Was I really saying this? But then I remembered Theo with those other girls, the way they would whisper about him at school, the way they boasted about their "experiences" with him.

Suddenly, a strange sense of defiance mixed with a simmering desire fueled my next words. "I want what you give them," I confessed, my eyes locked on his. "The kind of thing they brag about to their friends for years."

He reached out, a single finger brushing against my cheek. My breath hitched at the contact.

"Give me tough love don’t hold back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Push me, choke me. Show me what it's like to be… yours even if it’s just for a night ." My voice dropped even lower. "Anything," I whispered, "just don't pretend you don't want me."

My words hung heavy in the air, the audacity of them making my cheeks burn. But before I could even think about backtracking, Theo surged forward, scooping me up into his arms. A gasp escaped my lips as he pulled me close, the familiar scent of his cologne washing over me.

He lifted me, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pulled me close. My hands instinctively found purchase on his broad shoulders, the heat radiating through his shirt setting my skin alight.

"That's wrong," he rasped, his lips brushing dangerously close to mine.

"It's not," I insisted, the defiance laced with a desperate plea.

He didn't answer. Instead, he kissed me. It was a hard kiss, desperate and hungry, as if he was trying to erase everything that had come between us. My body melted against his, all thoughts fleeing my mind except for the fierce press of his lips against mine.

He carried me across the room, depositing me onto a large table. pulled away after what felt like an eternity, his eyes blazing with an intensity that sent a tremor through me. He pushed a stray strand of hair from my face, his eyes searching mine. "I'd hold onto something, if I were you." he murmured, his voice thick with possessiveness that both terrified and excited me.

My fingers brushed against his face, his warm breath ghosting over my lips as he leaned down.

His hand moved down my body, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers erupting across my skin. His fingers grazed my thighs, a light touch that somehow managed to ignite a fire within me. My breath hitched, a moan escaping my lips as desire battled with the remnants of reason.

His lips brushed against my ear, his voice a husky whisper against my sensitive skin. "Choose a word," he murmured, his breath sending shivers down my spine.

I nodded numbly, unsure if I would even be able to speak if I needed to.

"Red," I managed to whisper, my voice laced with desire as his lips trailed along my neck, eliciting a soft moan from deep within me.

"Fucking red again," he muttered, his lips pressing against my skin with a hunger that ignited a fire within me. I arched my neck, offering him more access, more of me.

"You use this if it gets too much, understood?" he said, his voice commanding. I nodded eagerly.

He continued to kiss my jaw and neck with an intensity that left me breathless. My hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer. When he bit down on a sensitive spot on my neck, I couldn't contain a scream of pleasure.

His hand cupped my core through my panties, and I instinctively gripped his shoulder, my body responding to his touch. I had never experienced anything like this before, but I couldn't admit that to him.

"Have you done anything like this before?" he asked, his breath hot against my earlobe. I moaned softly as I lied, nodding in response.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice barely audible over the rush of sensations.

He parted my legs forcefully and held my jaw in his hand, locking eyes with mine. "You did?" he questioned, a hint of possessiveness in his tone.

I nodded again, unable to speak as desire coursed through me.

"He's dead, whoever he is," he declared, sending a shiver down my spine. His fingers slipped inside my panties, and I gasped at the sudden intimacy, my body responding eagerly to his touch.

"Theo," I managed to gasp out, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, baby?" he responds, his voice deep and husky. The way he says "baby" sends shivers down my spine. It feels too good, too right, felt like a sweet caress to my soul.

"You can do whatever you want to me," i whispered, my fingers tracing his jawline. "Anything."

He responds by parting my lips with his finger leaning down to take my lower lips into his kiss. It's so soft, so gentle, that I feel like I've been transported to heaven. His tongue enters my mouth at the same time he touches my clit, and I moan.

He rubs my clit in gentle circles, and I hold onto his shoulder, digging my nails into his skin. He pulls away from the kiss, my lips are still on his, and I moan into his mouth. His tongue continues to explore mine as his fingers work their magic.

"Oh Merlin," I cry out, and he smiles against my cheek.

"Not Merlin, baby, but me," he whispered against my cheek, his touch sending me spiraling further into ecstasy. He added a finger inside me, and I cried out, my back arching with pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so tight. You sure you've done this before?" he questioned, a hint of disbelief in his voice. I've done this before, in my dreams, with him. I bite my lip to keep from moaning too loudly, and he looks displeased with that.

"Keep making those sounds, I love the sound of your voice," he says, and I do it again. He stops kissing me” you did that again and i stop, understood? “ I nodded immediately.

He’s not done yet. He pushed my bra strap down, placing kisses along the exposed skin.

His fingers start to move faster, as he kissed me, swallowing all my moans. He adds another finger, and I scream, my back arching again.

I bite my lips without even noticing and he slowed his movements I hold onto his hand fast, afraid he'll stop.

"Please don't stop, I'll be good, I promise," I beg, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Fuck, say it again," his gaze intense with desire.

"I'll be good, Theo," I repeated, my voice a desperate plea.

He moves his fingers faster in response, hitting a spot inside me that makes me see stars. He keeps hitting it, over and over again, while circling my clit.

"I'm going to--" I try to say, but I can't finish my sentence. Pleasure consumes me, and I scream his name. He plays with my hair, pushing my tears and hair away from my face.

"I know, sweet girl," he murmured, his words pushing me over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm."So sweet, so good."

He watched me with intense desire as I came, his fingers never ceasing their movements. "And so fucking hot," he added as he looked at me while experiencing his own release.

“you look so pretty when you’re cumming for me,” he murmured, placing soft kisses on my neck

I breathed heavily as he pulled his hands from me, bringing his fingers to his mouth and savoring my cum. "You taste so sweet, baby," he murmured, his gaze locked on mine.

He cupped my face, placing soft kisses on my lips, again and again. "So sweet, so angelic,"

With a gentle touch, he lifted me from the table, carrying me softly and placing me on the bed. His face was close to mine, his nose brushing against mine, and he kissed me deeply. I moaned as he opened my bra clips, leaning down to place a soft kiss on my jawline, then my collarbone.

He traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body until he reached my breasts. I closed my eyes as he put a soft kiss on them, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Eyes on me, baby. Don't shut them," he commanded, and I nodded, my breath heavy. I looked at him, my love for him overwhelming.

With each lick and kiss, I moaned louder, the pleasure building with every touch, and I arched my back, my fingers gripping the sheets.

With a final lick, he traced his way down, kissing every inch of my body. He kissed my stomach and looked up at me, his gaze intense.

He parted my legs, the sight of him between them is my idea of heaven. I nodded, and he pulled my panties down.

As he pulled my panties down, I felt a rush of shyness,"You will keep them open," he said, and I nodded again , my breath hitching.

"Good girl," he praised, his lips trailing kisses along my thighs. I couldn't resist running my fingers through his soft hair, pushing it from his face.

"You want rough love, you say?" he stated, using my own words against me.

"Yes," I moaned, my mouth gasping as I felt his mouth on my wet pussy.

"And you keep listening to what those girls say?" he asked.

"Yes, and it hurts," I managed to say.

"So I have to make up for it then, baby, don't you think?" he asked,

He didn't waste time. His tongue explored my folds, and it felt strange but in a good way. He licked and sucked, and I felt like I might explode.

He kept doing it, for what felt like an eternity. He kept my legs open, and my back ached. I cried heavily, it was the best thing I had ever felt. I could feel my body already over the edge.

"Don't cum," he said, and I shook my head. He continued eating me out, so much. I could feel his fingers inside me, and I screamed again.

"Please," I begged, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he was giving me.

"You cum, and it's over," he warned, his finger entering me gently.

I held onto his shoulder tightly, my body teetering on the edge. "Say the word, and I'll stop," he offered.

But I couldn't bring myself to say it. "No," I managed to whisper, my voice filled with need and desire.

His tongue flicked my clit, and I felt my orgasm building. I screamed his name, and he kept going, pushing me further and further over the edge. I screamed again, and again, and again. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came hard, my body shaking with the force of it.

He looked up at me, his lips glistening with my juices.

I was still trying to catch my breath from what just happened as Theo's words registered in my mind. "You are a virgin," he said, and I shook my head fast, trying to dispel the shock.

"No, no, I'm not. The boys I've been with before weren't experienced," I managed to say, feeling a rush of embarrassment at my slip of words. Why did I say "boys"?

Theo's gaze held fire as he processed my words. "Boys?" he repeated, his voice tinged with something I couldn't quite decipher.

I immediately felt the need to defend myself. "You don't think I'm attractive enough to be with more than one boy in my life?" I asked, a hint of defiance in my tone.

"Quite the opposite," he assured me, but his expression remained serious. "I want to know who dared and did that," he added, his eyes searching mine.

I bit my lip nervously, realizing the implications of what I had unintentionally revealed. Boys were afraid to pursue Lana because of Theo's reputation, but the way he reacted made me wonder if he wasn't threatening the boys for just getting close to lana .

"You can't just control who I can be with, Theo," I said, surprised at my own boldness.

"I think I can," he asserted firmly.

I took a breath, trying to calm the tension that crackled between us. "I won't mind," I said softly, my voice pleading. "I would do anything to please you. I would do anything you ask me to."

"Stop talking like that, y/n," he ordered, his tone strained.

"Okay," I acquiesced, sensing that I had crossed a line.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, clearly struggling with his own emotions.

I reached out and touched his hand that was on my face, trying to ease the tension. I smiled while kissing his hand, then surprised both of us by putting one of his fingers inside my mouth and sucking on it gently.

"You are going to be the death of me," he muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

"I need you, Theo, all of you, even just for the night, please," I pleaded, desperate for him to understand.

"Don't cry, unless it's from the pleasure I give you," he said, brushing away my tears gently.

I propped myself up on my elbow to get closer to him, craving his touch and his reassurance. He kissed me again, and in that moment, I felt like I could live in this bliss forever.

He reached for a condom, and I tried not to show my nerves as he prepared himself. His size was daunting, and I couldn't help but wonder how it would fit inside me. My head hit the pillow again as he spread my legs, his hardness teasing my entrance.

He entered me slowly, and I cried out as the pain shot through me, tears streaming down my face. "You are a fucking virgin," he exclaimed, his own frustration evident.

"It's not a fucking game, y/n," he continued, his tone softer but still edged with tension.

"I'm sorry, please do something," I pleaded, feeling overwhelmed.

He wiped my tears away, his features softening. "Fuck, baby, don't cry. It will get better, I promise. Just relax," he reassured me, his voice soothing.

"Breathe, it's just me," he added, placing kisses on my forehead and then my cheek.

"I think... I think you can move now, please," I managed to say, trying to regain my composure.

He held my face in his hand while the other supported him as he moved slowly, allowing me to adjust to him. I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure and the connection between us.

"You want fast, I can take it," I said, unsure if I was ready but wanting to prove myself to him.

"It's not a competition, y/n. You don't have to prove anything, baby,"

"The girls you've been with, they must have..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"They didn't matter. You do," he said, surprising both of us with his confession.

He settled into a rhythm that felt perfect, and I closed my eyes, reveling in the sensations. His thrusts ranged from slow and tender to fast and intense, driving me wild with pleasure.

"Talk to me," he urged, and I struggled to form coherent sentences amidst the pleasure.

"It feels... good," I managed to say, my words coming out in fragmented breaths.

"Yeah?" he questioned, and I nodded, unable to articulate just how amazing it felt.

He increased his pace, and I arched my back, meeting his movements eagerly. "What about this?" he asked, his touch sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Do it again," I begged, wanting more of him, more of this intense pleasure.

He obliged, and the pleasure intensified, pushing me closer to the edge of ecstasy. I moaned and cried out his name, lost in the sensations that only he could evoke.

He thrust a few more times, then finally reached his own peak, his body collapsing slightly against mine as we both caught our breaths.

After a moment, he pulled out and disposed of the condom, then lay beside me.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. I was afraid to talk afraid to ruin what we just had, My hand hovered in the air, reaching for his face, but Theo stopped me, his grip surprisingly tight on my wrist.

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of my racing thoughts. Please, no. Not the cold shoulder again.

" The- Theo," I whispered, my voice trembling, but he pushed my hand away before I could say more. His sudden change left me feeling lost and vulnerable, like I had done something terribly wrong.

"You… sore?" he finally spoke, his voice strained.

I blinked, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. The Theo who had been making love to me just minutes ago seemed to have vanished. This was the cold, distant Theo I knew all too well.

"A little," I managed to whisper, my voice cracking.

"Then get dressed," he said curtly. "I'm taking you home. Your big night is over." his words cutting through me like knives. I tried to speak, to explain, but he silenced me with a stern command. "Not a word, y/n. Not a fucking word."

He got out of bed and started putting on his clothes, tossing a t-shirt and his jacket in my direction. As he grabbed my phone and things, I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. It was as if everything we had shared meant nothing to him.

As shaky legs carried me to my feet, I pulled on the clothes, tears blurring my vision. A choked sob escaped my lips, and another, and another.

"Congratulations, Y/N," I whispered to myself, my voice raw with emotion. "You're officially one of his girls."

"Congratulations, y/n. You’re officially one of the girls," he remarked, his words cutting deep into my already wounded heart.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Part2

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #theodorenottsmut #theodore nott #fluff imagines #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott smut #theo nott

[sebastianswallows]

The Little Death — 1. Captive of your desires

— PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Bene Gesserit!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: A Bene Gesserit gets left behind in the Arrakeen palace. When Feyd becomes the Planetary Governor, he finds her there in hiding. The Harkonnens don't traditionally keep them as truthsayers or concubines like other Houses do, but Feyd might have a use for her. After all, he's never had a Bene Gesserit of his own before.

— WARNINGS: choking and death threats

— WORDCOUNT: 2.2k

— A/N: I couldn't resist. I had to write more for him. Reader, I love him. This fic might go a little wild, because I want to play into this naughty boy's love for pain. Expect some subby Feyd, some inkpies, generally a messed up dynamic with an equally messed up reader. Hope you enjoy, my lovelies! 🖤

Seek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty. — Bene Gesserit Coda

House Harkonnen fell upon Arrakis like a hammer — with a deafening crash and destructive reverberation. After the palace was ransacked and the most important figures murdered, their bodies piled high and set alight, the stragglers were hunted through the streets and homes of Arrakeen. There was a week of slaughter. By the end, nothing moved. All spice production had ceased. Then the violence left the city and spread out into the desert, and the whole hemisphere of the planet was captured.

Arrakeen sat near the northern pole, on thick bedrock surrounded by natural fortifications that protected it from worm attacks. It was a difficult place to escape from. Those who remained were understood to be loyal to the Harkonnens, or at least indifferent to who held the power. The Atreides rule had been brief enough to not have garnered that many supporters. Only the rumour of their goodness and grace had been planted, and the Harkonnens returned before those could take root.

There can be said to have been a second Harkonnen takeover once Feyd-Rautha arrived. The Baron’s youngest nephew. Word was spread — or rather, been carefully planted — that he was the kinder, gentler of the Harkonnen brothers. The people greeted him like a saviour. Inside the palace, the atmosphere was more subdued.

It was a stark contrast to the transition from when Rabban came to power. No mass killings, no ransacking of rooms, just an orderly takeover through which the cold and calculating presence of Feyd-Rautha flowed. Furniture was rearranged. Staff was brought in from Giedi Prime. Brand new equipment arrived, especially for the spice harvesters.

The message was clear. The new planetary governor was thorough and exacting. Most of those in the palace breathed a sigh of relief, but there was at least one breath that stuttered.

She was there at his arrival, watching from a distance together with the throng of Arrakeen locals, Fremen and others, who gathered to see the procession. It was early in the morning, just before sunrise. He walked differently than other Harkonnen she’d seen. Rabban stomped through like a bull. The servants grovelled. The Baron was so fat he had to be suspended in the air. But this one, this one strolled through with confidence. Sleek and slender, he was beautiful in an inhuman way. That much she could make out from a distance.

He struck out at Fremen sietches on his very first day, using artillery fire and on-the-ground troops. An old way of doing things, but effective. It painted the new governor as precise, determined, and strangely honourable, and then word spread around the palace that he’d struck his own brother to the ground and made him kiss his feet. The word ‘humiliation’ was uttered. The news sewed a sliver of hope in the hearts of the longsuffering palace staff.

She had evaded close contact with the Harkonnens until then. It only made sense, as she was in hiding, slipping through the cracks of their negligence until she could procure safe passage off-planet, but that was getting more difficult by the day. What they lacked in caution, they made up for in paranoia, and all comings and goings were kept behind esoteric layers of bureaucracy. She was in the process of making contact with a smuggler when Feyd-Rautha gained governorship of the planet, and all her hopes were dashed.

It was the evening of his second day on the planet when she was called. The servant that summoned her looked at her like she was an apparition — which, in a way, she was. She had managed to remain undetected, keeping herself busy, staying out of sight, acting like she was meant to be there. She’d become part of the scenery and could dispel suspicion if anyone got too close. Her Bene Gesserit training was good for that if nothing else. But there was no escaping this. Somebody had finally found her and knew exactly where she was.

She followed the servant — a heavily armed pasty-white figure, crooked and willowy — to the chamber door of what she knew to be the largest office of the governor. He opened it for her, pushed her in, and locked the door behind her.

Like a tiny sun, a glowglobe floated through the room, its light falling on the smooth black surfaces of the furniture and the pale stone of the walls. She folded her hands before her, hidden by the long sleeves of her dress, and followed what the light revealed. The room was large and windowless, stripped bare of any useless item. The table was empty, the chairs were in their place, and upon the plinths set in the corners, no potted plants or works of art stood. Only one thing moved there, together with the light. Feyd-Rautha paced slowly, quietly, on the other side of the room.

“My lord na-Baron,” she said in a smooth and submissive voice. Her knees bent in a slight curtsy — respectful, but not too much. “You summoned me.”

She wore a garb that didn’t belong to any particular function. The long black dress would have fit just as well in the kitchens as in the cleaning staff, and the head covering was suited for the Arrakis weather, worn by any female. All of those with hair, anyway. The light material bent around her, giving her a slightly oval shape, soft and harmless. But when she looked up and caught the na-Baron’s gaze, he would have seen a sharper look there than that of any servant.

His eyes were cunning too. They looked upon her knowingly and with amusement, a strange manner for a Harkonnen.

“Who are you?” he asked with a playful squint.

His voice scratched across her skin like kitten claws. He didn’t sound the way he looked, and she admitted it surprised her. His tone, nevertheless, was gentle. Deceitfully kind. He could kill me in an instant, she thought, and take pleasure from it.

“My lord, I —”

“You were not on Rabban’s stafflist. I know that, because he didn’t have one. And you’re not on mine, because I didn’t ask for you. We have as of today an account of all the palace workers, but the list comes up with one extra room unaccounted for.”

Nights in Arrakeen were cold, but her skin just turned colder. What rotten luck, to be in the palace right when they decided to actually investigate who worked there and did what. It’s my own fault, she said to herself. I relied on their incompetence for far too long. Now I pay the price. So be it.

“I have been a servant in this palace for many years, my lord na-Baron,” she said with a slow bow of her head. “And I wish to serve you as well.”

“Is that so?” he purred, coming closer. His steps were lazy, but the pace was measured. He had more control over his body than his playful swagger let on. “Many years, you say? You worked for the Atreides, then?”

“And for Count Fenring before them.”

He stopped. She looked up at him from underneath her lashes and smiled in quiet satisfaction. Lady Fenring was a skilled Bene Gesserit sister and had lived in Arrakeen with her husband for many years before the Atreides decided on it for their capital. She was the most logical choice as a secret envoy to the Harkonnen heir. And if Feyd-Rautha met her, it could only mean one thing.

Uroshnor, she thought. He’s likely been imprinted with the usual prana-bindu phrase. It would stun him, if only for a moment. But long enough… It didn’t provide her a means of escape, but it gave her hope. It gave her room for manoeuvre.

“I am not a spy,” she said, straightening her back.

“Of course, a spy would say that.”

“You may test me in any way you wish,” she said with a playful chuckle.

Feyd’s eyes darkened at her proposition, a smile bending his full lips as he stepped closer. Oh, he could think of many ways to test her…

“What are you, then?” he asked, his voice scratching low and close as he stopped close enough to touch.

She could see now that his eyes were a clear blue. Not the sort of blue brought on by long-term spice exposure, that dark electric shade, but blue like water, like the sky, like a shard of ice. His jawline was firm — that of a biter. But his lips were pillow-soft and curled around the edges in a smile that wouldn’t go away. Lips made for laughing, made for kissing, made for love. He’s such a delicate boy. The thought ran through her mind before she realised.

“I served the Lady Fenring as a housekeeper,” she said.

“Lies.”

“My lord?”

“You’re one of them, aren’t you? A damn witch.”

She remained completely still, her eyes locked on his. He was trying to dominate her with a hard incessant glare, but she held his gaze merely for the pleasure of it. What a comforting colour they were on such a harsh planet… No matter the malice behind them.

“You’re a Bene Gesserit. I’ve met your kind before,” he continued, looking down her body in a cruel, suggestive way. “You hold yourselves the way no other women do.”

“Perpans not like Harkonnen women.”

He chuckled, the sound scraping up his slender neck. “All women in the known universe are the same, given the right circumstances.”

“But not the Bene Gesserit.”

“Yes, not you,” he sighed, head tilting as if his mind was trying to escape a painful memory.

His eyes stayed upon her figure, trailing down the contours of her dress. Then he reached out a hand and touched it, his fingers tracing a silky pleat so lightly that it barely moved. She felt it still, the slight disturbance his caresses caused, but willed her body to stay motionless. There was no trace of aggression in him now.

“Why are you still here?” he asked.

“You have not dismissed me, my lord na-Baron.”

He chuckled faintly. “I mean on Arrakis.”

“I wish to remain in the palace.”

“Why?”

“The deserts are harsh.”

“Many prefer that to serving a Harkonnen.”

“One master is as good as another.”

“I’m sure it must’ve felt like that to you,” he said, looking her in the eye again. His fingers left her dress and went to rest upon the hilt of a dagger at his belt. “So I take it you were one of Lady Fenring’s servants. A… fellow sister, would you call it?”

“I was part of her staff, yes.”

“And you didn’t leave with her and the Count when the Atreides came?”

“I remained behind to assist with training their staff,” she said with a bow of her head. Even now she retained a certain respect for that dead House.

“And Lady Fenring,” he hissed, the name dripping from his mouth like poison, “she never wanted to retrieve you?”

“I believe they think me dead.”

“Yes, she is not the sentimental sort,” he chuckled, and his cold gaze caught hers.

A dangerous thought was taking root behind those eyes, she could see it germinating. She waited, reading his body, scanning the minute changes in his expression, and tried to determine what went on behind that pallid mask.

There was envy there, and regret, and longing. The Harkonnens never kept Bene Gesserit truthsayers, nor were there any among the Baron’s concubines — all of them were young boys anyway. They were unique among the Great Houses in that way, and although she knew that Feyd’s mother had been a Bene Gesserit herself, he probably didn’t know what it was like to be raised by one. Why else would he be looking at her now as if he wanted to peel her clothes away, and then her skin, and reach toward her heart and grab it?

“How can I help my na-Baron?” she asked, her voice a whisper, her gaze a caress.

“By not getting above yourself,” he rasped with the air of slapping her offer away.

Her heart stuttered in her chest and she bowed her head to hide her terror. Did I read him wrongly? she thought to herself. I must not fear.

“House Harkonnen has no use for witches,” said Feyd.

She felt his strong hand grip her shoulder, slipping past the veil to curl around her neck. He stayed there, holding her in a half-choke just firm enough to feel her heartbeat in the palm of his hand.

“I ought to kill you,” he said sweetly, “and feed you to my darlings.”

Her lips parted, swelling slightly, and she felt her face go pale. The little death takes on a whole new meaning, she thought with grim amusement.

“But I do want to know one thing…”

“Yes, my na-Baron?” she asked in a shaky voice.

He breathed in sharply at the sound of it. He liked it. When she looked up into his eyes again, the grip around her throat felt not so much murderous anymore as it did greedy, possessive.

“I want to know… Do you have one of those pain boxes too?”

#Feyd #Feyd Rautha Harkonnen #Feyd Rautha #Dune #Dune part 2 #Dune fanfiction #Dune imagine #Feyd Rautha x reader #Feyd x reader #Feyd Rautha fanfic #Feyd Rautha imagine #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;littledeath

[trashmouth-richie]

this comes from @serasvictoria with this ask the prompt words were: pillow, caught, crush

18+ no minors, angst leading to smut, vulgar, eddie talks about his dick and steve’s 😌

2.1k // eddie x fem reader

your ex hears you’ve moved on; is he ready to let you go?

send me a prompt!

“Don’t be a dumbass.” 

Ringed hands were folded together, glistening from the makeshift dramatic lighting in Gareth’s basement. 

In the summer, Hellfire moved locations from one member's place to another, rotating every Friday to a different place. A new aroma to tickle one’s nostrils upon entering whichever home was the designated spot for the evening, to host Hawkins very own hell bound teens. 

Some homes were kept nicer than others, while Eddie’s trailer smelled like stale cigarettes and bong water, the Sinclair’s living room was pristine with updated furniture, smelling of warm vanilla and the smell of dinner still lingering in the air. 

Gareth takes another gulp of Mountain Dew, wiping the lime colored beverage from his lips. Belching on the spot. 

“Why would I lie about that?” 

Eddie shifts in the folding chair leaning forward— the chain from his waist clinking on the metal, “whatever man, don’t fuck with me.” 

Gareth grins, hands up in surrender, “listen dude, I’m just telling you what we saw,  no need to shoot the messenger.”

What Gareth and Jeff had seen weighed heavy on their minds. They had even contemplated on keeping it secret. The two couldn’t decide if Eddie should know or if it would hurt him— in the end Gareth opened his big mouth and blurted it out, in the most repugnant way imaginable. 

The painted tin container used to hold dice was crushed under the weight of Eddie’s fist as he hammered it onto the table. 

Jeff shook his head, sucking in a breath between his braced teeth, looking away from the soon to be manic Munson. 

Eddie’s temper ran hot when it came to one thing—and one thing only, you. 

Raking his fingers through his scalp, he kicks the back of his chair upon standing, ragged breaths in and out, eyes to the ceiling. You still had a hold on him, it had been months—and the only one who seemed to not be able to move on was him. 

He chuckled, pinching the inner corner of his eyes and shaking his head, “one of you take over as DM, I gotta go.” 

Bounding up the stairs before he could hear any bitching from his two longest standing friends, the carpeted steps squished under his quickened boot steps. Stealing a cookie from an iridescent colored decorative plate on the kitchen counter, Eddie stomped out the front door and to the paved driveway, starting his van with a flick of his wrist, pedal to the floor as he reversed onto the street, running over flower beds in his wake.

—

The daffodil warmth of the sun was high in the sky, a small stitch of wind blew the blades of grass gently, feathering the soft pages of your book every so often. 

It was a perfect summer day as you laid out on your driveway, ass parked in a tiny kiddie pool from your youth, blue in color, the flimsy plastic circle was filled with cool water straight from the hose. 

A few shots of spiced whiskey danced on your tongue and tangoed with the carbonated bubbles of the mixed in Coke, fizzing with each slurp from your straw, you don’t have a care in the world. 

Admiring your freshly painted nails in the pastel bubble gum shade he had picked out— it was a stark contrast to the ruby reds you had been accustomed to— but those days were long gone, and things were finally starting to look up for you. 

It had been four months since Eddie broke things off, claiming he needed ‘space to find himself’ and although you spent a majority of that time wallowing in ice cream containers and mopping up tears when you saw a brown set of curls, or heard the jingle of a chain wallet— you moved on. 

He wasn’t from Hawkins. Didn’t know of Eddie at all, and you preferred to keep it that way. You were never ashamed of the boy you loved for so many years, the only embarrassment you felt was the night he ended things like someone would end a call after placing an order for pizza. 

Like it meant nothing to him, like you meant nothing to him. But that was then, and you were happier now.

So when you looked up to see Gareth’s wide eyes staring in shock was not at all how you imagined your date would go. You had been caught red handed by his best friends, and you knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. 

Toes twirling in the water you bobbed your head along to the music playing on the portable radio, sunglasses perched on your nose— not a single care in the world. 

Until the music turned to something more familiar.. the screech of guitars and aggressive tempos, you could practically feel the warmth leave your skin as the dark cloud of Eddie’s van cast its shadow on your skin, parked in your driveway like he belonged here. 

By the way he tore around the corner and through the stop sign— you knew he was pissed. The clunk of his rings scraped against the paint as he reached through the window to open the door—still broken. 

“I don’t smoke anymore Munson, but if you’re offering freeb—”

“Who is he?” he interjected, in no mood for your joking tone. 

Sucking your drink until the ice clinks together at the bottom—whiskey making you ballsier than you ever had been—you finally answer, “Who is who?” 

He crosses his arms, trying to stay calm, although all he wanted to do was scream, “the guy, cmon princess, don't play dumb with me.” 

Staring at him you can’t believe the audacity of the boy standing in front of you, coming here, demanding to know what’s going on in your life when he’s the one who practically skipped on his way out of it. 

instead of stomping around and causing you a scene, you simply ignore him, “you’re in the way.” 

“Huh?” 

Pointing with a lazy finger to the sky you watch as his eyes follow, “don’t tell me you came here to bitch me out, you’re wasting your time.”

He leans in over your body so close that you can see the chocolate color of his eyes, eyes that you'd lose count of the times you’d stare into them. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me who he is.” 

“Okay.” You say nonchalantly, unbothered. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah go ahead, stay. ‘s long as you want,” you push yourself up from the pool, standing in a string bikini that matched your nails, “I’ll be the bigger person here, and I’ll leave.” 

Water dripped down your thighs as you walked to the front porch and pushed the door open, ready to slam it shut and twist the lock upon entry—but a dark boot prevents your dismissal.

Rolling your eyes you try to kick his knee to get him to move but he wouldn’t budge, and you huff in annoyance. 

“Pretty sure this is harassment.” 

You ignore the way he walks in your house like he knew his way around, even though he did, your house was a second home to him for years.

Shutting the door with dramatic flair, Eddie leans into your space, inches from your nose, “just answer my question sweetheart— and I’ll be on my happy little way.” 

“You’re deranged if you think I’m telling you anything.”

He cocks his head and laughs like a jerk, mocking you.

“Thata more than likely, but I know better than anyone,” his eyes undress you, fingernails skating across your thighs, “how much you like it.”

You turn and shout over your shoulder, “go home Eddie— I’m not in the mood for this!” 

He barrels around you, demanding your attention. 

“Aww you’re not in the mood?” his voice dipped to a gravelly bite of anger as he put his hand over his heart, “my sincerest apologies to your feelings baby…but I somehow don’t give a fuck about your little feelings when I find out from Gareth that you were sucking some guy’s dick in the Starcourt parking lot.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment and Eddie’s eyes are glassy, coated with pain. You never wanted to hurt him, never wanted him to look at you the way he is right now. 

“Ed—” 

He smirks.

“I think it’s cute…honestly, still doing the same shit you did with me…” he moves to brush your cheek with his thumb, “I’m flattered.”

“Get out,” you bite back, making to shove him to the door but you’re no match for him. 

“D’dya swallow for him like you did for me?” 

“Get..” 

“He bigger than me?” 

“…out!” your shoves are fruitless against his broad shoulders.

“Last I checked Harrington was the only one who had me beat… unless you’re fucking him too.”

The slap startled him, but he knew he deserved it. The torment in your eyes was fueled by his words and he fucking hated himself for making you feel that way. 

He was hurting too, body shaking with rage and swallowing tears the whole drive here. But, when your tears fell on the apples of your cheeks— all his pain turned to gloom. 

“I’m sorry— I— That was a dick thing to say.” 

“Do you think getting over you was easy for me?”

“I don’t know.” 

“It wasn’t.. and truthfully I don’t think I am yet, but what fucking choice did I have?!”

“Babe—.” 

“I loved you, Eddie… I still fucking love you. Why isn’t that—”

His large hands clutch your cheeks, warm lips press into yours with a magnetic force you had forgotten about. Eddie’s tongue tasted like the tobacco spice of a camel, and a subtle hint of mint, and you devoured it like you were starved. 

He whispers and groans how he was so stupid, a real dumb mother fucker, and that he never should have ended it. 

Accepting his apology—for now—you pull him towards the couch, heels rocking on the carpet until they hit firm on the plush sectional, still lip locked with the man you swore, that you hated to your friends but your pillow heard a different plea ever since he broke your heart.

His arms wrap around your waist, fingers daintily pulling the string from your bikini bottoms until the soft fabric hits the floor.  His Hellfire shirt joins them before you both collapse into one another on the cushions, Eddie’s hair draped into your face hiding you both away from consequences and the reality of bad decisions. 

He breaks away from your lips to lick up the slope of your neck, and your head angles back in ecstasy. His body temperature was like fire against your skin, curling your legs around his back you couldn’t get enough of him. 

“So fuckin’ beautiful,” Eddie grooaned, grinding into your naked cunt, his tongue kitten licking around your neck, working his signature hickey into your skin, “my angel.”

You moan feather light in his ear, fingers twisted into his curls. His hand works down your front, sliding between your slick folds with skills you swore only he possessed. 

He played your body like a guitar, knew how to tune you up, the proper way to hold you. A true expert of his craft— your pretty little noises would harmonize from the simple touch of his fingers, your sweet cunt clinching onto him like vice. 

“Missed that sound,” he chuckled, his bangs pushed up from the angle on your neck as you came undone, “so pretty like this… drunk on how I’m making you feel.” 

Your eyes were pinched shut, chest heaving from the breath shattering orgasm you haven’t had since you got dumped by him. Nobody came close to the way Eddie could do it.

Kissing him square on the mouth, you twist your tongue with his, massaging them together as if a flame could spark from the pink wet muscles.

Intimacy with Eddie felt like home, like a warm blanket straight from the dryer when you were freezing. A cup of soup to soothe an itchy throat. 

He melted into you, collecting each gasp you choked out with a kiss from his lips, doing a poor job of hiding the smirk on his face when your breath was stolen from his pistoning hips. 

New— but entirely the same, your bodies fell back into each other like no time had passed and he made up for what was lost, twice. Each time your cries rang out like music to his ears— his favorite song. 

You slept now, adjusting to his arm wrapped around you, a kiss to your forehead, and a new plea in your pillowcase— for Eddie to stay, forever. 

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie drabble #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson blurb

[almond-tofuuu]

❄️Can't lose you❄️

Zayne x reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and injuries but nothing is detailed, a little (lot) of angst, happy ending tho (kind of)

Word count: 600

Zayne's familiarity with injuries ran deep, forged through years of serving as a doctor and navigating the horrors of a war zone. His resilience, honed over time, stemmed from his ability to maintain composure in the face of chaos, a trait that set him apart as an exceptional surgeon. Yet, as he stood before you, your body drenched in a pool of crimson, his usual calm facade crumbled.

The ER exuded an eerie tranquility that night, a stark departure from its usual bustling pace. Zayne couldn't shake the unease gnawing at him, amplified by your absence. It had become a routine, a cherished moment – your brief visits to his office on your way home, a shared tranquility interrupted only by the relentless summons of emergencies. Initially, he brushed off your delay, perhaps you'd been sent out to deal with a group of wanderers, or maybe you simply missed the train again, it wouldn't be the first time, but as time stretched on, apprehension crept in.

The shrill beep of his pager interrupted his thoughts, summoning him to yet another crisis in the ER. Suppressing his concerns, Zayne hastily navigated the labyrinth of corridors, mentally bracing himself for the unknown ahead. Yet, no amount of preparation could have steeled him for the chilling sight that awaited.

There you lay, motionless upon a stretcher, a crimson tide seeping through your shirt.

Zayne's world ground to a halt.

In that moment, a profound uncertainty gripped him, eclipsing the clarity of his usually sharp mind. Fear and panic coiled around him, suffocating his every thought, rendering him powerless in the face of the unthinkable.

The room pulsed with frantic activity as medical staff swarmed around your motionless form, their urgent voices blending into a disorienting noise. Zayne, usually the epitome of composure in the chaos of the emergency room, found himself frozen, his years of expertise rendered moot in the face of your battered figure. Amidst the chaos, a distant announcement pierced through, signaling the preparation of the operating room, but it was the firm grip on his shoulder that momentarily yanked Zayne from his spiralling thoughts.

Turning, he met Greyson's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them amidst the chaos.

"We're taking her to the OR straight away... You should return to your office. I'll update you as soon as there's any news," Greyson's words were a lifeline in the storm.

Unable to find his voice, Zayne simply nodded, watching in silence as they wheeled you away, his heart heavy with unspoken fears.

Alone in his office, Zayne paced with restless anguish, the image of you haunting his thoughts. He, who had never been one to seek solace in prayer, found himself pleading to unseen forces for your survival. Despite his unwavering trust in Greyson and the medical team, his mind betrayed him with a torrent of doubts.

What if the worst were to happen?

What if your injuries were too severe?

What if he never got the chance to gaze into your beautiful eyes again?

His fingers raked through his disheveled hair, a futile attempt to anchor himself amidst the dark thoughts consuming him, unwilling to confront the unbearable prospect of a world without you.

After what seemed like an eternity, a gentle rap echoed on his office door. Ignoring his own disheveled state, Zayne hurried to greet the visitor, his heart hammering in his chest as he swung the door open to reveal Greyson's fatigued figure. The weariness etched on Greyson's face spoke volumes of the arduous surgery.

"Is she..." Zayne started, his voice faltering as he couldn't bring himself to complete the question.

Greyson's reassuring touch on Zayne's shoulder brought a wave of relief, his gentle gaze offering solace as he delivered the long-awaited news. "She's okay, Zayne. Just breathe... she's alive."

With a shuddering exhale, Zayne released the tension he hadn't realized he'd been holding, his eyes brimming with tears of gratitude as he whispered a heartfelt "thank you" to Greyson.

Gathering his composure, Zayne met Greyson's gaze once more. "Where is she? I need to see her."

Understanding the urgency in Zayne's request, Greyson provided the room number, observing silently as Zayne bolted down the corridor, propelled by a mix of hope and desperation towards you.

Entering your room, Zayne is engulfed by a tempest of emotions. His heart wrenches at the sight of the resilient hunter he holds dear, now lying vulnerable in the hospital bed, yet an overwhelming sense of gratitude washes over him knowing you're still breathing. Drawing closer to your bedside, his eyes meticulously trace the remnants of your ordeal etched onto your skin—every scratch, bruise, and cut a testament to your resilience. Tenderly, one hand reaches out to cradle your cheek while the other gently clasps yours.

"...I thought I lost you..." Zayne's voice quivers with raw emotion, tears finally breaking free as he surrenders to the flood of relief and fear that had been bottled up inside.

Bowing his head, Zayne tenderly plants a lingering kiss on your forehead, his touch conveying both love and resolve. Pulling back slightly, he murmurs softly against your skin, his voice unwavering, brimming with determination.

"I swear, I will never let anything or anyone hurt you again.... You mean too much to me. I-" he pauses, gathering his thoughts. "I should've said it sooner, but I was too afraid... Now I realise that living in a world without you is far more terrifying.... You mean more to me than you could ever know.... Losing you, would be the equivalent to someone ripping my heart out of my chest.... And when you wake up, I'll make sure you know just how much I love you...."

#love and deepspace #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #dr zayne

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: The pie thief has struck again. You know who it is but how to prove it? The answer is on the tip of his tongue.

Words: ~900

A/N: So this is SPN fic number two. The idea of Dean being such a pie fiend that he would steal someone else's pie from the fridge and deny it afterwards, really amused me. I obviously didn't get the desire to kiss him out of my system after the first SPN fic I wrote so here's another one 😂 It's not smut but there is mild adult themes which is why I ask minors not to read or interact. Reader is as generic as I can make but I have referenced as female. I hope you enjoy, and as always, I value your feedback and comments 💖

Warnings: kissing, mild violence, bad language as standard. Dean is an asshole. Reader is a bit of an asshole too. They're probably made for each other.

*** Minors do not read or interact ***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His arrogance, his smug superiority, the way he always acts like he’s untouchable… his goddamn pretty mouth.  Ugh!  Asshole!

You didn’t always hate him – you had known him for years, one hunter to another – but, since you had been forced to stay with both he and Sam in the bunker these last couple of months, he had really grated on your nerves. 

After your hunt of a large nest of vampires had gone wrong, you had become the hunted.  Your home decimated, your family too precious to put at risk by you staying with them; you had needed help.

Sam had insisted, so you agreed to stay with them until your vamp problem could be solved.  Only the nest turned out to be much bigger and far wider spread than you had first thought, and it was taking time for even the infamous Winchester brothers to put an end to.

The light in the refrigerator is stark as you stare inside.  It’s gone.  You slam the door, raging internally.  Why can you not have anything to yourself in this goddamn place?

“DEAN!”  You shout angrily at the top of your lungs, knowing he can hear you from his room down the hall, even with his music playing.

He won’t respond to you.  He never does.  Why should he?  You’re just some girl he’s got to put up with for a while.  Some girl he made a pass at that first week you were here, but you shut him down and he’s been an asshole to you ever since.

You storm up to his door and bray your fist against the wood as hard as you can.  “I know you’re in there!  Get your ass out here now!”  You shout and hammer your fist against the door until you hear him moving inside.

The door clunks as he unlocks it, and it swings open to reveal him stood in the doorway in a navy blue robe and slippers.  The light from his lamp is dim but warm, his music a moderate volume for the late hour.  He looks irritated that you’ve disturbed him, that quizzical frown and pout are a dead giveaway.  Good.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”  He smirks at you.

“You!”  You push past him, and he doesn’t try to block you.

“What now?”

This isn’t the first time you’ve had this argument and it probably won’t be the last.  Whenever Sam isn’t around, Dean always does something to piss you off, like he’s trying to bait you.

“You ate my pie!  AGAIN!”

His expression is schooled into that self-righteous assuredness it always is when you confront him.  His hands go to his hips – which looks ridiculous because of the robe – and he shifts his weight onto his other foot.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”  He says with a frown, and it’s entirely plausible that you’ve made a mistake, except it’s just the two of you here and you didn’t eat the damn pie.  “I haven’t seen any damn pie.”

“Oh yeah?!”  You square up to him, looking up into his eyes, unblinking, unphased.

“Yeah!”  He doubles down, firmly meeting your stare, leaning closer as if you would be intimidated by that.

It’s a short distance you need to cover and he is unprepared.  You expect him to push you away but he flounders, arms flailing and uncoordinated when you grip the lapels of his robe and pull him towards you.

When your lips meet he puckers up and blinks in shock, but you don’t give him time to realise what’s happening.  You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him tight as you slip your tongue between his lips, plundering his mouth.

It takes a beat, but he responds by gripping your hips and holding you against him, moaning into your mouth as he opens up to you.  The heat of his response takes you by surprise, but it shouldn’t have, really.  He’d wanted this since the first few days you were here.  Wanted you.

You ravage his mouth, your hands in his hair, making it messy as you practically melt into his arms.  His tongue plays perfectly with yours, his lips soft and yielding.  Dean Winchester is an exceptional kisser.  This fact makes you hate him even more.

As you pull back, breathless, Dean grins at you.  He looks happy and care-free, like the cat that got the cream.  Your face, however, holds a scowl.

“What’s wrong, darlin’?”  His expression changes to concern.

You lick your lips and it’s just as you thought, the sweet buttery goodness of pie crust and the pleasant tartness of sour cherry.  You slap him across the face – not hard but just enough to get his attention – and stride to the door leaving him confused.

“What the hell?!”  He rounds on you, his arousal tenting his robe.

“Don’t you dare eat my pie again.”

You leave your warning hanging in the air along with his frustration.  A smirk playing on your lips at the sight you had just left behind you; Dean Winchester with kiss-swollen lips and a hard-on for you.  It isn’t the worst thing you’ve seen but you still hate him, even if there’s now something else there along side it. 

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester kiss #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader kiss #spn #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean x reader #cloudy's writing

[muddyorbsblr]

what makes a princess

See my full list of works here!

Summary: Morgan asks a question about Jane's royalty status that leads to her revealing one of Loki's secrets

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning/s: potentially inaccurate depictions of how to become royalty in Asgard; other than that, none, this is just fluff [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Morgan being an adorable lil beb; Nat doling out some tickle torture; teammates/coworkers to lovers

"Is Auntie Jane a princess?" 

You looked up from your laptop, taking a break from typing out your latest set of reports to wrap up your most recent mission with Nat to look at little Morgan Stark, who was sitting across you at the dining table. She looked the spitting image of her father as she anticipated your answer. 

"I don't…think so…?" you trailed off, trying to remember if Thor had even mentioned anything recently about plans to marry the mystical hammer wielding scientist. "Maybe one day soon, baby. When they get married."

"Who's getting married?" The velvety low timbre of Loki's voice nearly made you jump out of your seat, his fingers briefly ghosting over the skin of your shoulder not helping in the slightest. A small squeak of protest slipped from your mouth when he picked up your coffee mug. "Ease your worry, darling. I'm simply refilling your cup. Black with a teaspoon of sugar, or would you prefer something sweeter?" 

Morgan's little laugh began to echo throughout the common area. "You have confuzzled brows again, Auntie Y/N." 

The image of the raven-haired god looking up at you through his lashes from where he stood behind the kitchen island may very well haunt your dreams tonight in the best possible way. "You know what…surprise me, Mischief." The smirk he sent your way should have had you worried with what he had in mind, and yet the only thing you felt was the violent fluttering in your stomach that had nothing to do with your prolonged fasting. "As for your first question…we were talking about Thor and Jane." 

"Ah, well my oaf of a brother may think he's been keeping relatively quiet about the matter, but that day will most definitely be coming sooner rather than later," he spoke over the clinking of a metal spoon stirring around in your cup. 

"So it's like in the cartoons?" Morgan directed her question at him. "The prince has to marry the woman he loves so that she becomes a princess?" 

"Not quite, little Stark." Your brows knit together again at the sound of whipped cream coming out of a can coming from his direction. "There are no strict marital customs in Asgard, and as such if a member of the royal court were to publicly commit themself to another, then in turn that individual would become royalty as well. Thor has publicly committed himself to Doctor Foster, and despite having abdicated the throne to the Valkyrie, he is still a Prince of Asgard." 

"So Auntie Jane is a princess?" 

"Don't arm us with this info, Laufeyson. I might just call her Princess Foster for the rest of time," Nat's voice sounded through the common area, her usually lethal hands wielding a more delicate touch when she ruffled the hair on your and Morgan's heads before occupying the seat beside you. 

"By Asgardian customs, yes. You can consider Doctor Foster a princess." 

The assassin eyed Loki's approaching form with a knowing smirk on her face, tilting her head to look at the mug he placed on the table a few inches from your hand. "Hold on, are you telling us that all that's needed for someone to be considered royalty in Asgard is if a member of the royal family is in love with them? That's it?" 

"If it's as widely known as how my brother loves his mortal," he confirmed. "And while I surmise that she will not appreciate being addressed as such, you would not be incorrect in calling her Princess or Your Highness." You were acutely aware of the god's proximity to you from the slight movement in the corner of your eye of his fingers at the back of your chair. And the slight heat coming from his body literally inches from your side.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Jane Foster," you mused, blowing lightly on the hot beverage in your mug and holding back the slightest thrill as the taste of your favorite little indulgence, a white chocolate mocha with a cold vanilla flavored whipped cream on top, flooded your tastebuds and blanketed you in an instant comfort. "She's definitely gonna hate that. Thank you, Mischief." 

Your heart caught in your throat when he tucked a hand under your chin, keeping you looking up at him as his free hand straightened out the ruffled locks of your hair, putting them neatly back into place. "My pleasure, little mortal," he murmured, swiping his thumb briefly at the corner of your mouth before walking back to the kitchen, starting on his own drink.

"You wanna fill me in on this domestic bliss vibe I'm picking up from Horns over there?" Nat whispered, leaning in so close she was practically draped on your lap trying to sneak the cup of coffee away from you to take a quick sniff. "He knows your 'treat yourself coffee'? Alright how long have you two been doing the horizontal tango, spill the hardware details, I'm texting Wanda and Jane. Toot suite. You've been holding out on us, you absolute slut--Ow." 

You rolled your eyes at her reaction to you elbowing her in the side. "Please, we both know that barely tickled. Now stand down, Romanoff, I haven't been holding back on anything and you know it--"

"That means you're a princess, too, Auntie Y/N!"

The Russian spy chuckled at Morgan's excitement, resting her chin on your shoulder like a child awaiting a bedtime story. "Uhm…no, sweetie. It doesn't work like that," you tried explaining to the little girl. "See there's more than one kind of love. There's the romantic love like you see in your princess movies, and that's the type that your Dad has for your Mom, the type Thor has for Jane. And that's what makes your Auntie Jane a princess."

"Then there's the love for family and friends," Nat continued for you, motioning between the three of you. "The way I love you, Uncle Clint, Auntie Y/N, and the rest of the team--well, most of them." She elbowed you before you could let out the teasing words dancing at the tip of your tongue. The name of the one that Nat loved in the romantic sense. "Not a single word, Williams."

"I wasn't gonna say anything," you deflected coyly, batting your eyes to feign innocence. "It's not like when you said 'most' my mind immediately went to a certain Serge--NAT!!" You busted out into giggles as nimble fingers found every single ticklish spot by your ribs and showed you no mercy. "I'll get--hahahahaha--I'll get you back for thihihihis, Romanoff, I promise you."

You made a quick note to slip some hot pink hair dye into her shampoo bottle on your next sleepover. The tickling onslaught had taken up all your attention that you didn't even notice that the dark-haired Asgardian leaning back against the kitchen counter was watching the scene before him, a fond smile slowly stretching across his face the longer he watched you.

Nat eventually let up once you started clutching your stomach from laughing too hard, continuing her explanation to little baby Morgan, who was currently the picture of angelic patience. And now looking not a thing like her father.

"Anyway, that kind of love is the kind that Thor has for us. That means that while there is love there, it doesn't make the entire team princes and princesses. You get me, baby?" 

"I get you, Auntie Nat. But you don't get me. Auntie Y/N is a princess, too." 

You took a breath before closing your laptop, promising yourself that you'd finish the reports later tonight. "Last I checked, sweetheart, Asgardian Barbie doesn't like me like that." 

She rolled her eyes at you. "I know that! But Prince Loki does, and that's why you're a princess, too!" 

The amused smile on your face immediately dropped at her words, your neck twitching from the sound of a spoon clattering against the sink and the sound of hurried footsteps walking out of the kitchen causing your skin to prickle. "Morgan…sweetie, you know it's not nice to say things that aren't true," you said softly, not bothering to mask the wavering tone of your voice. 

"But it is!" she insisted, pointing her little hand towards the door. "Princess Auntie Jane, tell her!" 

"Princess--? Oh…I'm guessing you all know about those customs in Asgard that technically make me a princess now?" You nodded your answer at her, not trusting yourself to say anything while you were still struggling to wrap your head around that bombshell that Morgan dropped on you. Wondering if it even was a bombshell to begin with or just the child's overactive imagination. "So I'm also guessing that now you all know that Y/N's a princess, too?" 

"She most definitely is not," you protested, briefly poking at her ribs to drive your point home. "Jane. Babes, this isn't funny." You motioned a pointed finger between her and Nat. "You both know how I feel about him, so baiting me with this kind of hope is just cruel and unusual punishment, especially when I know I haven't done anything wrong to either of--"

"You kind of really are, though," the scientist kept on, giving you a look as if she was amused by how this was completely new information to you. "You really didn't know that Mr 'You are all beneath me' wants you literally beneath him?" 

"Foster, I am two seconds away from kicking your ass over that line. Mostly because I didn't think of it myself." You elbowed Nat in the side again. "Harder. I could almost feel that." 

"Can you two just be serious for two seconds and tell the baby that she's wrong about Loki?" 

You were about to face Morgan again to advise her to find the god and apologize for saying something so outlandish, when Nat and Jane moved in unison, a hand placed on each of your shoulder, leaning in a way that you were now face to face with both of them.

"Okay, little baby," Jane started with a mock serious look. "You're wrong about Loki." 

"Unbelievably wrong," Nat capped off. "Fine. If you don't believe us, then let's start with how he saved you from that building in Belarus." 

"He has saved each of our asses at least once in the last few years," you argued.

"Yeah, but he doesn't heal us with his magic and then stays with us in the medical wing waiting for us to wake up. And I should know because that entire night Thor gave me a laundry list of the times that he got injured from battle and Loki would tell him, and I quote, that 'he shouldn't expend his energy on healing magic when it could have been better utilized for fortifying defenses'." 

"That's--That can't--That doesn't sound right," you muttered, trying to remember anything from Belarus other than being trapped under a collapsed column, convinced that your legs were done for and you'd never walk again, assuming that anyone would even find you in the wreckage. And then next thing you knew you were in the medical wing, with the god only briefly touching your head and telling you that he was glad you were alright before running off to call for Bruce to check on you.

"You make him smile," Morgan spoke up, her face lit up the same way it did when you sat with her on Princess Movie Nights. 

"He smiles around everyone as long as they're not your father or your Uncle Steve." 

"No, Auntie Y/N." She flopped herself onto the table, arms outstretched towards you, like she was trying to quite literally grab your attention and hold on to it. "With us, Prince Loki smiles with his face. When you're around, he smiles with his heart." 

Her words had you stunned silent, frozen in your seat as your friends let you go to walk over to the other side of the table and lift Stark's daughter up in the air to wrap her in a warm embrace and nuzzle her cheeks, earning them several little echoing giggles from her. 

"I uhm…I should go," you mumbled, standing from the table and giving your laptop a small tap. "I'll finish my reports tonight." 

"Tomorrow," Nat corrected you. "I have a feeling you're gonna be a bit busy tonight, Princess." 

Your pulse was drumming loudly in your ears with every step you took towards Loki's apartment, every single nerve on your body on high alert as if readying you to run at a moment's notice. Whether that was away from his place and back to the compound to tell everyone they were wrong, or into his arms, was yet to be seen.

When you reached his door, you could hear voices coming from the other side. One more hushed and panicked, the other jovial and boisterous. Thor.

"You should have stayed, Brother! You finally need not hide your affections for her, and might I say. 'Tis about time because your skirting around her was getting more than tiresome, Jane and I have been considering locking you two in a tiny room together so you could just tell her." 

You couldn't hear what Loki said in response other than something about 'being exposed by Stark's offspring', but that was more than enough to convince you that maybe this wouldn't end in you feeling like a total clown. That maybe there was more credit to the words of Morgan and your friends than you first believed. 

Just three seconds of bravery, that's all you need, you told yourself, raising your hand to rap on the door before you could talk yourself out of it. 

"It seems that in matters of the heart, your little mortal is braver than you, Brother," you heard the blond Asgardian comment before the door opened to reveal the towering bulging god, giving you a knowing look before shuffling out of your way. "I will gladly answer any question he leaves unanswered by the end of the week, my friend." 

"I'm holding you to that, Blondie," you waved him off with a playful smile before turning to face Loki. "Can we talk?" 

He looked at you with a hint of caution, almost as if he was on the same level of anxiety that you were, before giving you a small nod and motioning toward the door. "Come in, darling." 

The words tumbled out of you as soon as you closed the door. "They told me about Belarus." The caution in his eyes turned into panic. "But I need to hear it from you. Because I have…gaps? In my memory. Things I can't reconcile." 

He closed the distance separating you two, taking your hands in his. "Ask me." 

"The last thing I remember from that building was that I couldn't feel my legs. And I know that even with all the tech Stark has at his disposal, I shouldn't be up on my feet right now. Not like this. Rhodey is still in crutches despite all the efforts of Stark and Banner combined, and yet somehow…I'm not. So please. Tell me. Did you--" 

"I healed you," he cut you off, finishing your inquiry. "I could not bear the thought of you waking up distraught. Adjusting to a new reality where you had to rely on any form of machinery to help you function. Not when I knew that I could cure those ails." 

The air left your lungs at his admission, leaving you struggling to even form your next words. "What happened to energy better expended fortifying defenses?" 

His mouth turned up slightly in a knowing smirk. "I see my brother told Doctor Foster of our days in the battlefield." 

"And he's a touch wounded about it." You gave him a playful squint of your eyes, trying your damnedest to keep the mood light despite how closely he was standing, so close you could feel the slight heat radiating off of him, thinning the air to the point that you found it hard to take in your next breaths. "Why did you do it? You were in the clear, everyone else was in the clear, we finished the mission--"

"I didn't give a damn about the mission," he hissed, stepping even closer to you and effectively trapping you between him and the solid door behind you. His breath came out in shuddering exhales, bottom lip quivering ever so slightly as he rested his forehead against yours. "The only objective that held any weight with me was keeping you safe." His hand rested lightly on your waist, thumb softly stroking your ribcage. "I have braved far worse things than a burning building and I will face even more dire perils if it means your safety. If it means I do not have to witness your light fading away. And as for why…"

He brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose before his lips ghosted a path to your forehead. If it hadn't been for the god wrapping his arm around you and securing you against him, you would have sunk to the ground from his attentions. 

"It is because Stark's daughter speaks the truth," he whispered into your skin, pressing a kiss between your brows. "Because I love you, precious mortal. I never intended for you to know this, to be burdened with the knowledge of my affections, but seeing as I cannot unring this bell, I only wish for you to know that I hold you under no obligation to say anything. All I ask is for to not detest me for my--"

"Are you sure you don't want me to say anything?" you choked out, your heart at your throat from attempting to come to terms with this reality. That these words were actually coming from the god you'd silently pledged your heart to so long ago. That not only did he feel the same, but he was on the exact same page that you were on, believing that the love was unrequited.

"I have long ago resigned to the certainty that my affections for you are--"

"Requited," you breathed, raising shaking hands to rest on his chest, tears welling in your eyes as you felt his erratic heartbeat against your palm. "Don't you dare even try to unring this bell because I don't detest you, Mischief." You braced yourself on his shoulders, rising to the tips of your toes to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his lips. "I love you, too." 

You felt your feet leave the ground as his arm tightened around you and lifted you up, bringing your faces level to one another, his fingers weaving through your hair in a firm yet gentle hold. "Are you sure, darling? You wish to be mine?" 

"Yes!" you blurted out, your face breaking out into a grin that instantly made your cheeks ache. You could feel the tension that flooded you just moments ago slowly melting away at the sight of him mirroring your joy over the turn of events. Any words you wished to say fell silent with a small squeak at the back of your throat when he leaned in again and captured your lips in a more heated kiss, sighing into each others mouths as he lifted you away from the wall, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

When Loki held you up by one arm, opening his apartment door with the other and proceeding to walk back out into the hallway, you let out a little squeak against his lips. "Where--"

"You'll see, my love," he said with a chuckle, pressing one more kiss to your lips before shifting his hold on you, swinging your whole body until he carried you bridal style. "I believe I owe someone a small debt of gratitude for telling you what I had insisted I keep to myself for fear of your abhorrence." 

He leaned down and touched his forehead to yours, lightly rubbing the tips of your noses together and making you giggle at the tender gesture. "I could never--"

"I told you he smiles with his heart!" Morgan's little voice pierced the silence of the hall. "And now you do, too, Princess Auntie Y/N!" 

A/N: For some reason this has been microwaving in my head for weeks before I even began writing it, so now y'all have it, too 👀🫡

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fluff #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

[yaekiss]

since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs. 

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching. 

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps. 

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?” 

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

#📜.qi writings #📜.qi musings #📜.qi chats #chats with pulp! #yandere #genshin x reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #yandere genshin #sub yandere #kaeya x reader #kaeya smut #sub kaeya #yandere kaeya #dom reader #PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED OUT ANYTHING I SHOULD'VE PUT IN MY CONTENT WARNINGS #it's like 7am rn and the words are swimming b4 my eyes jk #ANYWAYS #hope you enjoy reading this pulpie KJBEKFRBWKFB #I still feel like I'm rusty ugh maybe I should do short blurbs next #how does vamp kaeya sound? ;3

[pandagirl45]

Villian: stark I'm going to show images of people who you interacted with in your life, you have to sing on live television, international to save their lives or be looked as a monster!

Tony:

Tony: *gets shown pepper and rhodey* *belting it out*

*gets shown bruce*

Villian: *shows stone and hammer*

Tony: 🙃

Villian: hold up... you're serious *shows steve and bucky

Tony: *sings and dances*

Villian: *shows hammer and stone*

Tony: 🙂

Villian: seriously!!??

Tony: *shrugs*

Hammer: it's me!! I'm the villian!!!

Tony: *throwing hands* I am Italian motherfu-

[The feed cuts]

#tony stark #bucky barnes #steve rogers #tony stark x bucky barnes #winteriron #stony #steve rogers x tony stark #lol this is dumb #james rhodey rhodes #justin hammer #proceeds to fuck around and find out #lol im sorry #pepper potts

[saiidahyunie]

love me a little more

kim dahyun x f!reader 

synopsis: you weren’t much of a romantic type, always telling yourself that the intimacy was too much—all of that changed when dahyun came around. 

warnings: fluff ; implied smut ; steamy makeout sesh ; not proofread

a/n: wanted to challenge myself into writing a fic in one sitting (i failed ;-;) but i've been more motivated to get more sana and dahyun content going on my blog!

the rain was relentless. canceling your date night with dahyun that would’ve been a hefty price tag at the fancy restaurant was a fantastic idea. 

once the rolling credits of avengers endgame had ended with the soft sound of a hammer smashing on another piece of metal signifying tony stark making his first ever suit, you shift your head to the other shoulder while you mindlessly shut off the tv in the living room. 

your right arm is pinned down by dahyun, who was fast sleep with her head on your shoulder. she insisted that you and her have a movie night together instead of going out, and she was right considering the small pitter patter sounds of the raindrops hitting the window in the dimmed household calling for the much needed bedtime. what made this more funnier was how dahyun said that she’d stay up for the entirety of the movie—only to doze off before the last twenty or so minutes towards the end. 

before your mind could surrender at the thought of just sleeping on the couch for the night, not that you had a problem with that anyway, it would be better to just use the remaining energy left to just breeze past the hallway and into the bedroom, so lightly stretch all of your muscles and body parts while sitting, letting out a soft cough that causes dahyun to cling onto your arm tightly.

“hey…” you whisper over her head, “want me to carry you?” 

dahyun lets out a soft hum through her oversized hoodie as your other hand finds hers clinging to your shirt, you can’t help but chuckle at the way she’s acting while you brush the side of her hair, scratching her scalp that makes dahyun melt more into the fabric. 

“okay, let me get up at least beb.” 

managing to get up and move your arm a little bit from its captivity, you turn around to face dahyun who was still sitting down, now curled up into a small ball into the couch, enveloping her with your upper body as your arms hook around her back and legs, lifting her up her arms find your neck—and she’s a little more awake now than just a few moments ago. 

“we’re a little more awake now huh?” you say as dahyun leans her head in to give you a kiss on the cheek, one of her many ways of appreciation since acts of service was your main love language while dahyun’s was physical touch. (gift giving was her first one technically)

the dark corridor was filled with the soft murmurs of dahyun singing somewhat of a song as you make it past the bedroom door, moving closer to the bed before setting her down gently. dahyun then tries to reach for the covers, but you stop her, waving a finger while you went ahead and did it for her yourself, patting down the comforter once she was all snuggled up. 

you were about to go to the bathroom to wash up, only for your hand to be caught by hers stopping you from leaving. 

“you okay?” you ask her, turning your body before sitting down on the bed closer to her. 

dahyun lets the silence fall for just a moment before answering, “yeah. i’m okay.” 

“i was just gonna wash up before coming back, do you need anything?” 

“well…” dahyun mutters out with a pouty look on her face, “i just want you beside me, that’s all.” 

your head dips down from the answer before softly smiling at her, it was late anyway and you were just keeping yourself away from the comfortable bed that was in front of you. washing up can come later in the morning—it was already midnight and the rain falling made it the perfect background noise to fall asleep instantly. 

“okay,” you say while cupping dahyun’s cheek, looking at her in the eyes, entranced by the galaxy that lies behind those set of dark irises. “i’m tired anyway.” 

a shifting movement fills the bed, and you’re spooning dahyun under the covers. 

the feeling is so safe for the both of you, the radiating warmth encapsulating with the comforter cuddling away to your heart's content as your chin fins the crook of dahyun’s neck, planting a soft kiss alongside the line of her throat while your arms link around her waist, pulling her closer to you. 

tiredness didn’t always guarantee an instant slumber. 

you’re trying to fall asleep, eyes wide open as you let your mind ponder in the vast space of darkness, the only lightsource let alone sound is the faint whirr of the humidifier on the small seat next to the nightstand, the scent of apple cedarwood filling the small space on dahyun’s side of the bed for the next few minutes. 

though it hasn’t been that long, all things considered. 

moving your body under the sheets would only keep you up, and you didn’t know if dahyun was already fast asleep like earlier, so you don’t bother to ask or move, you’re just staying still as a log. 

luckily, dahyun also couldn’t fall asleep right away, so you were glad that you weren’t the only one. she turns her body around to face you, laying on her side while your hands shift lower to the small of her back, meeting her hips. her hands creep up to the front of her body, fiddling with the loose cotton of your shirt while your chin nicks a little bit of her forehead. 

“can’t sleep?” you say quietly enough for her to hear, and dahyun looks up. 

“yeah, i don’t know why.” 

“you managed to stay up for the majority of the movie only to doze off right at the end.” you laugh while dahyun taps your chest. 

“it’s your fault for picking a three hour long movie in the first place!” 

“who was the one who didn’t want to go out tonight?” you ask in a doubled down effort.

dahyun lets out a sound that is almost an ‘i’, but closes her parted lips in defeat knowing that you won the exchange of banter. 

a chuckle leaves your nostrils as you pull dahyun more closely, pressing your lips to her forehead with your hands on her cheeks, the meaningfulness behind it bringing a softer side of you to the front stage. 

“i love this.” dahyun mutters out, giddily, smiling between your fingers, “how could you be so good at love?” 

you’re staring at her, eyes darting in competition with hers, studying the concaves of her face and lips, trying to find the next words to suffice an answer—nothing comes to mind.

you don’t need words to tell how you feel about someone. especially with dahyun. 

a first action was all that was needed when you lean forward. your lips finally meet dahyun’s, the kiss deepening as she presses her face deeper against yours, the rush of breaths clashing against the open air. its like succumbing to an open wound, the way her lips just mesh perfectly together with yours, her fingers slide on the nape of your neck, and you’re trying to decide whether to pull away or not. 

you don’t want to, but for a slight second you do—moving your body underneath the comforter, taking the high ground hovering on top of dahyun, staring at her. 

her eyes don’t lie, her cheeks are rosy pink through the hindering light, her lips bruised, hair tousled a bit, and she’s breathing raggedly. 

“baby,” you mumble out, “is there—” 

“just kiss me.” 

without thinking twice, you go back for more. indulging in the touches like you have before, but not like this. fighting with your lips—biting, gnawing, pulling the other till it gets swollen or bruised, it’s igniting a fire from within, and it’s the same for dahyun.

the real work truly begins when you shift to her jaw and cheeks, your hands join in on the fun by slipping underneath her hoodie, the unreal slim waist that dahyun possessed now being held by your fingertips as you continued to take your time leaving marks across the whole board. 

her hands are buried in your hair as she seems to have a good read on your thoughts at this moment, parting her lips again for you. when you meet her level again, there’s a swipe of the tongue, first in your mouth, and a trade off for hers. she’s softly humming, the sound of her filling your mouth while you reach her breasts from underneath, fondling with them as you leave another trail of kisses against her neck. 

“god.” dahyun gasps out, and you silence her with your mouth but with a little less sense of urgency than earlier. each exchange of kisses being softer, slower. you’re taking your time with your lover as the neediness creeps out and away in exchange for sleepiness. 

a final smack of the lips before resting your forehead on top of hers for a brief moment, planting one more kiss on her cheek before laying down beside dahyun again, wrapping arms and legs—not wanting any sudden movements from this point on while sleeping. 

“goodnight dub,” you mumble before kissing the top of her head, and she murmurs out another sound against your shirt before drifting off to sleep finally. 

or so you thought. 

a cloudy, rainy morning greets the room through the curtains, and dahyun is the first one to wake up. 

there’s been a tousle in the sheets, but somehow her body is still next to yours surprisingly with your arms still linked around her—all arms and legs against each other. 

she shifts over a little closer to your body, her arm across your waist, but the surface is a little bit peculiar to her feeling when her eyes flutter open to notice that the shirt that was on you from the night prior was off. what makes this all the more puzzling, was that her hoodie was off too, exposing her whole chest as well. 

dahyun looks down at the small hint of marks that were on her neck and a little bit of her collarbone. she doesn’t remember how those got there in the first place and her curiosity got the better of her when she peeped under the covers; she was in her underwear, a more astute observation at that. 

her mind lazes at the thought, and she just nestles into the upper portion of your chest, lightly rubbing the lines of your ribs like playing on a harp. 

eventually, she ultimately decides to sit up from your arching arm, letting it fall on her hip while she rubs her eyes to get rid of the lingering sleepiness and the small crusty bits that nestle between the corner of your eyes. 

you let out a monotone sound into the pillow next to dahyun as she pats your forearm as an acknowledgement, giggling while she leans over to your smushed face in the cushions, showering you with light kisses to get you going. 

“dub,” you mutter into the fabric as the ends of her hair tickle the cuff of your ear. “don’t even think about getting up from bed…” 

“i wasn’t!" she yells lightly. "besides, i’m hungry anyway.” 

“mmmmmmmmmmm.” is the only sound that’s heard while dahyun flips her hair to the otherside, hand slithering underneath the covers before the pads of her fingertips dance away before lightly pinching your side, getting you even more awake now. 

“hey! what was that for?!” you gasp out, lifting the upper half of your body from underneath the mountain of your thick blanket with one eye open, groaning dramatically before shoving your face more into the pillow. 

dahyun can’t help but laugh at your mini temper tantrum, shaking your head into the pillow, and hitting the bed with your fists, she also sees the heels also kick up in retaliation as well. 

she then gets on top of your back, placing more light-hearted kisses from behind your ear and down to your neck—dahyun’s favorite sensitive spots of your body whenever you two got more sunk in more private settings—this was no different. 

you then roll her off your back, sitting up slightly while she couldn’t help herself to kiss you just a bit more, putting herself over you as your hand seamlessly finds the lower part of her jaw, thumb resting on her cheek. the feeling of it is so tender, and the sound of the rain hitting the window really sets the atmosphere altogether. 

“did you take off my hoodie in the middle of the night?” she asks with her lips still stuck on yours. 

“yeah, it got a little stuffy.” you reply, landing another kiss to her bottom lip, pulling on it slightly while you look up at her with puppy dog eyes. “i might have done a little bit more than that actually.” 

“i figured.” dahyun says, pulling away even more, looking down at the small hints of marks across her neck and chest. “but i’m not complaining though.” 

you’re looking at her lips, then the marks you mindlessly made while you slid off your shirt and her hoodie at some point during the middle of the night, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself that time. now you’re biting your lip at her appearance. her beautiful, natural long black hair, bare face that looks even more alluring minus all the makeup (very minimally), her milky white skin with the hints of red marks all over, you want to do more damage—god you’ll pretty much will. 

so you sit up, lips back on hers in record time, the kiss deepening by the second. her hands are moving in a frenzy, saliva being slid from both of your tongues, hearing the heavenly sounds come through in vibrations. your hand is through her hair, while the other is around her snatched waist. 

the degree of elevation is then changed. you’re on top of her, and she’s below you. pulling away slightly as dahyun looks at you with longing eyes, the slight heaving from her chest, and she’s colored in a brilliant shade of pink—all for you. behind these walls and closed doors, where no one else sees, it’s perfect really. 

“i think i have some unfinished business for you… the coffee can wait.” you say with a grin, the next thing dahyun sees is you lowering back, and she doesn’t even feel her underwear slip off from her body but your hands sliding up her legs to her hips. 

she doesn’t fight the sounds coming out of her with the back of her hand. 

the lighter of the stove clicks on the other end while you’re moving the pan back and forth with a set of scrambled eggs, humming along to a faint jazz song on your phone set to the left of you on the countertop. 

you’re swaying slightly to the music when a pair of arms coat your waist, the cloth of your shirt getting rumpled underneath. dahyun’s head is laid on your back, eyes closed but with a beaming happy smile, all giddy and everything—a clear indication that you definitely gave her some of that morning magic just ten minutes ago. 

“go ahead and sit down, dub,” you say, nicking your head back slightly. “i’m almost done here.” 

she can only hum in response, kissing your back before she gingerly walks to the other end of the small kitchen island, still eepy and more than relaxed. you turn off the stove with the plate of scrambled eggs showered with some garlic salt and scallions, the other small plate in your hand with a stack of toast while you slide it over across. 

feeding her a spoonful of scrambled egg while you’re munching through a slice of toast, dahyun’s face melts from the taste and cooking that you were so skilled at. you can’t help fall in love a little more at the sight of her being cozy and homey on days like these. 

“it’s so cute when you can’t talk after we have sex.” you say out of nowhere, the last bite of egg passing your throat with ease. dahyun looks at you with deadlocked eyes, before she lightly punches you in the shoulder, acting all hurt while laughing. “i’m kidding! it’s still funny though.” 

“i’m still waiting for my coffee.” she says, eyeing over the espresso machine that’s unplugged, with the two capsules for you and her both. “i’m leaving a one star review on yelp and not giving you a tip.” 

you roll your eyes, before she pulls that eye smile of hers, kissing you on the cheek as her way of apologizing. blinking twice before you peck her lips and cheek twice before you fulfill her request. “you got it miss kim.” 

#hyunie #dahyun #twice x reader #kpop x reader #dahyun x reader #kim dahyun #kpop imagines #twice imagines #twice dahyun #twice fluff #twice smut #dahyun twice #dahyun x you #twice x you

[dorabledewdroop]

The White Healer Chapter 2

Summary: Reader wakes up somewhere unknown and ends up meeting the avengers

Chapter warnings: nothing really? Panic, anxiety?

I know I'm pacing this slowly but I'm doing this the only way I know how. I really hope everyone likes it.

Series Masterlist

X--X--X--X--X--X

Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Your entire body tensed as you registered the beeping sound. Your eyes shot open and to your horror, you were in a bright white room. An IV attached to your arm and a machine beeping your increasing heart rate. 

No no no no. Please no

Not waiting for a moment, you ripped anything attached to you off and immediately ran out of the room. Not knowing where you were going. Just knowing you had to get out of this place. You turned in random directions. It was all going splendidly, that was, until you heard the alarms ringing. 

Great.This is just what I needed. you thought. 

Not thinking you ran straight into a room that looked like… a lounge?

You froze, as did every single person in the room. All eyes on you.

They stood up slowly. Afraid to scare you even further. You took a step back, clearly hyperventilating. Within a moment you turned around from where you came and sprinted out. Only to run face first into a wall of muscles. You quite literally bounced back and fell flat on your ass. The bearded blonde man’s eyes widened as if he had barely noticed you running into him. 

“My deepest apologies. I didn’t see you there” the bearded man said in a deep British accent. You gasped at what he was carrying. It was a hammer. A huge one. Surely he wouldn’t use that on you? Not taking a chance you scrambled back and ran the other way only to run into another body. 

What the fuck do these people eat?? Why are they made of bricks?  You think as, once again, you fall back. 

This time however it’s the white haired boy you had saved. You remembered he called himself Pietro. 

You grabbed his hands. 

“Please don’t let them take me. Please I beg you. I can’t go through that again” you whispered desperately. 

Pietro’s eyes narrowed in concern and slowly nodded his head. The moment he put a protective arm around your shoulder, you sighed in relief. 

“Nobody will harm you here. I promise” he said gently. “Can I introduce you to them?”

Breathing deeply through your nose, you nodded. 

He guided you the room you had scrambled away from. He beside you as you actually took a look at everyone in the room, including the bearded man with the hammer. 

Did he really carry that everywhere he went? That must be quite inconvenient. 

Shaking the thoughts out of your head you allowed yourself to actually look at everyone’s faces. You felt the blood drain from your face as you recognised most of them. 

“You’re… you’re the Avengers..” you whispered. Loud enough that they heard you. Some of them chuckled. You did not.

“That we are” the guy with the hammer said as he took a step forward. He laid a brief kiss on your knuckles as he took your hand in his.

Chuckling you curtsied.

“My name is Thor Odinson, god of thunder” He stated, his hands sparkling with electricity.

“That’s enough Point Break. How about we all introduce ourselves as well?” Tony Stark said, putting a hand on Thor’s shoulder.

Eventually, everyone introduced themselves: Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Sam Wilson.

It took a second for you to notice everyone staring at you expectantly, your eyes widened as you realised what they were expecting.

“I’m y/n. Y/n y/l/n” You said as confidently a you could. Which, let’s be honest, wasn’t that confident to begin with.

As everybody went to sit around the sofas, you sat on a chair awkwardly. 

Steve cleared his throat. “So y/n, Clint here told us that during the fight in Sokovia you were-“

A flurry of noise outside caused you to turn around and see a rush of brown hair charging towards you. Panicking, you stood up ready to run. Before you could, the brunettes body slammed into you in the form of a hug. 

I have to admit.. this is pretty nice 

You found yourself relaxing into the hug regardless of how hard this person was hugging you. You felt weirdly… safe?

Pietro cleared his throat with what could only be described as a shit eating grin on his face.

“This is my sister, Wanda Maximoff” he introduced.

Eventually, Wanda broke the hug and looked at you, her face slightly red.

‘Holy shit she’s fucking gorgeous’ you thought to yourself.

You looked at Pietro, a little confused. Not noticing how her face turned the shade of a tomato.

She looked at you with her forest green eyes. You were immediately lost in them. Fuck everyone else, you were going to spend the rest of your life looking into those eyes.

You saw her mouth move, not registering what she was saying. A small smirk on her face brought you back to the present.

“I’m sorry what was that?” You said blushing.

From the corner of your eye you saw Pietro’s face about to split with how wide his smile had gotten.

“Thank you so much for saving my brother’s life” She repeated. “I- I felt.. I couldn’t feel him for a second.”

A dark look took over her face, anguish filled her eyes. That’s when Pietro stepped towards her and grabbed her into a hug

“I’m fine, Sestra” He said, rubbing her back soothingly

You looked away to give them privacy, to notice mostly everyone else had done the same.

Once Wanda was feeling better, she sat down besides her brother.

“By the way y/n” Pietro started “Are you sure you want to continue wearing that hospital outfit?”

Huh? HUH?

You look down at yourself and notice you’ve been wearing.. scrubs? Why the fuck were you wearing scrubs??? You’re not even a doctor? Why did anyone allow you to wear scrubs.

“That was actually me..” A new voice said from near the door. 

It felt familiar.. It was as alluring as Wanda’s voice. Your head shot to the door and saw another equally drop dead gorgeous woman.

Why the fuck are the women in this building so fucking attractive??

“I presumed that princess here wouldn’t take too kindly to waking up strapped to machines in a hospital gown.. I’m Natasha by the way.. Natasha Romanoff” Natasha continued.

You blushed even harder at the nickname. You were still distracted by her beauty when Wanda clapped her hands, startling you ever so slightly.

“It’s settled then” she said with a smirk. “Nat and I will help y/n change into something more comfortable while the boys order in some food for lunch.”

Before you could react Nat nodded her head as Wanda grabbed your hand and led you outside the room.

‘What the fuck is going on.’ You thought as both of the girls held each of your hands and guided you towards what must be the living quarters.

Oh this is going to be a long day…

X--X--X--X--X--X

I hope everyone is enjoying.

Tag List (I really hope I'm doing this correctly, I'm sorry if I haven't):

@marvelwomen-simp

#wanda maximoff #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff #mcu #wanda maximoff smut #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #The White Healer

[sadnymi]

「 ✦ No time to die. ✦ 」

Tom riddle x reader

Summary: Blind devotion. That's what it had been. For years, I'd been hopelessly enamored with Tom Riddle, his charm and intellect blinding me to the crimson flags that fluttered in the periphery. I ignored the whispers, the unease that gnawed at the edges of my comfort. He was Tom, my Tom, and love, I believed, conquered all.Then, the truth shattered my carefully constructed world. I stumbled upon his darkest secret , But even with the truth laid bare, the question remained: would he let me go?

Warnings: smut ,angst,strong language

Words:3,7k

The crisp autumn air whipped at my cheeks as I practically skipped back to Tom's.We'd spent the past year inseparable, and it was the happiest I'd ever been. He was everything I ever dreamed of – My entire life felt like a love letter to Tom Riddle.

Reaching the front door, a surge of anticipation bubbled up inside me. I fumbled with my key, eager to surprise Tom with my return. As I pushed the door open, the sound of hushed voices drifted from the sitting room. My smile faltered.

One voice, Tom's, smooth and familiar, the other, sharper, belonged to Avery. Curiosity tugged at me, so I tiptoed closer, pressing my ear against the partially closed door.

"Don't go soft now, Tom," Avery drawled. "We all know she's just part of your plan, right?"

A cold dread slithered down my spine. "She's useful, Avery," Tom replied, his voice devoid of the warmth he usually reserved for me. "She's the brightest witch in her year, and her understanding of Hogwarts will be invaluable. Besides," he added, a chilling nonchalance in his tone, "I know what I'm doing."

My heart hammered against my ribs. What plan? What did he mean by 'useful'? The pieces of seemingly unconnected events slammed together in my mind - the "accidents" that plagued his rivals, the mysterious illness that sent a student to Azkaban – all the whispers I'd brushed aside.

A wave of nausea washed over me. The truth, stark and horrifying, slammed into me - Tom hadn't loved me. He'd used me.

Before I could react, the conversation ended abruptly. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the tears back. My hand trembled as I reached for the doorknob, the urge to flee the only thing driving me.

The door creaked open, revealing a startled Avery, who paled at the sight of me. He stammered something about leaving and practically bolted past me. My gaze darted to Tom, his face an unreadable mask.

The devastation was so profound, it felt like my world was shattering around me. The man I loved, the man I'd trusted with my heart, was a stranger – a monster.

I stumbled back, a strangled cry escaping my lips. Tom lunged for me, but I twisted away, my scream echoing in the empty house. Tears streamed down my face as I bolted past him, the need to escape overwhelming. He grabbed my arm, his grip surprisingly tight, but I fought back with a strength I didn't know I possessed.

“Don't touch me!" I screamed, yanking my arm away from his grasp. "How could you?" The words tumbled out, choked with betrayal. "All this time... you were just using me?"

Tom's eyes narrowed, but there was a flicker of something else in them – ? Regret? It didn't matter.

"You were the best witch in your year," he said, his voice tight. "I needed someone smart, someone who could understand Hogwarts, its secrets..."

His justifications fell on deaf ears. This wasn't the Tom I thought I knew. This was a stranger, a monster cloaked in the face of the boy I loved.

My struggle was useless. Tom's grip on my arm felt like iron, his face a mask of cold calculation that shattered the image of the boy I loved. "Stop moving," he hissed, his voice tight. "You're going to hurt yourself."

"Why?" I shrieked, the word raw with betrayal. "Why are you doing this?"

He didn't answer. The silence was deafening, filled only with the frantic thump of my heart. My pleas turned into a desperate mantra. "Why, Tom? Why?!"

He remained silent, his grip tightening a fraction. The pain spurred a fresh wave of fury. I screamed again, clawing at his arm, anything to break free. He finally reacted, hauling me off the ground with surprising ease.

"Let me go!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster!"

"I know, love," he said, the word a cruel mockery on his lips.

"Don't call me that! Let me go!"

Ignoring my pleas, he marched towards the door, his face a stony mask. Panic clawed at my throat. "Tom, don't," I choked out, my voice thick with tears.

Then, the world slammed shut. He yanked open the door and shoved me into a room I didn't recognize, He threw me onto the bed, my breath catching in my throat. But I was up in a flash, scrambling towards the door. "Tom, don't you dare!" I shrieked, my voice choked with tears.

"We will talk," he cut me off, his voice strangely calm considering the storm raging inside me. He reached down, his fingers brushing against mine. I recoiled as if burned.

The click of the lock echoed in the room like a death knell. Panic surged through me. I spun around, scrambling towards the windows, clawing at the latches. They were locked too. A strangled sob escaped my lips. Without my wand, I was trapped.

I slammed my fists against the door, the wood groaning under the impact. "Tom! Open the door!" I screamed, my voice hoarse. "You're a monster! I hate you! I will hate you to the day I die!"

My words echoed in the small room, bouncing off the walls. Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. "Why?" I sobbed, collapsing onto the floor. "Why did you do this to me, Tom? I really loved you."

The silence stretched on, broken only by my ragged breaths and the quiet tick of the clock on the wall. "Tom?" I croaked, my voice barely a whisper. But there was no answer. Just the relentless tick-tock, reminding me of the time slipping away,

Exhaustion eventually won over the battle raging in my heart. Sleep, even in this state of utter betrayal, felt like torture. Perhaps it was the screaming all night, or the relentless pleas I'd choked out until my voice was raw, but I drifted off into a restless slumber.

A feathery touch against my cheek, then a gentle hand combing through my hair, jolted me awake. I flinched back, scrambling away until the wooden bedframe pressed against my back.

"Don't touch me," I spat, pulling my knees to my chest, a fortress against the world – a world that had suddenly turned monstrous.

"Eat," he said, a neutral tone that sent shivers down my spine. There was food on the nightstand, a silent offering.

"I won't eat anything you offer," I spat back, defiance flickering through the haze of hurt. "Let me go."

A beat of silence stretched between us, taut with tension. Then, a single word, laced with a quiet command that sent a fresh wave of tears cascading down my face. "Eat."

The sound of my own sobs filled the room, a stark contrast to his forced composure. "Stop crying," he said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

"I said stop crying!" he say, his voice louder this time. The sound of it shattered whatever fragile hope remained inside me.

But I couldn't stop. Tears blurred my vision, each one a silent scream of betrayal and heartbreak

. He reached out a hand, as if to comfort me, but I flinched away, pushing the tears back with the heels of my hands.

"I got you some clothes . Eat and change," he continued, his tone clipped.

Ignoring the food, I met his gaze with eyes filled with a pain that mirrored the wreckage in my heart. "And don't fucking hurt yourself again,"he spat, his gaze dropping to my hand. A jolt of surprise ran through me. He must have cleaned it sometime in the night.

I hadn't even noticed, or maybe I refused to acknowledge it. Looking across the room, I saw the shattered mirror and a single drop of crimson staining its surface. The realization hit me like a physical blow.

"Why? So you can kill me yourself? Like you did to this poor girl ?" I shouted, the accusation ripping from my throat.

"Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, his eyes hardening. The look in them brought a fresh wave of tears – tears not just of fear, but of a profound sadness.

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Watch your mouth, Y/n," he warned, a dangerous glint in his eyes. The way he spoke to me wasn't just cold, it was cruel.

This couldn't be the same Tom who held me close every chance he got, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world. This wasn't the boy I had loved almost my whole life.

"I look at you and I can't recognize you anymore," I choked out, my voice thick with emotion. "I don't even know who you are now."

He stared at me for a long moment, his face unreadable. Then, in a voice devoid of warmth, he finally spoke."Good," he said simply.

Two days bled into one another, a monotonous blur of misery. He'd stormed out of the room after our confrontation, leaving me alone with the deafening silence and the weight of his betrayal.

Each day followed the same cruel script. He'd reappear, a grim expression etched on his face, carrying a tray of food and fresh clothes. The clothes, once a thoughtful touch, now felt like a cruel mockery. A shower was a brief reprieve, the warm water washing away some of the physical grime, but the emotional scars remained raw and open.

Food sat untouched on the nightstand, the sight turning my stomach. The mere thought of putting anything past my lips filled me with a suffocating dread.

Each night, like clockwork, the anger arrived with him. The sight of the full dishes on the nightstand seemed to ignite a fire in his eyes. His voice, once a source of comfort, now dripped with icy contempt.

"You haven't eaten a single thing," he'd sneer, snatching the plate and tossing it onto the bedside table with a clatter. "Do you think this is a game?"

I'd remain silent, staring at the opposite wall, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

It was a constant reminder of the monster I now shared a room with, the man who wore the face of the boy I loved.

The morning light, harsh and unwelcome, streamed through the barred windows, but Tom was nowhere to be seen. My body ached, a dull throb echoing the pain in my heart. Tears, silent and warm, traced paths down my cheeks. Exhaustion gnawed at me, both physical and emotional.

Then, the sound of the lock clicking. I braced myself for Tom's usual stoicism, the anger simmering just beneath the surface. But it wasn't Tom who entered.

My heart lurched. Standing in the doorway were Avery and Lestrange. Once considered friends, their presence now sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through me. The trust, the camaraderie - shattered like the mirror in the room.

Lestrange approached the bed, his expression unreadable. "What are you doing?" I croaked, the words rough from disuse. He didn't answer, simply gripping my hand with surprising strength.

"Easy now, Y/n," Avery said, a placating tone lacing his voice. But the glint of a dagger in his hand shattered the facade. My eyes widened in horror. "Nothing personal."

Terror clawed at my throat. They were going to kill me. My mind raced, searching for a way out, but my voice came out a weak rasp, "No..."

"See, she understands," Lestrange said, his cold gaze unwavering."You know too much, And you've had enough time to decide. But you didn't."

"Decide what?" My vision blurred with fresh tears. Without Lestrange's support, I would have collapsed.

"To serve the Dark Lord," he replied.

"I... I don't understand," I whimpered, tears blurring my vision.

The Dark Lord? Who was that? My mind was a whirlwind of confusion, but before I could voice the question, Lestrange dragged me from the bed. I tried to fight back, but my body was a leaden weight.

"Sorry, Y/n," Avery muttered, his voice laced with a strange regret.

The Dark Lord? Who was he talking about? But before I could get another word out, a searing pain shot through my wrists as Lestrange twisted them behind my back.

"Get it over with, Avery," Lestrange muttered, a hint of annoyance lacing her voice. "I'm not enjoying this. She was my friend."

"No! No, Avery!" I screamed, my voice raw with terror as I thrashed against their hold. "Don't do this!"

"Just one swift cut, you won't feel a thing," Avery said, his voice cold and detached.

I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the inevitable.A choked sob escaped my lips. This couldn't be happening. Not like this.

But then, a voice ripped through the room, a voice I wouldn't have recognized if not for the flicker of something familiar in its depths.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound. Tom stood between me and Avery, his face a mask of fury. He twisted Avery's wrist with a sickening crack, the dagger clattering to the floor. In a swift movement, he pulled me from Lestrange's grip, holding me close.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice laced with a concern that sent a jolt through me. I shook my head, clinging to him as if my life depended on it. Maybe, in that moment, it did.

"She already knew too much, Tom," Avery whined, cradling his injured hand. "We thought it would be too much for you to do it yourself, so we decided..."

"And you thought wrong," Tom snarled, his voice icy. "You'll pay for this, both of you. Get out of my sight."

Avery and Lestrange exchanged a frightened glance before nodding hastily.

"Yes, my Lord," they chorused, their voices dripping with fear.

Lord? He was their Lord? He's... he's the Dark Lord? The weight of the revelation crashed down on me, shattering the remnants of the Tom I thought I knew.

"He… he called you… my Lord?" My voice trembled as the weight of the revelation crashed down on me.

He carried me gently off the ground, my strength completely gone.my body too weak to protest. I laid my head against his chest .

He settled me back onto the bed, his fingers gently brushing my hair away from my tear-streaked face., "Did they hurt you ,love ?" he asked, his voice soft, his touch a stark contrast to the cold fury I'd witnessed moments ago.

"Please don't hurt me," I stammered, fear still clinging to me like a shroud. "Please, Tom." The name tumbled from my lips, a plea laced with a shred of the hope I desperately wanted to believe in.

His face softened, a flicker of the Tom I knew battling with the darkness lurking in his eyes. "I will never hurt you," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to my raw nerves.

But the words felt hollow. "I don't believe you," I choked out, a sob escaping my lips. "It hurts too much."

He didn't try to deny it. "I know," he whispered, his own voice thick with emotion.

He ignored my resistance when he began feeding me, his touch surprisingly gentle. He even helped me change, discarding the tear-stained shirt for a clean one. But I remained silent, a shell of the girl I once was.

The terror still gnawed at me, manifesting in flinches and skittish glances. Every rustle, every creak of the floorboards sent a jolt of fear through me. The nightmare I'd lived through seemed burned into my memory.

Finally, the silence stretched too thin. "Will you kill me?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. The question hung heavy in the air, a test.

His eyes widened, a flicker of genuine pain crossing his face. "No," he said, his voice firm.

"You lied to me," I accused him, my voice flat with a cold anger.

He didn't argue. "Yes," he conceded.

"You used me," I spat, the words laced with hurt.

"I did," he repeated, his voice barely a whisper.

"You hurt me," I whispered, the words heavy with betrayal.

"You said you loved me," I said, tears welling up in my eyes again.

He met my gaze, his eyes filled with a storm of emotions. "I do," he said, his voice thick with a desperation that tugged at my heartstrings. "I do,"

"I was conceived under a love potion," he admitted, his voice laced with a bitterness I hadn't heard before. "My mother used it on my father. They say that's why I'm incapable of feeling love."

He took my hand, his fingers cool against my skin, and pressed it to his chest. The steady thump of his heartbeat echoed beneath my palm, a powerful counterpoint to the erratic drumbeat in my chest.

"But now it beats," he continued, "For you. Just for you."

His words hung in the air, heavy and unbelievable. A love potion? A life devoid of love?How could this be? Everything I thought I knew about him, about love, was crumbling around me.

Tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision. He'd said he loved me before, a million times, but this was different. This was raw, unfiltered, a torrent of emotion that resonated in the very core of my being.

"And you thought I would hurt you?" he asked. "Kill you? You, the best thing I have ever had, the only thing I truly care about in this stupid world? Y/n, you, my darling, are the only person I love, I didn’t mean a word from what I said I don’t trust anyone enough to show them my weakness, I would burn this world down to a cinder for you."

His words were fierce, possessive, yet laced with a tenderness I'd never known existed within him.

"I'm not lying," he said, his gaze searching my tear-filled eyes. "I was at first. Having you by my side was a strategic move. You're smart, brilliant, innocent, someone I could mold to my cause. But you turned the tables. You, without even trying, made me feel something I never thought possible – love for you. Something they said was impossible. And you know what? losing doesn't feel like defeat. It feels like the greatest victory."

"It’s impossible they say ," he said, a bitter edge to his voice. "But look at me now." He looked down at our hands clasped together, then back up at me, his gaze searching my wet face.

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs, mirroring the beat beneath my hand.

"How can I believe you, Tom?" I finally managed, the question a mere whisper lost in the storm of emotions raging within me.

His gaze softened, the coldness replaced by a desperate vulnerability. He leaned closer, his eyes searching mine. "Because," he murmured, his voice a husky caress, "from this moment on, I'll spend every waking breath proving it."

His lips brushed against mine,he kissed me, softly at first, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle plea. my body relaxing into his touch.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips, seeking entrance. I opened to him, welcoming him inside. He tasted like coffee and mint, and something deeper, something that teased him only him, something that made my heart clench with longing.

He pulled away, his forehead resting against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet room.

" you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ," he whispered, his thumb tracing the curve of my cheek.

I believed him, in that moment, I truly did. I could see the love in his eyes, the sincerity in his words.

He laid me down, his body covering mine. His lips found mine again, his kiss slow, deliberate, as if memorizing every inch of me.

His hands roamed my body, his touch setting my skin on fire. He cupped my breasts, his thumbs brushing my nipples through the fabric of my shirt. I arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping my lips.

He pulled my shirt over my head, his eyes darkening as he took in my bare breasts. He leaned down, his mouth closing around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the hard peak. I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He moved to the other breast, giving it the same attention. His hand moved lower, his fingers finding the waistband of my pants. He looked up at me, his eyes questioning. I nodded, giving him permission.

He pulled my pants down, his eyes taking in my bare legs, my lace panties. He hooked his fingers in the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip.He leaned down, his lips pressing against my inner thigh. "And all mine," he added, his voice full of reverence.

He moved higher, his lips brushing against my core. I gasped, my hips bucking up towards him. He took his time, his tongue exploring every inch of me. I was panting, my fingers clutching at the sheets. He looked up at me, his eyes full of lust. "You taste like heaven," he said, his voice full of pride. He held me down, his hands on my hips, his mouth working me to the brink.

He looked up at me, his eyes filled with desire. "i got you, come for me, my love," he whispered. And I did, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave. I cried out his name, my fingers tangled in his hair. He continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

He moved up my body, his mouth finding mine again. I could taste myself on his lips, and it only made me want him more.

I could feel his hard length pressing against me. He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a condom. He rolled it on, his eyes never leaving mine. He positioned himself at my entrance, his eyes full of love and desire. "Use our safeword if you need to." he whispered, his voice full of promise.

He pushed inside me, filling me completely. I cried out, my nails digging into his back. He started to move, his pace slow and deliberate, I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside me.

He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. I could feel myself getting closer and closer to the edge. He reached down, his fingers finding my clit. He rubbed slow circles, his touch sending me over the edge. “scream my name while you cum” He say , I cried out, my orgasm rushing through me. He thrust into me a few more times before finding his own release.

He collapsed on top of me, his breathing heavy. He rolled off, pulling me into his arms. "I love you," he whispered, his lips pressing against my forehead. "No one will ever hurt you again, not as long as I'm here." His words were laced with a chilling intensity, a darkness I couldn't ignore.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#tom riddle x you #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle imagines #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you