#whats with me and drawing a red eyed character and a blue eyed character next to each other

[baby-im-a-hallucinationnn]

Me: "Oh, I've got all these ideas, I'll write about these."

Jojo's Bizzare Adventure addiction:

Anywho, time to talk about JoJo OCs under the cut that'll happen eventually:

BTW starting at part 3 they all get 1 power cause Goldsboro blood or smth I just wanted to

Part 1: The Sun and the Mask (Don't know how I feel about this title)

Basic background to other parts cause I want a developed character backgrounds cause I swear I wasn't high when I wrote out these characters but it looks like I was

OC: Rebecca "Becca" Goldsboro

Lemme put it this way; if it wasn't 1890 and she knew diddly-squat about the LGBT other than "SIN!" She would be Trans-masc. Jonathan is the only one nice to her too.

Part 2: Roses and Bubbles (I'm working on the title plz leave suggestions cause it sux rn)

Cesear Zeppeli x OC

OC: Rose "Rosy" Goldsboro

Yeah, she just kinda vibin and occasionally saying sus stuff.

Part 3: Lightning (Title also sucks! I'm coming up with them as I write this :D)

Jotaro Kujo x OC

OC: Kasumi "Misty" Goldsboro

Crackhead energy. 1000% crackhead energy. And with a fast af electricity stand called Blue Lightning. Also in a band, cause... why not. Weird power is that she can like see dead ppl in her sleep but like... important to plot ppl. Like her grandfather, Cesear.

Part 4: Angel with the devil's eyes (This one kind of works ig???)

Josuke x OC

OC: Usagi Goldsboro

Crackhead energy 2: Electric Boogaloo. Also will murder anyone who talks shit about her friends on site, but you would never fuckin guess it cause she's got that petite Kawaii girl energy. Her stand is called Pink Thunder and it yells really loud. Her dad works out of country (Italy, hint hint nudge nudge). Weird power is that sometimes she'll just sit down to draw cause she's an artist and she'll draw past events (Bonus: Jotaro saw her just randomly doodling Kakyoin right after he died and that was... and experience.)

Part 5: Red-eyed hacker

Giorno x OC

OC: Georgia Silverthorne

Chaotic Gremlin + Crackhead energy 3: Syrup Village Arc. U totally thought she wasn't a Goldsboro, didn't you? Yes, but actually no. Her mom is Usagi's. She's just raised mostly by her mom who's incredibly abusive and she doesn't know who her dad is. Also it's "Red-eyed" bc everyone else so far and continuing on has bright ass Green eyes and hers are red. Normal eye color is boring. Her stand is called Techno Glitch and it's like normal stand, but it has to be programed by hand from a floating computer cause it sounded cool in my head so I said "yeah that." Weird power is that she sorta sleepwalks into the other 2 living Goldsboro's heads, like Usagi'll be dreaming and the 2 knew each other for a long time cause they have the same mom and stuff and Georgia will go "Ayo, what u dreaming about?" And Usagi will jump like 6 feet in the air.

If you can't tell by the length of that wall of text, she's my favorite

Also I'm skipping part 6 cause Jolyne is literally Kasumi's daughter, we don't need to sweet home Alabama this stuff

Part 7: Oh, to be young again

Johnny Joestar x OC

OC: Lucie "Lucky Lu" Goldsboro

Has that "popular yet still a good person" energy rarely found in my generation, or at least just in my school. Her stand is called Boomerang, and I'll let you figure out what it is. Only thing is that it's a person holding them, not an actual boomerang. Also 110% horse girl energy, but not in a cringy way Her weird power is that she has an insane amount of luck, hence her nickname.

Part 8: Rock n roll all night

Gappy x OC

OC: Rin Kaneko

Crackhead energy 4: Tsuzumi Mansion Arc, mixed with small but noticeable amounts of Undertaker from Black Butler and Hu Tao from Genshin. She just woke up next to Gappy, no memory of the last 2 months, and went "Ima just follow around this dude and help him remember his shit first." Her stand is called Ragged Glory and it's a guitar, but it doesn't just play music if you pull the strings, nonono, it also generates a random effect from a defined list because I only have so many sides on a die, and it's great. Her weird power is that she is well aware of the TimeLine reset in the end of part 6 (The one that left me crying cause all my Husbandos are gone now) and the memories and experiences of our past characters live in her and just surface at random.

I might make one for JoJo lands, depends on how I feel about it, dunno

#jojo's bizarre adventure #Jojo part 1 #Jojo part 2 #Jojo part 3 #Jojo part 4 #Jojo part 5 #Jojo part 7 #Jojo part 8 #Cesear x reader #Cesear Zeppeli x reader #Cesear x OC #jotaro x reader #Jotaro Kujo x reader #Jotaro x OC #Josuke x reader #Josuke Higashikata x reader #Josuke x OC #Giorno x reader #Giorno Giovanna x reader #Giorno x OC #Johnny x reader #Johnny Joestar x reader #Johnny Joestar x OC #Johnny x OC #Gappy x reader #Gappy Higashikata x reader #Gappy x OC #Hallucination word vomit :D

[howlingday]

Tragic backstory (TM) au) classes are going slow for the second years jaune decides to organize some fun for everyone but when some first years crash the party jaune ends up having to put the "prodigies" in their place

(tldr; RWBY and friends are freakishly strong most huntsmen are about as strong as 5 or so Atlas soldiers. Compare that to the characters in RWBY who casually take on armies. So jaune might be the weakest of his friends but he's still in the top 20 fighters in the world. It's all a matter of perspective)

Noob Blood Greenhorn

Change is inevitable. Like the seasons, everything comes and goes, each presenting something unique in their own ways. And yet, there is always some familiarity to the change, dulling the surprise, if only a little. The more things change, the fewer differences you'll notice.

Ruby: Look! It's the first years!

Weiss: Don't point at them, you dolt! They're probably nervous enough as it is.

Nora: Maybe, but if they can't handle the stress, they shouldn't be-

Ren: No pancakes for a whole semester.

Nora: Huh?!

Ren: Oh, sorry, were you saying something?

Yang: A couple of cuties down there, too. You think they're single?

Blake: If they are, you probably shouldn't distract them from their schoolwork. Or yours.

Yang: Aw, c'mon, Blakey! We all gotta destress somehow, right? What's a little canoodling between classes?

Blake: Possible detention.

Weiss: Agreed.

Pyrrha: ...

Ruby: Pyrrha? Are you okay? You've been really quiet.

Pyrrha: Sorry, I'm just... I'm thinking about Jaune. He's been training with Ms. Fall for weeks now, and I'm worried she's being too rough with him. Last night, he came in smelling like a trash fire.

Yang: Yikes...

Pyrrha: I know. I shouldn't get involved, but I can't help but feel-

Yang: No, I mean that dude down there! He's got more muscles than a clam beach!

Weiss: Ugh, you're as bad as your sister.

???: (Blue mohawk and pierced-ear punk, Multiple rings of varying gems on his fingers) Hm? What'd you say, Jay?

Jay: (Long, black haired giant in an open, blue vest, Scar running down his torso, Points up to the balcony)

???: Hubba hubba! Look at those babes! How lucky are we, pal?

Jay: (Grunts)

???: Huh? The one with the highlight? I dunno. She seems kinda flat. Now the brunette with bow? Mm-mm! I'll eat whatever she cooks up!

???: (Red, bowlcut hair military-officer-cadet lookalike, Scoffs) Vas, will you stop drawing attention to yourself, please?

Vas: Can't help it, Commodore Boots! If I see something, I gotta say it!

???: (Scowls) Vas, if you're going to make a scene, can't you do it in a way that makes you look good?

Vas: Sure thing, Fuentes. Let me just flex for my future harem.

Fuentes: (Rolls his eyes) You're a real lady killer, Vas. (Looks behind him) Sir, your orders?

???: (Golden-eyed, strawberry blond man in a long, golden robe with tiled armor on his shoulders, Walks past them) I'm not your commanding officer, Fuentes, and this isn't Atlas. If Vas wants to make himself look like an idiot, then more power to him.

Fuentes: (Salutes) Aye-aye, Captain Shishi!

Shishi: And you don't have to salute me. And don't call me Captain.

Fuentes: Aye-aye, Savage Team Leader Shishi!

Shishi: (Groans) Just stick with Shishi.

Yang: They're so weird.

Blake: Weren't we all?

Weiss: How dare you?!

Nora: Hear that, Ren? You've got a secret admirer! ...Ren?

Ren: (Staring intensely at Team SFVJ)

Ruby: I know what'll cheer you guys up! Let's throw a party tonight!

Pyrrha: I... appreciate the thought, but I don't think our room can handle another party.

Weiss: And I'm not picking up after Nora again!

Ruby: Well, how about the lounge? We're second years, so our curfew is extended to eleven!

Emerald: I'm going to have to dip out on this one. Merc and I have to study for make-up classes. (Thinking) And meet with Cinder later tonight.

Yang: Boo! Lame! But fine, we'll just party without you.

Pyrrha: It won't be the same without you, but maybe next time. Aside from you both, Jaune could also do better with a little fun.

Yang: Who's to say my brother isn't having fun now?

Jaune: I AM NOT HAVING FUN! (Running for his life)

Cinder: IT WAS A RHETORICAL QUESTION, NOW STAND AND FIGHT ME, COWARD! (Launches barrage of fireballs)

Ozpin: (Sips his coffee) Another year, another fresh batch of teams, Glynda. Your thoughts?

Goodwitch: I believe my opinion is best kept to myself, as it was last year, and the year before.

Ozpin: As professional as always, Glynda. Would you like me to tell you my thoughts?

Goodwitch: Again, my input is irrelevant, though I will advise you to maintain professionalism and avoid playing favorites, as I do every year.

Ozpin: (Chuckles, Sips his coffee) ...I ship the two blue ones.

Goodwitch: That's because you have no taste. If you had any sense, you would be able to understand why the burly, stoic giant is perfect for the disciplined and well-mannered gentleman. Now, allow to explain, again, why you fail to understand the tropes and trends that lead to these perfect ships that I have perfectly hand-crafted!

Ozpin: (Smiles, Thinking) Oh, Glynda, you are so easy to tease. Teasy. I'll try to make that a thing in my next body. By the next incarnation, it will be the hottest word since Grimmdip.

Pyrrha: Oh, Jaune, you're back! (Sniffs, Sighs) And you're burnt again.

Jaune: (Weakly grins) Only singed this time.

Pyrrha: Are you tired?

Jaune: (Yawns, Winces and groans as he stretches) More sore than anything.

Pyrrha: Well, if you'd like, I can tell the others you're not feeling well, and we'll cancel our plans for tonight.

Jaune: Plans? What plans?

Pyrrha: Team RWBY is having a get-together in the lounge tonight, and they invited us. Nora and Ren are grabbing the soda right now, but we can stay in tonight.

Jaune: You don't have to wait up on me.

Pyrrha: I don't have to, but I want to. I'm your partner, Jaune. I... I'd do anything to make you happy.

Jaune: Pyrrha... That's so sweet. (Pats her shoulder, Beams) You're a good friend, Pyrrha. You're gonna make some guy the luckiest man in the world some day.

Pyrrha: (Internally breaks) Yes... Some day... (Thinking) Why did he have to be so dense?!

Jaune: I'll go hop in the shower, and then we'll head down. Okay?

Pyrrha: Yes... Of course... (Thinking) One day, Jaune, you'll see the truth, and that truth is that I-

Nora: Love it! We got soda! We got snacks!

Yang: We got music! (Presses play on her scroll)

Yang: (Recorded on scroll) Hey, Yang, it's me, Yang again! Listen, your feelings matter, even if society doesn't approve of you wanting to-

Yang: (Throws her scroll to the ground, Stomps on it for good measure)

Ruby: ...Yang? Do you... want to talk?

Yang: ...No. (Presses play on unharmed scroll, Music plays) Everyone dance.

Ruby: But-

Yang: I SAID DANCE! (Crumps hard with stomping motions, Growling)

Weiss: ...Right. Any word frpm Pyrrha and Jaune?

Blake: They should be coming down soon. Jaune wouldn't miss out on a party with his friends.

Nora: Yeah, especially if we're gonna party all night looooooooong!

Ren: We're only partying until nine.

Nora: All night!

Vas: Well, count us in, babe! (Everyone turns to see Team SFVJ) What's up? Mind if we crash this party?

Ren: I guess. I see nothing wrong with this.

Nora: Call me babe again, though, and I'll crush you!

Vas: Hey, whoa! So aggressive! No need to get hostile, cutie. (Pops chips into his mouth) It's not very lady-like.

Nora: I'll show you lady-like, chip stealer!

Ren: Nora, the refreshments are for the party guests, which these gentlemen are. (Looks to them) Am I mistaken?

Shishi: No, you're right, and we should act like it. Vas, please be on your best behavior.

Vas: (Mumbles with mouth full of chips, Gives thumbs up)

Shishi: Please, forgive him. He can be excitable.

Ren: I understand what you mean. Nora can be the same. Although, the person I'm most concerned about is your friend glaring at me from across the room.

Shishi: Jay? He's just shy. He had a rough life growing up. He's not used to strangers.

Ren: (Nods) I understand. Perhaps I should say hello?

Shishi: That sounds like a wonderful idea. (Ren walks away) ...As to be expected from you.

Weiss: I think I remember you from Bulwark. You were just a grade behind me.

Fuentes: Indeed. I recall your sister visiting to speak with us that day, and you could hardly stop shaking.

Weiss: I can't be blamed, though. If your family visited, what would you do?

Fuentes: I would leave my seat, regardless of who scolded me. Of course, that's if my family visited me.

Weiss: Is yours emotionally distant?

Fuentes: Emotionally, and physically! (Shares a laugh)

Ruby: There's something wrong with you two. (Looks to the dance floor) Oh, Blake and Yang are talking to that blue guy.

Vas: C'mon, babe, just one dance? It won't kill ya~.

Blake: My mortality isn't your biggest concern.

Yang: Yeah, the lady said no, bub. So buzz off!

Vas: Nobody asked you, Gargantua.

Yang: What did you call me?

Vas: Sorry, toots, but I'm not into muscle girls. Maybe try one of those gym rats from that second year team. What was their name? Cordial?

Blake: Cardinal, and if you had half the brains they do-

Vas: Beautiful, I don't need brains. I only need one thing. You want me to show you~?

Blake: (Scoffs, Rolls her eyes) Let's go, Yang.

Yang: (Leaves with Blake) You're a creep, dude! Nothing's cute about it! (Looks to Blake) You good?

Blake: I almost complimented CRDL.

Yang: Yeah. Somehow he's worse.

Blake: At least he isn't discriminatory.

Yang: From the way he was ogle you, I think it's the opposite problem. (Sighs) I think this party's before it could even start. I'm ready to call it a night.

Jaune: Aw, and I just got here.

Yang: Jaune! (Hugs him)

Jaune: Ack! Yang! Did you really miss me?

Yang: Kind of, but I also need a hug.

Jaune: Ngh! Um, could you ease off on the hug a little? It's getting kind of hard to breathe.

Yang: No.

Jaune: Yang? Yang! Ya- ACK!

Yang: (Lets go, Sighs) I'm glad I got that out. Thanks, Jaune. You're the best brother a sister could want. (Eyes slightly widen, Blushes)

Jaune: Uh, no problem, Yang. I mean, I'm not your brother, but-

Nora: Jaune! (Tackles him) You made it!

Jaune: Hi, Nora. How's the party?

Nora: It's the worst! These first years crashed it, and now it's all ruined!

Jaune: Really? (Sees Ren chatting with a blushing giant, Ruby dying of boredom as Weiss gabs with an military officer of some kind, a blue mohawk dude dancing alone) Looks good to me.

Shishi: Same.

Jaune: (Jumps) Wha! Uh, who are you?

Shishi: Shishi Augen, Team SFVJ.

Jaune: Jaune Arc, Team JNPR.

Shishi: Ah, so you're the famous Jaune Arc?

Jaune: Or infamous.

Shishi: (Nods) Perspectives. You have quite the reputation, Jaune. First, you make a fool of Atlas' most powerful man. Next, you explode at a fleeing, rival team for giving up. Then, you dueled the leader of the White Fang, and won. I can't help but wonder what you'll do next.

Jaune: I couldn't say, but if you're looking for an honest answer, I say don't believe everything you hear. Most of the stuff they say about me isn't true.

Shishi: Really? So you didn't do those things I said?

Jaune: No, I did, but people have been guessing my backstory for the past year or so now. None of it is true.

Nora: Jaune, you don't have to run from your past!

Jaune: I'm not running from anything, Nora. I'm just a normal guy, just like everybody else.

Nora: Who's also a king.

Vas: Hm?

Jaune: No.

Nora: And was kidnapped by Sky Pirates.

Fuentes: Huh?

Jaune: No!

Nora: And just escaped the clutches of your evil ex-fiancee!

Jaune: Nora, I- Well, actually, yeah, that is, true. But aside from that, I'm just like everyone else. I'm just Jaune Luna Arc. Nothing more to it!

Jay: ...Luna?

Jaune: Huh? (Turns around, Sees hulking figure towering over him) Ah...

Jay: Luna...

Jaune: Uh, yeah, that's my-

Pyrrha: JAUNE, LOOK OUT!

Jaune: Huh? (Flies backwards as a giant fist comes down on where he was) HUH?!

Jay: Luna! (Flares his nostrils) Luna!

Vas: Easy, Jay-Man! It's just a coincidence!

Jay: LUNA! (Leaps towards Jaune)

Jaune: (Leaps away) Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Easy, man! I don't want to fight you!

Jay: (Removes vest, Stomps towards Jaune)

Blake: Oh no...

Yang: What?

Blake: That tattoo on his back.

Yang: What about it? It kind of looks like a skull in a wheel.

Blake: That's because it is. This man...

Jay: (Fist glows red, Punches Jaune into the wall)

Jaune: (Groans) Good thing I blocked that. (Looks at his sleeves, Shocked) My sleeves are burnt! (Looks up) How the heck did he- (Sees him charging at him) Uh oh...

Jay: (Slams into Jaune, Lifts him overhead) LUNA! DEATH!

Blake: He's a Burns Sun Warrior.

Weiss: A what?!

Fuentes: You have a keen eye, Miss. Jay is from a small surviving Burns tribe. It's unfortunate your friend has the Luna name. Because now...

Jay: (Smashes Jaune over his knee)

Jaune: (Screams)

Pyrrha: (Rushing over) JAUNE!

Yang: Let go of my brother, you son of a-!

Jay: (Snaps to Yang) Luna... (Holds Jaune aloft by an arm) Luna!

Yang: Uh oh...

Jaune: Don't... (Groans) Touch them...

Jay: (Pulls Jaune closer, Growls) Luna?

Jaune: I said... (Aura glows, Grabs Jay's face) Don't touch them!

Jay: (Reels back and drops Jaune, Clutches his bleeding face)

Pyrrha: (Catches Jaune) Are you okay?!

Jaune: (Takes a deep breath, Heals slowly) Yeah, I'm good. (Set on his feet, Flexes his hand) How did I do that, though? It was like-

Yang: Hey, analyze later! You only made him angry!

Jay: Luna! (Stomps towards him)

Shishi: Jay, that's enough! It's almost curfew for us anyways.

Jay: (Snarls at Jaune, Walks away)

Shishi: Sorry for our friend. He's been through a lot.

Nora: I'm about to put you through a lot, you jerk! You almost let my leader die!

Shishi: I could have stopped him, but... eh, I was curious. Wanted to see what makes second years so special. (Chuckles) Have to say, I'm impressed. I can't wait to see what happens next. Fuentes, Vas. Let's go.

Fuentes: Aye-aye, Captain! (Salutes Weiss) Thank you for allowing us to join the festivities. (Walks away)

Weiss: What? But, what about your...

Vas: (Winks at Blake) Later, cutie. Can't wait to see what you can do. (Waves good-bye with a rat tail)

Blake: What is wrong with those guys? Jaune, are you okay?

Jaune: I'm fine. Is everyone else okay?

Ruby: You were just attacked by a guy three times your size. I think you're the only one not okay!

Jaune: I'm fine. I don't get why he just suddenly attacked me, though.

Blake: It's because he thinks you're a member of the Luna tribe.

Jaune: This again?

Blake: Whether it's true or not isn't important. What is important is he thinks you are. He's a Burns tribe Sun Warrior. They were- are a special class of warriors for the Burns tribe. They specialized in total warfare, burning everything, and everyone, with overwhelming firepower. The elite of the elite, in a way. But...

Yang: But...?

Blake: Sun Warriors would go into battle entirely engulfed in flames, their aura igniting around them. Either he doesn't know how to, or he was holding back.

Weiss: Whatever the case, that entire team is dangerous, especially since no one tried to stop him.

Yang: If they even could.

Ren: Their leader could. We saw him do it.

Pyrrha: It might be best to avoid them for now. Focus on training ourselves.

Jaune: Right. Let's clean up and get ready for the weekend. After that crazy fight, I think we all need to wind down. (Looks at his hand) And figure things out.

Cinder: Good, you both are here.

Emerald: Is there a problem, ma'am?

Cinder: Yes. I need you both to do something for me.

Mercury: Alright, Prof. What you got?

Cinder: Starting this weekend, I want you to spy on your teams for me.

Emerald: Spy on them? What do you mean?

Cinder: There is an increase in Grimm activity recently. I think Salem intends to make a move. Therefore, I need you both to report to me anything and everything you find about your teammates. Strengths, weaknesses, abilities, anything that could help us better understand their capabilities, so that Salem can't destroy them in one blow.

Mercury: Couldn't she do that if she wanted to?

Cinder: Yes, (Looks at Jaune's student ranking of 20 of 20, Scowls) and that's what worries me.

Vas: Hey, Jay! You dropped this!

Jay: (Takes vest, Nods)

Vas: No problem, big guy! So, you get that cutie's number?

Jay: (Blushes, Looks away)

Vas: Aw, don't be like that! After the way you thrashed her weakling leader, she's gotta be way into you, right, fellas?

Fuentes: No.

Shishi: I don't think anyone found it attractive.

Vas: C'mon, guys! I'm trying to cheer him up! After all, not all of us can be harem masters like Vas Soder!

Fuentes: You harrassing those girls was an embarrassment to the team. I'll expect a full apology to our three teams.

Vas: Whatever, Commander Buzzkill.

Shishi: Did you at least enjoy yourself, Fuentes?

Fuentes: (Salutes) Sir, I did enjoy myself, sir! (Lowers salute) It was calming to meet a fellow Bulwark graduate.

Shishi: Good, good. I'm glad everyone enjoyed themselves. Tomorrow, though, we should definitely apologize to them. After all, (Looks at the student ranking list) we should respect our betters. (Thinking) Isn't that right, your majesty?

#rwby #rwby au #tragic backstory (tm) au #ruby rose #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #lie ren #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #pyrrha nikos #jaune arc #emerald sustrai #mercury black #ozpin #cinder fall #glynda goodwitch

[wrestlersownmyheart]

The Demon Whisperer (Finn Bálor X Reader)

Pairing: Finn Bálor X Reader Summary: Y/N's close friend, Finn Bálor, feels unusually moody and downright angry after Bray Wyatt dumps a bucket of blood on him after their match. But Y/N knows just the thing to relax him. Disclaimers: I own nothing or anyone associated or affiliated with NXT or WWE. I own only the original characters. This is just a fictional story that came from my imagination. Content Warning: Blood warning, and fluff.

The Demon Whisperer

Having just finished with a degrading diva's bikini photo shoot to promote SummerSlam, I sat down in a folding chair in one of the arena's hallways, and watched Finn Bálor's match against Bray Wyatt as I clipped my hair up into a messy twist.

Finn had become one of my best friends since I debuted with WWE about a year prior. I secretly had the hugest crush on him—actually, I was head over heels in love with him. But he didn't seem all that interested in dating or relationships. I figured he was just completely focused on his career—many of the guys were. But man… When I got to be around him, he'd make me feel so… alive. And happy. Despite his frequent moody spells, thanks to a certain demon that resided inside him.

Finn was absolutely gorgeous. Actually, that would be an understatement. He was breathtaking. And most times he appeared to know it. But other times he seemed rather shy.

His vivid blue eyes would light up and flash when he was happy, but could darken and go black in the next instant—whenever Bálor wanted to make an appearance. Whenever I'd speak to him and he turned to face me… Well, when I had his attention, I most definitely knew I had his attention. He'd focus so intently on me and what I was saying that sometimes manufacturing coherent sentences was near impossible.

Lost in my thoughts of Finn, I became vaguely aware of Bray Wyatt's voice shouting:

"This is what happens when you send a boy to do the devil's work!"

My eyes shot up to the monitors again, and I watched in horror and disgust as Bray made his way over to the corner of the ring where Finn sat, and unceremoniously dumped a bucket of what appeared to be blood, over my Irish friend's head. Immediately, Finn began struggling and flopping around as if the blood was actually hurting him.

My hand darted to my mouth as I gasped. Angry that Bray had done something so vile to my friend, I ran down the hall to the women's locker room and grabbed the biggest towel I could find for Finn, and then headed to gorilla to meet him.

As I rounded a corner, I nearly collided with Bray's chest in my hurry to reach Finn. Recoiling in disgust, I glared at him and muttered, "You are absolutely repulsive. Blood," I asked, eyeing the rusty old bucket he still held in his hand. "Seriously?" I turned to finish my run to gorilla, when I heard Bray cackle pleasantly, and a hand grabbed my wrist.

"Now, what's your hurry, little lamb?" His fake preacher-like drawl sent chills up my spine.

My temper flew past its breaking point and I swung around, connecting my open palm with his face. "Don't freaking touch me!"

Finn suddenly appeared next to me—out of nowhere, it seemed.

"Get away from 'er, ya psycho," he shouted, drawing his fist back at Bray. His eyes flashed between blue and black for a few seconds. He obviously was battling his demon side. Bálor was clawing to get out.

"Finn, no!" I dropped the towel I'd been holding for him, and lunged for his wrist with both my hands—ignoring the sticky red substance coating him—and held on for dear life. "He isn't worth it. Go to Angle and get a rematch scheduled for SummerSlam. After that stunt…" I glared at Bray's grinning figure. "I'm sure Kurt will set it up."

Like clockwork Kurt hurried up to us then, and eyed both Finn and Bray wearily. "Get on out of here, Bray," he said. "You and Finn obviously have unfinished business." He shifted his gaze over to Finn then, and said softly, "Come with me to my office, Finn. We'll have a talk."

"I'm not goin' anywhere till he is gone and away from y/n," Finn nearly shouted, pointing his finger at Bray.

"Don't worry, Finn," Bray taunted. "My beef ain't with your sweetie. It's with you."

I rolled my eyes. He clearly was just trying to anger Finn and get his focus off SummerSlam. However, he finally did turn around and start to walk down the hallway. The building went dark—pitch black—for several seconds and then the lights came back on.

Bray was nowhere to be seen.

Sighing, I bent down and picked up the towel I'd dropped earlier and wiped at Finn's face with it. "Here," I told him gently. "This will have to do until you can get in the shower."

"Come on, Finn," Kurt said again. "Let's go talk."

"Okay," Finn nodded, as he took over the towel, wiping his face and chest. When he was able to see a little more clearly, his sapphire gaze shifted to mine and he scowled at me. "You an' I are goin' t' chat later, lass."

"What? Why? I don't-"

"Ya've no business antagonizin' Wyatt like d'at," he blurted in a heated tone. "He's probably t'ree times y'r size! Do ya know what he could've done t' ya?"

"He didn't do anything, Finn," I said, trying to calm him down. "Just… You need to try and chill out."

"'Chill out'," he repeated, his eyes threatening to go black. "I need t' 'chill out'?"

"Yes," I said, my temper flaring again. "Nothing happened, and you're over-reacting."

"I'm over-reacting?!"

Feeling a headache brewing, I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Finn, seriously. I think you need to go talk to Kurt and get a shower. Then we'll talk. Rationally."

"She's right, Finn," Kurt spoke up. "We'll talk, and then you can get cleaned up. Now, let's go." His tone left no room for argument. Finn finally turned to leave with him, but not before muttering, "You should put some clothes on. Why are ya runnin' around nearly naked, woman?"

"Photo shoot," I uttered, glancing down at my red bikini. Why is he so angry at me, I wondered as he stalked off behind Kurt. What did I do?

"You need to get the demon under control," Alexa Bliss giggled as she walked by. "He's out for blood."

"Why me," I asked. "What can I do about it?"

Alexa stopped and leaned against the wall with me. "Why you? Honey, if you don't know by now that Finn's sweet on you…" She trailed off with a soft chuckle and a flip of her hair. "As for what you can do about it… Heck if I know. Maybe you could cheer Finn up. I mean, it makes sense to me… If Finn's happy, maybe Bálor will calm down."

I sighed. "Maybe you're right. I'll try to think of something. Thanks, Alexa."

"Don't mention it," she smiled, and patted my shoulder. "I'll catch ya later."

"See ya," I returned.

I was already deep in thought. How in the world was I going to help Finn?

Legos!

It came to me instantly. We could go back to the hotel after he showered, and I would get him to build something. It'd get his mind off Wyatt and make him think of home—Ireland. It was a perfect plan!

Minutes later, Finn came down the hall and was still trying to wipe away the drying blood on his skin. I met up with him, and forced a smile to test out his temperament.

He scowled. "Why're ya smilin', woman?"

I shook my head. "No reason. Come on. Let's go get you cleaned up. Then we're gonna do something fun to cheer you up."

"D'ere is no 'let's' when it comes to me cleaning up, lass," he snapped. "I'm getting a shower. Ya can't help me wit' dat."

I could've sworn he blushed.

"Oh, don't be a big baby. I'm in a bathing suit, and you… Well… Keep your trunks on. And I won't ogle you. Deal?" Not giving him a chance to argue, I tugged on his wrist, leading him to the showers. "Besides, there's no way you'll be able to get all that gunk off without some help."

"So ya wanna see me completely naked, eh, beautiful?"

I scoffed. I didn't have to see Finn's eyes to know that Bálor was now present. "Bálor, go away," I ordered as I pushed Finn into the shower room. "This is not about you, believe me. And Finn's not going to be naked anyway. He's gonna wear his trunks."

Surprisingly, Bálor listened to me, because Finn spoke then and I detected some awkwardness in his tone. "Uh, y/n… What if someone walks in here an' sees us?"

Hmmm… He had a point. I looked back at the door to see if it had a lock.

Jackpot. It locked, and it had a "Closed For Cleaning~Come Back In 1 Hour" sign.

"Ah-ha!" I took the sign, briefly showing it to Finn and opened the door. Poking my head out, I made sure no one was around and being nosy. Then I hung the sign on the knob, shut the door and promptly locked it. "Satisfied?"

"I guess dat'll work," he replied, and placed his hands on his hips. "I'm still angry at ya, y/n," he said, changing the subject quite abruptly. I could see he was still fighting the urge to let Bálor loose.

"Get in the shower stall, Finn. We'll talk as you get clean."

"Brón maith," he uttered under his breath as he took off his boots and knee pads.

I couldn't help but ogle him as he got rid of some of his wrestling gear.

Finn's abs had always captivated me, but his thighs were definitely nothing to sneeze at. They were quite luscious, actually. The muscles on this man! How could someone literally have muscle creases in their thighs that flashed all the way up to their rear end? He'd barely move his legs and these sexy lines would appear out of nowhere, blinking at me like a neon sign.

"Ya broke yer promise, lass," Finn said in an odd tone of voice.

My eyes shot up to his face, and I could already feel my face burning like fire. He was watching me as I watched him. His gaze was intense; unreadable.

"S-sorry," I stammered. "I-I… I didn't mean to stare…"

"Like what ya see?"

I groaned as I stepped into the stall with Finn and closed the door. "Seriously, Bálor! Get the heck out of here! And stay out!" I shook my head and sighed, glancing up at Finn as I started the shower water. "How in the world do you have a private conversation with him lurking around?"

"I usually don't," Finn replied, watching me get his shower water ready.

"So…" I nudged him underneath the shower head and got him to tilt his head back so I could wet his hair down and rinse away most of the blood. "How do you date?"

"I haven't dated in…years. I mean, well… Bálor has had his flings, but I… I just never figured out how t' deal wit' a relationship, when he's always buttin' in." He rolled his eyes. "It got pretty awkward—trying to romance a girl. And d'en he'd start flirtin' wit' her because I 'wasn't doin' it right'." He held up his hands and did air quotes.

I reached over to grab some of the 2-in-1 shampoo plus body-wash he had setting on a shelf in the stall, and poured a ton of it into my hands before reaching up and working it through his hair.

"Sounds like 'ol Bálor is a tad jealous, if you ask me," I smiled at him. I saw his eyes flicker between blue and black like a strobe light, and I lost my patience. "Bálor, I swear if you come out again, I'm going to slap the taste right out of your mouth!" I heard a low growl emerge from Finn's lips and I chuckled, shaking my head. "You don't scare me, big boy. You never have, and never will. Leave." Finn's eyes settled with his bright blue sparkle, and I giggled as I tilted his head under the shower head again, to rinse his hair. "He's just a big spoiled baby."

"Ye're da only one he lets get away wit' treatin' him like d'at." He reached up to wipe some water from his eyes. "Anyone else…he'd bite d'eir heads off. Maybe even maim 'em." He looked pensive, as if something had just occurred to him.

I turned him around once his hair was rinsed out, and then poured some more shampoo-slash-body wash onto a washcloth. "Wow, this stuff smells really awesome," I commented, beginning to scrub at his back and trying to wash away the dried blood. I finally reached his lower back and then passed him the washcloth. "Here. You finish up with your chest while I give you a shoulder massage. You're way too tense."

He took over cleaning himself and I gently dug my thumbs into his shoulders and rubbed along the hard muscles of his back, using the soapy lather to help my fingers glide over his skin. He growled again, but this time it was a sound of pleasure. I pressed my thumbs into his spine, gently, but firmly and let them slide down the firm length of his back.

"You need to get yourself a woman who can manhandle that demon of yours." I told him with a chuckle. "A woman who'll put up with him, or put him in his place. If you find someone who can do that, you'll have a real keeper, because Bálor is a complete jackass-"

I cried out softly as Finn spun around and grabbed me. I was shocked to instantly find myself pinned to the tiled wall by his strong body. Shower water rained down on us both, and now I was soaking wet in my bikini. "Bálor, please," I whispered, my heart pounding in my throat. My breath was coming in brief snatches. I became completely aware of what the demon could do to me, if he chose to overpower Finn and fully materialize.

I kept my gaze down, afraid of what I'd see in his eyes. "I'm sorry. I have a big mouth, and it runs a little too freely sometimes. I just-"

Finn's voice was soft when he finally spoke. "D'ere is only one woman I've seen put Bálor in his place, lass. And she's a woman I've wanted from the first moment I saw her."

He didn't say anything else. Until he lifted my chin with his finger, forcing me to look at him. I gasped at the passion I saw burning in his blue eyes.

Bálor wasn't present. It was completely Finn.

"You," he finally whispered, struggling to lose his accent enough to enunciate the word. "It's you, y/n." He moved in even closer, ignoring the spraying water above us. "I love ya." While I stood there in shock, he reached up and unclipped my hair, letting the bulk of it fall to my hips. Within seconds I felt my hair plastering against me. "And ya love me, too," he added confidently.

"H-how do you know that," I asked, completely dazed. It was true, but I'd never told anyone I had feelings for Finn. I'd kept it a secret.

He chuckled slightly and kissed the tip of my nose.

"Ya t'ink Bálor—as powerful as he is—can't read minds, Mo grá?

I felt my mouth gape open. "S-so… you've known how I felt, all this time?"

"Uh-huh."

I couldn't help but smile at the playful tone in his voice.

"Why… Why didn't you say anything to me? Why didn't you ask me out? Why-"

His mouth silenced mine with a soft kiss.

I shivered, despite the hot shower water that drenched us. He slowly pulled away, and looked me in the eye. "It hadn't occurred to me how well ya handle Bálor, love. I was afraid he'd eat ya alive." His sensuous lips curved up in a smile. "But, I t'ink he's actually pretty fond o' ya too."

I smiled back at him. I felt my chest tighten with everything I was feeling. The man I loved, loved me in return. All was right with my world.

"I do love you," I whispered, realizing I hadn't actually told him yet. "More than anything."

His grin broadened at my words. And then he chuckled. The sound rumbled in his chest, and then his lips were on mine again. I sighed into his mouth and melted against him as his strong arms wrapped around me.

THE END

#Finn Balor #Finn Balor Fan Fic #Finn Balor Fanfiction #finn balor x reader #finn balor imagine

[frostironfudge]

Tenebrous - Loki (AU) - Chapter Eleven 

Pairings: Vampire! Professor Loki x Fem!Reader

Characters: Loki, Thor, Fem OC, Reader, Bucky Barnes, Stephen Strange

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, drug consumption mentioned, drug addiction mentioned, anxiety attack mentioned, humkour used as a coping mechanism, witch coven dynamics, vampire coven dynamics, soul bonds, hurt/comfort, canon level violence, blood drinking, blood, mind exploration, fluff, nightmares, john walker is a shit head, mild smutty content (make out), some shitty jokes, MINORS DNI

Word Count: 8.7k

Dividers: @firefly-graphics​

Chapter Ten || Chapter Twelve

Main Masterlist || Fic Masterlist || My AO3

Chapter Eleven - Never Ending List Of Broken Promises

Yesterday Night.

John Walker smiles, his toothy grin. Even as he is bound. Has a few stakes scattered over him and is kept devoid of blood. 

But he smiles at the exposed brick walls and the the east corner where the camera sits focused on him. 

“Father won’t be very pleased, Thor.” John reminds, eyes piercing through the screen.

“Your insubordination stretches beyond keeping me here as prisoner.”  

Thor splinters the wooden desk, he pushes away from the desk houses their security system.

“What’s wrong?” Nia questions, getting up from bed when Thor walks in fuming, yet again. It hadn’t even been three hours since Loki, James and Y/N had dropped off the half staked vampire. 

Ever since Thor first spoke to John he was irked, he could not even filter the ire from Nia.

“He’s still acting like a smug bastard. As if he hasn’t lost.” Thor seethes, Nia prompts him to sit next to her. 

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his arm. Thor sighs, basking in the affection and calm move that through their bond. 

“We’ll get him to spill his secrets.” she assures. 

“I praise your confidence in us.” he smiles at her, softly kissing the bridge of her nose. 

“You’re lucky you have a to be lawyer with you, can get anyone to confess.” Nia does a shimmy to draw more emphasis on her skill.

“Oh like you did during your interning?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes, I can and will.” Nia gleams, Thor moves them so she is sitting across his lap facing him.

“I remember that moment, you looked absolutely badass.” He praises tucking a piece of her hair back. He adored the red she decided to bring into her hair.

“I think you should do it.” Nia speaks and Thor feels the bond push him towards her more. He catches onto what she offers.

“Nia… No, I cannot turn you now.” Thor sighs, “We have a vampire in our basement I cannot be with you through the basics even if I turn you… Please…” 

Nia huffs, standing up but Thor grabs her wrist.

“Never doubt that I do not want forever with you because I do. It is the only thing I have wanted since I knew there was someone for me.” He admits, she looks between his honeyed brown and sea blue eyes, knowing the sincerity that courses through them and the words he speaks.

“Once we deal with John. You need to turn me.” She places a soft kiss upon his wrist, the one he fees her from.

“Baby…” Thor attempts to dispel her request, “What about graduation? What about Y/N?” 

Nia groans, “Thor, Y/N knows about my wish, we spoke about this the minute Loki revealed who he is to her. And I don’t care, I’ll pay the extra fee for an absentee graduation.”

“I’d like to watch you graduate…” Thor toys with a piece of her hair. 

“Thor.”

“Nia.”

“Loki.” Loki adds from the door with a grin.

The couple turn to the green eyed vampire. Who looks much too cheerful for someone, who saw their first date place destroyed.

“I do not want to think of that so please stop thinking of that.” Loki requests from his brother.

“Also I agree on the turning Nia, sooner rather than later.” 

“I knew I liked him.” Nia grins at Loki.

“You hated him.” Her mate narrows his eyes, though his voice is playful.

Loki clutches his heart in feign hurt.

“Hate is a strong word.” Nia defends.

The green eyed vampire chuckles, “The reason I come back is to pick up a few things for James and myself before we leave. Clearly I picked a good time since Nia needed the vote to swing in her favour.”

Nia giggles, “See, he is smart.”

“He’s only agreeing if his mate agrees.” Thor rolls his eyes. 

“True.” Loki agrees without delay, “How is the guest holding up?” 

The brothers exchange a look, Loki’s jaw tightens. 

Nia looks at Thor in worry, palpating the tension rising. The twitch by his eyelid would be his giveaway.

“What is it?” She questions.

“Nia.” Thor uses the warning tone with her, which he would apologise for later. Nia huffs, shifting away and going to the kitchen for water to leave the two brothers to speak.

She peeks at the door the leads down to the vampire cellar. She knows even if John breaks the restraints. He cannot move out due to the weave Bucky built around and anchored. 

Leaving the glass of ice water she pushes the door open as quietly as possible. She swallows at the silence that looms the small hallway.

The darkness is offset by the motion directed lights that glow yellow as she moves to the door that harbours the fucker who screwed with her best friend. And her best friend’s guy best friend. James by extension was her friend as well.

“Yes, take the deep breath to prepare.” John sardonically opens the floor for conversation.

“Thank you, I was thinking your skillset is at stake.” Nia puts on a fake smile, opening the door then shutting it.

“I’m surprised they sent you in without supervision. Grown soft leaning on humans.” The vampire laughs.

“Well, a weak ass, man-child like you do get the unsupervised humans. However fret not, you’re being watched.” Nia grins as the words have John flinch and attempt to move.

She takes a seat opposite to him, the only other chair in the room. It housed emergency stakes under the three open sides. Both Loki and Thor had taught her and Y/N how to utilise them.

“You should watch you tongue in front of the son of Alexander Pierce.” John booms, eyes ebbing to red.

“Oh, which child are you again? fiftieth? sixtieth?” Nia pauses, “Or is the list in the hundreds now?” 

The vampire girths his teeth and Nia feels Thor’s panic. Loki better come through for her. 

“How dare you—,”

“I just did, get over it.” 

John’s jaw drops for a moment then he closes it, why was he allowing himself to react?

“So tell me John Walker, how long was your addiction pre vampirism?” Nia picks a piece of lint from her jeans.

“How do you know that?” John looks bewildered.

—————

“Loki…” Thor looks at his brother then back at the camera, it was stupid to remain here but he was fast enough, to get there.

“I didn’t tell her anything, I haven’t entered his mind yet…” Loki looks between the human and vampire having a conversation, he had his suspicions that Nia may be a gifted vampire, but could that extend to her human frequency?

“I’m going down—,”

“No, look we’ll be there and the weave is in place.” Loki cuts off his brother, Nia had texted him before entering and albeit her move terrifying there was enough protection in place for her.

————

“It isn’t hard? As an addict, they would carry over their addictions to vampirism. Your patterns to replicate and keep falling off the wagon, gee, John. You were in rehab what went wrong?” Nia almost allows herself to have sympathy, addiction was a horrible thing to battle.

“I—, I was turned there…” John admits. 

She nods, “Well, it was not very nice of you to turn my friend into an addict and use my other friend as a pawn.” 

John smiles, “I saw you with her, every party you took her too.”

Nia’s smugness slowly pools in her throat turning into a lump.

“I brushed past her on various grocery runs. You and your mate, always there but never paid full attention to the heartbroken little witch. I had to help her myself.” He speaks condescendingly.

Nia’s fists clench, John cackles.

“Oh, you thought you had a read on me, Ms. Lawyer? Or should I say, Mrs. Odinson? Your blood is mixed with his, Thor is very smart, did he ever tell you about Jane? His one true love? He went to several witches, gifted vampires to return to the moment before father killed her. Just so he’d know if she was his soulmate. Oh, come on now, you think Thor saved himself for you?” John gleams and gloats as Nia’s walls crumble.

“Shut up.” She mutters.

“Oh sweetheart, I haven’t even gotten to the good part yet. Has he been honest about what he was? Or has he had you fooled with his habits? Drinking only donated blood,” He snickers, “Has he told you about New York? Oh he won’t even turn you is it? If you want I will, just get me your little friend, I’m thirsty and she is due to pay me for the little gift I have arranged for her. It’s in my pocket.” John continues to guffaw as Nia rises up, her eyes full of anger, she walks towards him.

“Aw, is the little human going to attack me? Come on don’t me shy, I don’t bite unless you’re into that. Oh you smell like Thor but you have nothing on my little flower. She tastes and smells—,” John groans as Nia twists the stake in his right arm driving it deeper.

“Listen here you little dipshit. Your little daddy? He is not on his way to save you. You’re reckless. Stupid. Egotistical. One little movement and this stake goes into your heart. Then again do you want to die without having your little pills do you? What a sickening death right? No buzz, no thrill.” Nia moves back as the bond signalling Thor is close.

“You little bitch,” The bound vampire’s mouth fills with venom.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Nia leans in, pressing a small button in her jeans, “I can get her tainted blood for you.” 

John’s pupils widen, “But you—,”

“I care for myself above all. I can offer you a deal. Your father would just end her life, you know that right? She’s a witch. I can have her blood for you. If you comply. Think about it, sweetheart.” Nia moves away sitting back and Thor enters.

“John here was telling me about Jane.”

The older vampire pauses in his tracks, “Nia…”

“Soulmates right?” She gives a dry chuckle, clicking the button again, then moving past him and up the stairs as quickly as possible.

“Whats the verdict?” Nia questions the green eyed mate of Y/N.

“I do not know what you said to him the audio died out but, overall I think he may slip up around you.” Loki ponders, “Listen about Jane…” 

“I’ll speak to Thor about it later.” She informs.

“Alright. Just remember, he loves you. A lot more than he could fathom loving someone.” Loki gives her arm a squeeze and then grabs the bag, making his way to the car.

Thor closes the room behind him as he enters.

“Nia… Jane was my past…” he begins to explain but pauses,

“You wanted to tamper time for her. Anyways here is the muting remote,” she tosses it towards him.

“Loki didn’t catch my offer. But we will need that bag of blood next time. To seal the deal with deal with John.” Nia sighs, rubbing her temples.

“Stephen was smart to anticipate it coming in handy.” Thor offers in the unsettling aura that surrounds them.

“He said it was Y/N’s idea. She was saying it while ranting before the last attack when she was forced to consume.” she gnaws at her bottom lip, what if they would need more? 

They could not just ask Y/N to donate.

They would have to come up with a plan.

Twelve and a Half Months Ago. 

“Loki?” Y/N knocks in his door. Smoothing over her skirt. A smile stays upon her lips just two weeks since they did more than just making out. 

Her cheeks are warmed by the blush when Loki opens the door. A serious expression upon his face as he speaks on the phone. 

“Yes, I can understand, I realise—,” Loki is cut off by whoever continues to speak on the phone. He pulls out her seat for her. 

Y/N sits, Loki huffs trying to hide his frustration. 

Something starts annoying Y/N. 

She felt fine five seconds ago?

Loki looks up at her, sensing the bond being influenced by his own emotions. He attempts to calm himself down but the bogus accusations are irking him to no end.

“Dean Lynch, please understand that—,” Loki huffs again, Y/N furrows her eyebrows worried about what is the Dean calling about.

“Professor, I cannot take complaints like this lightly.” Dean Lynch states, “This is a serious accusation you were spotted with a student. Your own student no less.” 

Loki runs a hand down his face, “I assure you, that was a chance meeting between us, it is apparently so that the student’s friend is in a longterm relationship with my brother.” 

Y/N is bewildered and then her phone chimes her reaction stays limited then turns toward dread.

From: Dean Lynch

Subject: Urgent Meeting

Dear Miss Y/L/N,

I request you to kindly meet me at the earliest regarding a matter of sensitive nature. 

I have kept my hours free from 3 P.M. Slot free for you, today. I understand you have only one lecture given your student calendar accessible to us.

Please do not take this lightly.

Thank you.

Looking up at Loki, she turns the phone towards him. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He is going to drain the person responsible dry. The Dean keeps screaming in his ear; he turns the mic off.

“Say you will meet him.” he tells her, sliding the phone back.

Y/N does the needful, his conversation with the Dean ends and Loki leans back in his chair, palms covering his eyes. 

“I’m so sorry, I should have kept better watch…” he apologises, still not meeting her eyes. 

Y/N moves slowly, purpose lacing through her actions. Gently she cupping his face between her hands. 

“It’s okay, Nia and Thor were there too. We can have them come in as well to verify. I could reduce how many times I stop by your office…” She says the last part softly, not wanting to stop seeing him as often as she was able to. 

“I enjoy your company here.” Is all Loki murmurs. 

“I do too, but keeping you having a stable job and me not getting expelled before my masters is necessary for the two of us.” she reminds him. Loki places a kiss to her palms, then guides her hands to his shoulders, pulling her in his lap. 

Y/N attempts to shift but she feels him against her thigh, “Professor, you seem to be very happy to have me in your lap.” 

He smirks, hands trailing along her back, “If I remember correctly, you seem to enjoy being in my lap, little witchling.” his voice dips low, the baritone reverberating through her. 

“Am I not correct?” His lips trail along her neck, pulling at the top she wears to expose her shoulder, to claim her skin with his markings. 

“Loki,” Y/N’s eyes close as his hands move over her hips, her breathing a little more frantic as her hips move against his, feeling him hardening and herself grow wetter. 

“A plea of my name? What is that you desire?” Loki moans against her sternum, as she grinds down harder and the scent of her arousal reaches him. Y/N whimpers at the friction against her, Loki sucks the skin over her collarbone and sternum leaving love-bites for her to find. 

“Loki why am I being summoned again, I just gave you a supply a week ago—, oh, I’m, I apologise—,” The door shuts as quickly as it was barged into. Loki was going to teach Stephen Strange basic etiquette.

Y/N attempts to pull away, Loki keeps her flush against him with a carnal growl that has her keen in response. 

“I apologise, forgot to lock it before well,” Loki sighs, smoothing over her clothes and her hair. He runs his knuckles over her cheek as she looks at him, her lips kiss bitten and oh so inviting. 

“I don’t want to lose you.” Y/N quietly admits, worried what his admission would imply this early on in their relationship.

“You won’t.” He assures her, kissing her once again to seal the promise.

“What about the man? The Dean?” 

“I should have more control.” He looks between those very eyes that have all his attention. He can feel the warmth of her cheeks, he relishes how Y/N feels pressed against him, be it sweet moments or in moments where they would have to control their desires. 

“He is a friend, I trust him, soon enough you will meet him. I wanted to ask you if that would be comfortable. As for the Dean, I will handle it.” Loki assures again.

“I’d like to meet your friends… I hope they like me.” she plays with the button on his shirt, nervousness seeping into her as she glances at the clock. 

“Will you be there? In the meeting?” Y/N questions, not believing she could survive this alone.

“I will be outside. He plans to meet me at three-thirty.” Loki still senses her apprehension and panic. He turns her, to sit sideways across his lap. 

Y/N’s head rests against his chest, hands intertwined with Loki’s own.  

“Love, you trust me, correct?” he ponders, her eyes glazing over; accumulating unshed tears. Y/N only nods not trusting her voice. 

“Then, please trust I will make this go away. I promise you. Then you can come to my office as and when you please. We have a month before your Masters begins, have to make the most of it. We have about three weeks before the creative course ends.” his index finger catches the tear that escapes from the corner of her eye. 

“You promise? I won’t lose you, ever?” Y/N asks of him, Loki knows how much hangs onto the words she is asking. He realises she doesn’t realise the depth of those words, the promise being asked. She doesn’t care how much weight her words hold so early on, she cannot fathom the thought of losing him. 

Even entertaining the stray thought sends this bitter feeling through her and everything starts to hurt. 

Loki watches her carefully, trying to understand why this is affecting him much more than he thought. She was just a human, although bonded to him. This was just, beyond his understanding. 

Why did he want to mend every wound before she was even injured?

Why did he want to wipe her unshed tears?

Why was she his weakness, yet all of his strength came from her being? 

Why was he in love with her so deeply so soon?

Loki pauses his internal conflict. This? Was this love?

He utters her name, laced with emotion, she looks at him. He cradles her face in his hands, she shifts to look up at him. 

The stars surround them, dancing freely across their chest, twinkling in the new light through which Loki saw his emotions, anew. 

“As if I could allow myself to lose you, ever.” He admits meaning every word. He couldn’t lose her. His friend, confidant, his, his mate. His love. 

“Oh, Loki.” Y/N overcome with emotion buries herself in the crook of his neck, his arms wrap around her, keeping her close. 

They stay that way, till the meeting is looming over. Y/N’s stomach swirls harbouring the anxiety, Loki places a soft kiss to her forehead. Then holds the door for her as she leaves to meet the Dean. 

“I will be there fifteen minutes after your meeting begins. I, do not worry yourself my witchling.” He requests and she nods. 

“I’ll try not to, but you know me…” She half heartedly smiles, he half smiles as well.

With a wave, she bids him goodbye and finds herself gulping as she stands outside the office. Dreading even the kind smile of his assistant. 

Dean Lynch has a smile but it doesn’t exude kindness or purpose. Only as a fake pleasantry. 

“Have a seat Ms. Y/L/N. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. The matter at hand is of a severely serious nature. I want you to know this is a safe space and nothing said herein will cause you any trouble.” He explains once she settles into the worn leather chair opposite to him. 

“I understand, Sir. What, um, is the matter?” Trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. Why, why, why did anyone have to rat them out? They made sure to go into the city. 

“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, the thing is,” he produces a piece of photo paper and turns it towards her. 

The photo is from a few days ago, Loki and her are laughing as he wheels the cart. 

“We have reason to suspect you and Professor Loki are seeing each other in a non professional capacity.” There is a small ripple, and another picture is placed, the one from another night, where Nia had decided they would go to the arcade and play games and Loki tagging along with Thor was a lovely surprise. 

“Could I explain to you what is going on in these images? To dispel these worries you have? About me being involved with my Professor?” she looks up at Dean Lynch and he nods encouragingly. 

“So um, my best friend, Nia Bernad-Kahn who studies at the Law school side of the university is dating Mr. Thor Odinson. Who is Professor Loki’s elder brother. I did not know this until she introduced me to her said partner and Thor wanted her to meet his only family in the same meeting.” Y/N feels a bout of confidence, she prays that Loki doesn’t stray from this story. 

“It well, took the two of us by surprise that well, his brother and my best friend are together. Since it would mean nothing we didn’t think anything of it, nor do I visit their home nor does Professor Loki come to mine… that,” Y/N points to the restaurant side of the arcade picture, where the two of them sat on same side looking through one menu, 

“Thor invited the Professor out, and neither of us knew because it was a last minute plan and well being a Saturday, the place was packed and they only gave two menus, I can understand why that may implicate things to be not what they are in actuality.” 

The Dean takes a deep breath, then slowly exhales. 

“Miss Y/L/N, you’re a bright student, I have seen your assignments and I know you are remaining a part of the university for two more years. However, Professor Loki has been with us for so long, and none of the students have ever accused him of misconduct, I do not want you to be a victim of a manipulative man. If it proven that he is one.” He looks over her, his gaze softened and tone respectful. 

“Sir, Professor Loki has been very cordial and has not allowed the fact that I am his brother’s girlfriend’s best friend to impact his judgement or to try and manipulate me for any sort of favours to be granted. I would never allow that and nor would he ever try something like that, yes sometimes we run into each other at the only good supermarket in the area, and exchange pleasantries but beyond that there is nothing between us. I understand the cause for concern but I assure you, there is nothing there.” Y/N looks at him, sincerely stating her side of things. Desperate not to lose Loki or her to be career. 

Loki sits outside his hearing allowing him to be a part of the ongoing conversation, he was proud that she was able to keep her confidence and not allow her voice to waver. 

“Alright, I will be speaking to your Professor on the same matter in about ten minutes. If you would like to join— no you will not be joining in that meeting.” 

Y/N tilts her head, confused by the sudden mechanical change in his demeanour. 

“Um, Sir, if you want me to—,”

“Ms. Y/L/N, please, you’ve said enough already; I apologise for the duress this must have caused, I however, must honour the complaints that are brought to my attention. You may leave.” He uses the same mechanical voice and Y/N bids him good bye. 

Outside she finds Loki sitting in the chair waiting for his turn. He had put his blazer back on and all her mind could conjure was the way they were in his office. 

Loki smirks at her, as if he knows exactly what she is thinking. 

“Good Afternoon, Miss Y/L/N.” He greets, the smirk turns into a warm smile, the very smile only she received from him. 

“G-good Afternoon, Professor.” She greets back, “I’ll um see you in class tomorrow.”

“I look forward to it.” He rises as the Dean’s assistant walks up-to them to allow Loki inside. 

“Professor you may join the Dean.” They say pleasantly, then return to their seat.  

“I’ve got it covered.” He says softly, assuring her once more. 

“Thank you.” Y/N wants to hold his hand or some form of physical contact. 

As though Loki can read her mind, when he turns to move towards the office door, innocently he allows his fingers to brush over the back of her hand. 

“Need it for good luck.” He has a charming grin on his face, entering into the office and Y/N turns to leave. 

At exactly four fifteen, Loki entered her home with purpose. 

Nia let him in as Y/N was cooped up in preparation for the masters that was to come. 

The knock on her bedroom door drew her out of the endlessly mundane thesis topics she could think about, opening the door to an eager Loki is not what she expected but it was a welcome sight for her sore eyes. 

Loki wraps his arm around her, pulling her close, he cups her cheek leaning towards her. Y/N loses herself in the kiss, clinging onto him, her fingers tangled in his hair as the kiss moves from full of emotion to want and into need.

He moves them into her room, closing the door behind him. Y/N is lifted up by him, legs wrapping around Loki’s waist, a soft sound escapes her mouth as she realises he carries and moves her with such ease. 

Loki hums, pleased at the sounds she makes just by his actions. 

When he feels her pulling away for breathing, he pretends to pant too. His nose brushing along her neck as he grounds himself with her scent. This is why he needed to feed more than usual so he wouldn’t trigger her response to allow him to feed from her. 

He couldn’t tell her yet. 

“I take the meeting went well.” She says wryly. Her fingers still brushing through his hair. Loki’s chuckle soothes the heat of her skin as he exhales. 

“He won’t be bothering us.” Loki affirms. 

“What did you hypnotise him?” Y/N laughs at the absurdity. 

He pulls away looking up at her, “What if I did? What if I told you you’re an accomplice to the crime of hypnotising the Dean?” 

His tone is light but something in the way he asks weighs the words down. 

“Then I would say that next time don’t make him sound so mechanical in speaking and thank you, for keeping your promise and that I won’t tell anyone, its our secret.” She kisses his cheek, Loki feels himself break open, as if the walls he had been building start crumbling all around him for her. 

He kisses her again, this time pouring so much emotion into his actions that it brings tears to her eyes. 

He rests his forehead against hers. His eyes peering into her own. 

“I cannot allow myself to lose you, ever.” He repeats, sealing the promise once again against her lips with his own.

Five Months Ago. 

“Loki, please don’t say what I think you are going to say.” Y/N begs of him, how does she have more tears in her eyes she thought it all would have dried up by now. 

How did a dinner to celebrate her presentation turn into an argument and now into what would effectively break her heart?

“Not to say it? Why? To spare your feelings? To spare your heart?” Loki seethes turning back to face her in his room. 

“I, I thought we are soulmates—,”

“Don’t bring baseless fairytales into this. So what I told you about soulmates? Have we bonded? No.” he sneers.

“You wanted to—,” she tried again. 

“When will it get through your head? I do not want you. Fuck, I’ve been dying to say it for weeks, you are a human, you cannot be with me. I do not care if you are my soulmate handcrafted for me.” Loki repeats and each word gets branded onto her weak little human heart. 

Her mind blanks as her past weeks with him repeat over, was every touch every kiss a lie? A ruse to just have his actual intentions masked?

The bond tugs harshly and the stars quiver in fear of what is happening. 

“I love you.” It’s a pitiful reason to ask him not to go, not to break her heart into two.

“You love the idea of me, from those stupid books, where the vampire choses the human. Well I don’t choose you, human.” Loki turns back to cover the wince that graces his face. The bond is being broken into pieces by his actions. He wants to go on his knees and grovel for her forgiveness to take back these words that taste as if acid upon his tongue. 

“Loki, please, why? If I’m not enough then, then you can turn me, I, we, please, look at me.” Y/N beds as she tugs on his arm, he does not move. 

“I do not want you, in mortality or immortality. I just wanted to know if my mate was there or not and what it felt like.” Loki pulls his arm away from her, crossing them behind his back so he wouldn’t dare to pull her in an embrace of wipe away her tears. 

“Please tell me you’re lying.” she begs him.

I wish I could tell you the truth. 

“Please, we, we can figure it out, together.” the desperation in her voice kills him.

I wish I could tell you about the darkness that looms over us.

“Please, Loki, you me promised forever.” 

I still will give you forever. If only I keep you safe from who is to come. 

“Forever?” Loki laughs, mockingly. 

Then it is silent for a few moments apart from the sniffles from Y/N that are a dagger to his heart that held her. 

“I was human once,” he turns to face her, still keeping distance. 

“Are you aware of what you humans do?” He pauses to gauge her response, when she says nothing he moves closer to her. 

“You humans make false promises, confess love from the highest points and then sink each other to the lowest of lows.” Loki cups her cheek, the action now tainted from loving to breaking as her mind begins to detach itself from Loki. Even if her heart harbours him. 

“Sweet, gullible human, when I made those promises, it was the flimsy little human in me. You mean nothing. It was fun while it lasted I suggest you view it in a similar manner. For now, it is best you run along home. I do not want to see you again.” Loki moves away, where his palm was once now ice cold. 

Y/N turns, rushing to the door, clumsily grabbing her purse and she moves downstairs. 

“Y/N, are you, alright?” Thor’s voice stops her, as if his hearing hadn’t made him an audience already. 

She wipes her tears then turning to face him. 

“I think you heard what happened. I would like to tell Nia myself, please grant me that much.” Y/N looks at Thor and he nods. 

“I’m sorry.” He says but it falls on unhearing ears. 

For only Loki’s words play on a loop. 

Settled into the car she wipes the tears away as the ignition is on their fight or break up rather had been a back and forth for over an hour. Backing out of the driveway Y/N has no destination in mind not even home. 

She moves through the known lanes and just allows her mind to function on auto pilot as her vision keeps blurring by the tears. 

Loki moves along her route, watching from the forest cover. The bond forcing him to fix what he ruined. 

Y/N feels this pressure on her chest, weight down, begging her to turn. It is well past midnight. She can’t go back. Not after her meaning nothing to him.

If she was worthy of affection or love people would stay. People would remain in her life and not leave her or push her out in ways that would crack her heart and scar her memories. 

She moves the car off road on the shoulder when the pressure on her chest turns into a searing pain. The tires squeal and create skid marks at the sudden change. Loki hunches over watching; his own chest is on fire. Wanting to burn everything in its wake just so she could survive. Just so he could have her. 

Y/N breaks apart into sobs that wreck her being. 

“He was telling the truth. If we were bonded, he would have been in as much pain as I am, didn’t even flinch, didn’t even try to—,” Her verbal train of thought ceases, as her phone begins to ring Nia’s face covers her screen. 

She picks up, trying to keep her sobs quiet. 

“Thor told me. Where are you, send me the location. I’ll come and pick you up, don’t drive.” Her best friend assures her, “You don’t have to talk, just put me on speaker and send me the location okay?” 

She follows through as Nia rambles about nothing in particular.

“Alright I have the location, do you want me to be on the line?” 

“I lost him.” Is all Y/N says.

“Oh baby, I’m sorry so so sorry.” Nia gets into Thor’s car he would drive her till Y/N’s car and then would retreat. 

“I lost him, I lost the love of my life. Nia, I, I can’t, I can’t breathe.” Y/N only breaks into a heaving sob letting go of the phone. The heartbreak triggering an anxiety response. 

“He’s g-gone and I can’t do any-anything to make him s-stay. He doesn’t wan-want, me.”

Loki breaks the nearest tree knowing there is nothing he can do, he cannot even rush to comfort her.  

“Listen, Y/N, please please do not go down that rabbit hole, stay afloat I know you can.” Nia coaxes. 

“He didn’t want me enough to stay.” 

“Don’t—don’t think about him. Not now.” 

“Nia he said so many awful things, I—I was going to introduce him to the faculty at that event. To Emery. If Bucky was here, him too.”

“Well Bucky already knew him.” Nia points out. 

“Bucky also left me, what the fuck.” Y/N suddenly lets out a humourless laugh at the absurdity.

“Are you going to make a joke to cope?” Nia exasperatedly sighs. 

“I mean, either I have some kind of curse or I’m just supposed to give up on the world. Imagine if I could tell Bucky, hey here is a ye old being and he can give you information from history, and guess what vampires are real! He’s a history buff he’ll have a field day. PhD right there.” Y/N giggles amongst the chaos inside her.  

There is a knock on her window and Nia waves at her. 

Thor watches his brother from the car, quietly Loki gets inside the vehicle. 

Y/N clambers over to the passenger side and before the cars begin to head home Nia pulls her in for a hug. 

Thor and Loki keep watch from their car. 

“Is it severed?” Thor questions in regards to the bond. 

“Yes.” Loki lies, he’d weaken their bond but not allow it to break. 

“Very well then, seven months later I shall see you, brother.” He pats his younger brother’s back, “I’ll keep watch. You can attempt to rebuild then.” 

Loki only sombrely gazes at the one who owns his heart, Y/N. 

Present.

Miles was going to cry. Sierra was already wiping her tears and Miles was just trying to keep it together. Clark had taken James Barnes to the next room to speak in private.

James had revealed to them that his coven was eliminated. In the most horrific of manners. Y/N sat near Miles holding his hand to offer her comfort and Sierra excused herself to wash her face. 

After the frantic day at university Y/N had hoped to find some calm, but it was quickly apparent that when you have a big bad vampire on the loose and his favourite unstable drugs-mixed-with-human-blood loving son. You cannot really ask for calm.

Y/N thinks over the small spell she read in her grandmother’s grimoire. To calm distress or just feel wrapped up in a warm loving embrace. The way Miles is deflated against her carrying the trauma of seeing his own coven end and also the horrifying ordeal of Bucky’s own coven. She feels this warrants that spell.

She begins to trace the sigil into the ceiling with her eyes, bringing it to visualisation and fuelling it with intent. Asking the moon to assist with her guiding light and the spirit of lavender to embrace in the warmth those who need the embrace. 

“Are you doing a spell?” Miles inquires and then shifts a contented smile on his face as he feels the warm embrace of his father surround him.

Sierra looks in the mirror and pauses as she feels her aunt wrap her love around her. Pulling her in for her trademark bear hugs. 

“I know in this fight you will be representing your own coven. Since you fight for them. I want to extend to you the offer that you may join our coven, once this fight ends. Your legacy may still be carried forward as a member of the celestial, James.” Clark placings a hand on his shoulder.

“I, could I have time to think please?” James requests.

Clark nods, then furrows his brows as he feels his sister hug him tightly.

Bucky is about to go into attack mode but then he feels Gramma’s warm embrace and is almost moved to tears as he allows himself to bask in it.

Y/N sits with a smile on her face as she feels the love everyone is experiencing. Her heart warms at the comfort she could provide.

Slowly the spell recedes when they warlocks and witch want to pull away from the embraces. They all join in back in the living room.

“Did you do that?” Clark questions, she pales thinking he is going to tell her off.

“Yes, everyone was feeling well… It was hard for everyone.. so I thought…” Y/N bit her lip, he held an expression that said he was going to tell her off. Why wouldn’t he? She was wasting magick.

“You did well. Holding it till we wanted to pull away. Thank you.” Clark gives her a nod of approval. Y/N wants to squeal but keeps her composure she looks at Bucky and he gives her this deeply happy grin, “Good going, Poetess.” 

“Now onto business.” Clark takes his designated seat and Miles joins in next to him leaving the couch free as Sierra choses to sit on the bean bag.

Bucky settles in next to Y/N as Clark and Miles begin to discuss what points have to be on the agenda.

“Who did you feel?” Bucky whispers his question, Y/N responds with a tightlipped smile. 

“No one…”

The smile from Bucky’s lips turns to a frown, “What, why?” 

She only shrugs in response, “I don’t know, I think I wanted the spell to help you all more than myself.” 

“Y/N,” The warlock feels his throat constrict, why did she always deny herself good things?

“Alright, so Loki texted me about merged nightmares.” Miles speaks, and their conversation is cut short.

“He texted you?” Y/N sighs, she didn’t want this out in the open and Bucky and her were going to handle it.

“We are working on it.” Bucky affirms.

“He said you both would play it off.” Miles gives them a pointed look.

“Take us through the removal of the compliance again.” Clark requests, both of them sigh.

“Ya’ll are acting like baby witches and warlocks.” Sierra complaints at their reluctance.

“She is a baby witch.” Bucky counters.

“You’re no older than I am.” Y/N swats his arm lightly. 

“Still I am older.” he retorts.

“Miles…” Clark trails off.

“I want to adopt them.” Miles gives the two bickering friends a look of adoration.

“Miles we cannot adopt them.” Clark covers his face.

“Yes because you already adopted me.” Sierra reminds, laughing.

“I can get more children if I want to,” Miles reminds.

“Miles…” Clark sighs, but looks at his husband in adoration.

“Clark.” Miles pleads

“Fine we’ll adopt them too.” Clark gives in.

“I don’t want siblings.” Sierra chimes.

“Sierra, be a good elder sister.” Miles chastises, she rolls her eyes laughing.

Y/N and Bucky continue to tease each other till Clark draws their attention back to the matters at hand, laying out a plan to entrap John to allow him to slip up.

“I have an idea but the soulmate may disagree.” Sierra opens up her notebook.

“I’ll convince him, provided it is approved.” The baby witch looks at her coven, including Bucky, who nods in encouragement.

———-

After a few hours they meet on the living room floor of the manor of the vampire brothers. Stephen accompanies them but is smiling down at his phone. John last was looking dazed through the cameras, four days without blood. Without drugs.

Waiting for Y/N to bleed for him had backfired.

“Is that Emery?” Y/N questions her head of department. 

“What? No— Why?” He fumbles putting the phone back. 

“It is them, isn’t it?” she grins at him, Stephen only gives her a small smile.

“They do have a crush on you, I think you are aware of that, I know other constraints exist despite the obvious one of vampire-human, the whole head of department and student thing. I, I hope you know not to lead them on, because department head or not, Doctor Strange I will vampire weave you if you hurt, them.” Y/N warns and Stephen only smiles in response.

She gives him a confused look.

“Emery is someone I do see myself with, I am panromantic and demisexual. So when the correct time comes I will ask them, I do not want to pressure them or imply anything untoward, they need space for their journey and I’m only happy to be someone they trust, and I am also happy they have you.” He explains and then is surprised when she hugs him. Stephen returns the gesture.

She pulls away, “Sorry I just, thank you for sharing, I hope I didn’t push you to come out to me, I just want them happy. You’re right they need space but I would also suggest not to let them misinterpret things or actions…” 

“I understand. You didn’t, I’ve felt this even before my immortal life, I will be telling Emery as well, when the time comes to share.”

“I am glad they have you as well.” Y/N sincerely states.

Stephen only smiles, Loki comes u behind her, placing a kiss to her temple.

“Playing matchmaker?” He teases and gives Stephen a nod in greeting.

“She is quite skilled at matchmaking I must say.” Stephen smiles warmly.

“I pushed Nia to get the gym membership too.” Y/N grins, Loki smiles down at her, the stars float around him and he keeps her closer.

“If I may have your attention.” Clark calls for everyone in attendance to face him.

Thor and Nia sit in the love seat, Stephen ops to sit on the sofa, Bucky joins in next to him, Miles takes the seat next to Bucky and Sierra sits next to him.

The L of the sofa is free for Loki and Y/N and they take their places as well.

“So, the reason we meet is one goal, have John spit out whatever he knows. If it comes down to it, we will have him die. We can blame another falsified coven since we cannot reveal Luna saved us.” Clark, looks at Y/N, then Sierra, Bucky and Miles.

“We have an idea to move the plan forward.” The high priest states, the vampires wait, Loki looks down at his hand intertwined with Y/N, who gives a squeeze.

Loki’s eyebrows furrow when he feels her nervousness seep across the bond.

“Please don’t dismiss it.” Y/N requests him and maybe the rest.

“We enter John’s mind with an illusion and Y/N, we allow him to think he won but we’re calling the shots. When he drinks from her we allow her blood to be exposed so he finds it believable.” Clark pauses briefly and Loki’s grip tightens.

“We have been informed her drugged blood is preserved.” 

All gazes turn to Stephen who keeps his expression neutral.

“Yes, I have two pints.” The Doctor confirms. Not meeting Loki’ s hard gaze.

“Will it be enough?” Nia questions.

“We can make more…” Y/N quietly adds, and a loud chorus of no resounds through the room.

Stephen exhales sharply, “I can manipulate it out side of her body.”

“No.” Loki says with a tone of finality.

“No for the blood or for the plan?” His mate questions.

“No, I am not putting you in front of John.” Loki instructs her.

“I can delve into his mind.” Loki informs the crowd.

“He is smarter, has been trained.” Bucky adds, “They have trained him against certain powers of vampires.”

“Not mine, if Zemo has trained him, his powers have a different essence to mine.” The green eyed vampire explains.

“Loki,” Thor’s voice draws attention.

“Thor do not.” Loki warns.

“It tips in their favour.” The elder brother says, referring to his ability to know when something may go in his favour.

“Thor, please this is madness, brother.” Loki runs a hand through his hair, “Fine add me to the mix, I will go in as well, weaken his defences further so the plan may work better.” 

Thor purses his lips, brown and blue eyes twinkling with delight as the plan does have more favourable outcomes than the previous one.

“It holds more favour than just the coven.” The elder vampire informs.

“All in favour?” Clark questions, raising his hand, followed by all of the crowd. A clear affirmation to the plan.

Y/N swallows, severity of the situation coming into further light.

“I can get you in,” Bucky tells Loki, “from there it is your show to run to weaken and then they can go in.” 

Loki nods, “I’ll weaken and when the distraction is in place will try to extract memories.”

“Stephen and I will be on physical pining down duty.” Thor announces and Stephen nods.

“I’ll need another donation from you however.” The Doctor looks at Y/N. 

“When?” She questions, wanting to get it over with sooner.

“I’ll get my kit.” Stephen heads out to his car.

“He’s something isn’t he?” Sierra comments. Bucky shrugs in response.

“Clark and I will be controlling Y/N’s movements inside, Sierra and Bucky will hold down the weave.” Miles concludes the roles of everyone.

Stephen returns, “Where should—,”

“My room.” Loki presses and Stephen blurs out of view.

“Gonna go make a snack.” Y/N laughs but no one joins in, “geez, tough crowd.” 

“Y/N.” Nia groans finally catching on, “Please that was horrible.”

“It is top tier comedy, I’ve got another one, guess who is on the illegal narcotics list.”

Bucky covers his face and huffs out a laugh.

Loki shakes his head.

“I just need a street name.” Y/N chuckles, Loki takes her hand leading her to his room.

When they reach his door, he pauses, turning to face her.

“If you are in his mind while I extract, things might be shown to you. If you are triggered you will retreat. Promise me.” 

“I will.” She assures as they then enter for Stephen to so his thing.

———-

The next four hours as the weave is set up and Bucky places the first of the descent for Loki, who weakens John’s walls and as Y/N appears in his mind John stops thrashing in Thor and Stephen’s hold.

“Oh sweet flower.” John cradles her face.

“Why have they cleaned you up?” John pouts, Y/N closes her eyes as he shifts her, titling her head to scent her neck.

“I have a surprise for you, I told your friend it is in my pocket. I want to show Loki what I did to you in the forest.” 

Her eyes open in panic, John’s mouth covers hers and she finds the taste of the pills more bitter on her tongue.

“How about we relive that moment? Hmm? I mean Loki is sifting through my memories.” John gleams as Y/N pales.

“Oh you thought I wouldn’t learn to counter your mate and his magic tricks?” 

“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” Miles returns, “John knows it’s a trap. He is repeating the forest, what happened?” 

“Get her out.” Nia bellows, “The forest is her worst trigger. She—, it just get her out.” 

Loki steps into the centre, eyeing John holding his mate.

“How nice of you to join my flower and I.” John gleams, tracing his index finger over her face. Y/N shifts, whimpering when he tightens the grip on her hair.

“Do we show Loki?” He rhetorically questions having already decided.

“John please,”

“Oh she knows how to beg so sweetly, you know sweet flower, I took away another thing from you, via James, and then I took the memory from James as well.” John laughs, “ Stay there, Loki unless you want her blood spilled.”

Loki steps back, eyes red rimmed, his extraction work was still ongoing. He kept himself here for keeping Y/N safe.

“In one minute, you two are going to be out of my head, and the witch who cast the spell is going to undo it. So I hope you enjoy tonight’s sleep, sweet flower and my favourite warlock James.” 

Y/N’s stomach churns, what about that night does she not remember? It already was etched into her mind.

“Oh sweet flower, sleep well tonight.” He presses his lips to her neck and Y/N whimpers as she is thrown toward Loki, they retreat from Johns mind. 

Thor and Stephen place the daggers back again, all of them exit the basement. Stephen closely watches Y/N and James. Searching for signs of stress or otherwise.

The two of them stay silent. James’s heartbeat moves paces, the clock shows four a.m. 

Sleep wouldn’t be an option even if they tried the way John warned them the nightmare would be a shared one, despite the unlinking spell performed by Sierra.

Y/N worries her bottom lip, as she realises inevitably Loki will be pulled into the nightmare she wanted to keep from him.

“If it triggered you, you were supposed to leave.” Loki grabs her hand to emphasise the reminder.

Y/N glares at him, despite the worry she knows he harbours for the two of them.

“There have been enough broken promises between us, what is another?” She pulls her hand away from his grabbing Bucky’s outstretched hand as they move to the balcony on the second floor.

Loki stands there at the last step, hand devoid of her warmth. 

-x-x-x-

taglist open! just comment below to be added!

tagging: @camerons-specialinterest @stevesmewmew@pandaxnienke

#vampire loki #loki x reader #loki laufesyon x reader #loki odinson x reader #mcu fanfic #mcu loki #loki x you #loki odinson #loki loki loki #loki is a sweetheart #loki is a little shit #vampire loki x reader #loki au #loki alternate universe #loki laufeyson x y/n #loki laufeyson #thor x oc #vampire thor #helmut zemo #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #loki x soulmate #soulmate au #soulmate loki #loki series #loki disney+ #loki smut #loki smile

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 5, page 20

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. “look, i’ll show you what to do and then we can split up and ask questions. just act natural, we got this” jade says to lewis, putting a hand on his shoulder. the scene changes to show a group of other patrons, the group of 4 that was sitting on couches in a corner. “it’s a fucking sandwich! it counts!” exclaims a person with pink hair and an eye patch, in a regular speech bubble, pointing towards a man across them with a leather jacket. “no! by definition a sandwich has to include TWO pieces of BREAD- huh?” replies  the man, who looks up confused as his words are now in a floating blue subtitle above his head. the group of 4 are all in their early twenties sitting on two different obnoxiously bright yellow couches with a wood coffee table with drinks and bright yellow coasters. on the left couch is a shorter black woman with dark skin, purple eyes with star pupils, and dark purple hair tied back with a bright blue ribbon, wearing a purple skirt and black turtleneck. shes lying her head on the shoulder of the pink haired person, smiling up at him, and holding her drink. the pink haired person has light skin, shoulder length dark pink hair and eye, and many thin scars around her eyepatch. they have a light pink hoodie and striped shirt and angrily pointing faer finger. on the couch on the other side of the corner, a woman in a blue hijab smiles back and watches the argument. she has brown skin and silver eyes, and dark blue eyebrows. she has a blue t shirt worn over a white shirt, and theres a dark red rose brooch on her hijab. next to her is a blue cane resting on the couch and at the table is a orange juicebox with a cocktail umbrella next to the straw. next to her is the leather jacket man who has both fists on the table. he’s an east asian man with blue eyes and hair thats darker on the sides. he has a blue-grey shirt and has 3 gold pins on his jacket: a star, moon, and clock. “hey! hope i’m not interupting date night!” jade appears giving a freidnly smile, and waving one hand with the other in her pocket. lewis stands next to her, looking defensive with his arms crossed. “we’d like to ask you a few questions about something we’re looking into” she continues. end id]

happy ace week from me, your faveourite ace comic creator! well, even if i’m not your faveourite, a bitch can dream, yeah?

some trivia:

to lewis, “act natural” is just him being instantly distrustful of most people

the background drawings are catgirl arson, my dnd character in a dress, part of a poster i made for my baby cousin (the one mostly hidden by subtitle kangaroo), a photo i took of a tree, and im sorry to say, but the last is a doodle i did when among us was popular and i made among us sonas (for crewmate and imposter) and thats them both. i slapped it on a random painting in the background as filler that i never filled not realising that it would be on full view this scene. anyway this is why we plan ahead

pink hair doesnt have any immunity to subtitles, jade and lewis only showed up halfway through that panel and i didnt want to draw more panels than nessecery

apparently my notes say that stardust (the star eyed one) is also ace. nice! also, i put her down as ‘shorter’ but she’s actually 5′8. so just short compared to the rest of the polycule, who from left to right are 6′1, 6′3, and 6′0.

#someone always cares #sac #webcomic #webcomics #ace week #theres more trivia but anyway its 1am #googd thing im not at work this week lol

[vulomkaaz]

I wanted to draw a scene that happens a bit later on in the story. Also one I was just writing out because a character who I've recently renamed appears in it and I needed to get used to their new name

You know when the hero is forced to work with the villain? Love it when that happens

#whats with me and drawing a red eyed character and a blue eyed character next to each other #dont ask where crow gets that scar i think it counts as spoilers #azure corvids #vulomkaaz ocs #vulomkaaz ocs bleu #vulomkaaz ocs crow #art #digital art #artist #digital artist #oc #original character #oc art #original character art #ibispaintx

[shokobuns]

“𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐛𝐫𝐨?”

your irritating step brother likes to come in your room during your zoom classes.

PAIRING: stepbro!gojo satoru x f!reader

GENRE(S): smut, quarantine!au (au? LMAO), college!au, taboo

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNING(S): darkish, smut, drug use (weed), high sex, stepcest, taboo, slight dubcon, slight manipulation, exhibitionism (if you squint), sensory deprivation (blindfold), degradation, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), squirting, dacryphilia (if you squint)

(A/N): this rly do be my first time using proper capitalization huh, anyways all characters, SORRY I FORGOT TO ADD THE READ MORE I FIXED IT 

More.

One thing you easily learned about Satoru was the fact he wasn’t easy to satisfy. He’s demanding, cocky, all the while being nonchalant. He rarely exerts effort, but gets the desired results. He’s arrogant, but it’s nearly impossible to point out a flaw to counter it at all.

It makes your head hurt. It makes your teeth clench.

When you make eye contact, you make sure to stare back daggers. When you’re forced to talk to him, your voice stays monotone and expressionless. When you’re in a room with him for more than five minutes, your earbuds are already out, drowning out the sound of his voice. But it’s all difficult when you’re under the same roof.

Knock. Knock.

You roll your eyes at the sound of your step brother knocking your door, wondering what the hell he wants now. At this point, he’s probably just trying to annoy you, poke at your sides until he gets attention, any kind of attention, all just to satisfy his boredom.

Your calm demeanor and sharp tongue has always contrasted with Satoru’s teasing attitude. He’s always seemingly trying to provoke you, trying to pry apart the walls you’ve barricaded yourself in. His personality never rubbed you in the right way from the day your dad surprised you with a dinner with your new brother and your new mom. It didn’t matter anyways, you thought. You’d be going off to university soon enough.

The pandemic ran over all of your plans like a truck.

Better yet, your parents still had work without the option of staying home, leaving you and Satoru home alone for a little over eight hours a day. When he wasn’t in class or tutoring his juniors, he was knocking at your door, most likely red-eyed, though you can’t see it, and relaxed. Despite his persistence, you rarely let him in no matter how insistent he is in “getting to know his new lil sister.”

“Go away, Satoru.”

Behind the door, he pouts while you scribble down notes from the screenshared presentation. He comes in anyways, reeking of marijuana and cologne, half of his shirt buttons undone. You steal a small glance before once again glueing your eyes to your computer screen. The voice of your professor bores you, but you’re hyper aware of Satoru’s presence as he makes himself comfortable on your bed. “Get the fuck off! You stink!” You yell, turning off your camera before throwing a pencil right at him.

He catches it mid air with ease, relaxing his head on your pillows while fiddling with one of your many Sanrio plushies. “Can I have this?” he asks, holding one up as you contemplate its value in your head.

“If it gets you out of my room, then sure.” you reply in a monotone voice, turning back to your notes.

“You’re no fun,” he mumbles, rolling over to lay on his side with the plushie in his arms, “Is that organic chem?”

“Yeah, can you go now?”

“I’ll be quiet, princess. Don’t worry about me, just wanna know what my lil sis is up to.” He waits for a response, but is only rewarded with a huff.

It stays like that for the next ten minutes, him watching your professor’s lecture, you scrambling to write all of the information on the slides as he continues the fast paced lesson. You’re hyper focused on your class, putting in your effort to absorb the entirety of the content. In your mind, the only people in your room are your and your computer. “You know, you don’t have to understand everything all at once,”  a voice speaks up from behind you, causing you to purse your lips in annoyance, “It’s easier to learn when you’re actually paying attention to the lecture instead of focusing on trying to get everything down.

“We get it, Satoru. You have straight A’s and you’re naturally good at everything.”

“Hey, you’re getting advice from an aspiring teacher. Don’t need to use that tone with me, Princess.” He mumbles, rolling to his back on the bed, “Just tryna help you out in my free time.”

“I don’t need your help.”

He stays silent while you go back to drawing some of your basic compounds. Ethanol, methanol, propane, all of it. Your scribbles are messy and they progressively fill out the page in your notebook. You hear a tsk behind you, rolling your eyes as you prepare for another criticism from Satoru. Sure, he was probably right, but you refuse to feed into his ego. “Does he not link the slides to you guys or something?” he asks, this time with a friendlier tone.

“He does.” you reply, swiveling your chair until you’re facing him. He’s laying on his side again, his shirt spilling off his shoulder as your breath hitches at the sight. The blindfold is snug against his face, his hair pushed up. You’re sure that the stink of marijuana has rubbed onto your sheets and you make a mental note to wash them after class. “Then get high with me.”

“I’m in the middle of class, dumbass.”

“But you can always look at the slides later.” he suggests, “Plus, you’ve looked super stressed lately. Wonder why.”

Because of you, you want to say, but you stop yourself, opting to stay silent while pondering the offer. “Sure.”

He excitedly walks back to his room, returning to your bed seconds later with a joint between his fingertips. “This your first time?”

“Nah.”

“Ooooo,” he hums like a child, “That’s what you’re up to when we’re not around, huh?” he teases and you shake your head with a smile forming on your face.

“I guess.”

He shrugs, holding the joint up to your lips and lighting up the tip. You suck in the smoke into your lungs, holding it in, before exhaling out the screen door of your window. He takes a hit, opening his mouth and inhaling through his nose then passing it back to you. Your professor’s lecture fades into background noise as you fixate on Satoru, finally giving him the attention he’s been craving for weeks. He makes a mental note to offer you weed the next time he’s overcome by boredom.

The high hits you almost immediately. You’ve never had anything this strong and it’s liberating. You feel weightless, but your eyelids feel heavy. Your face is awfully warm and lifted and your vision gets more and more blurry by the second. The intoxication is pleasant, the present worries in your head being cut off as you focus on what’s right in front of you.

Satoru.

Satoru, your dear, irritating step brother who was kind enough to share the weed he stashes in his drawer. It’s getting harder and harder to hate him and you can’t reason why you felt so many negative emotions that you projected onto him at all. Sure, your room reeks and it’s all because of him, but the sight of him laying on your bed in a shirt that barely covers up his upper body makes your underwear feel uncomfortable. You don't know where it’s coming from, but shutting it out was easy when you’re sober. Key word: sober.

You stand from your desk, making your way to your bed and laying next to him. Both of you face each other, easily getting comfortable, warmth radiating off his body. It feels oddly intimate and your thighs press together in order to suppress the lustful feeling that takes over your body. Your arm comes around to the back of his head, tugging on the fabric that covers his eyes. “Can I take it off?”

“Sure.”

He lifts his head, allowing you to pull on the knot until it becomes undone. You don’t know what you were expecting, maybe a scar or something, but you’re in awe of the blue orbs that make you feel like you were staring into infinity. They’re bloodshot and half lidded and it’s when one fact you really didn’t want to accept hits you.

Satoru Gojo is one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen.

And he’s your step brother.

Uneasiness stirs in your lower tummy and you curse at whatever higher power that decided to give you this type of luck, but a hand on your hip trails to your back, pulling your closer and closer until your faces are at a dangerous distance. You can feel your cheeks becoming alarmingly hot and you hate that you can’t blame it on the weed. His hand comes up to your cheeks, his thumb stroking the soft skin. “Thought you wanted me to go away?”

“Changed my mind.” you whisper, eyes slowly closing, lips parting open as you wait for him to lean in and close the gap.

“Hmm? What’s this?” he sneers, causing your eyes to shoot open and your body to jolt up from your bed. The hazy feeling on your head still remains, making it hard to stand completely straight. “Get out.” you sternly demand, leaning back on your desk chair and pointing towards your door.

“Why should I? I don’t think you really want me to leave, babe.” He props his head on his hand, leaning his elbow onto your mattress.

“It’s wrong.”

“What’s wrong? We’re just two people hanging out on a bed. Unless you were trying to do something else, dirty girl.”

“I- I wasn’t! You’re my step brother!”

“Step brother.” He repeats, justifying your actions.

You’re shaking, guilt occupying your mind keeping you distracted. It’s the perfect time for Satoru to get comfortable in the space between your legs, pulling down your loose shorts and taking you by surprise. Before you have a chance to protest, his nose brushes against your sensitive core, making you let out a squeak. “W-We can’t do this!”

“Didn’t you want this?” he questions, looking up at you with wide eyes, “Wanted me to take care of this pretty little pussy, right?”

You know you should be refusing. You know you should be pushing him out your door. But it’s so hard when his pupils are dilated and the grip on the sides of your thighs feels so right. At this point, you’re not thinking, only nodding along to whatever he’s saying, anticipating his next actions.

“So wet.” He mumbles, pulling down the flimsy fabric and throwing it off somewhere in the room. He licks a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, sucking softly on the pearl while holding you down as the pleasure causes you to jolt upwards. He sucks and slurps like it’s his last meal, making your empty walls pulsate and little whines along with to leave your lips. Looking down, your eyes meet his, the lower half of his face immersed in your cunt.

The wet muscle fucks into you, curling and pressing against your walls, while his thumb rubs against your little clit. He hits all the right spots that make you squirm, pushing your legs wide open to see more of your ruined pussy. The wetness collects on his mouth, his chin, and his cheeks, filling him with a sick sense of satisfaction. “Such a whore, aren’t ya?” he pulls away to comment, but your fingers thread through his hair, pushing his head back where you need him most.

The action is assertive, something he usually hates dealing with. Though this time, he’s filled with a sick sense of pride at the fact that he was able to turn you, someone who seemed to hate him with a burning passion, into a moaning mess with just his mouth. He hums satisfactorily, sending vibrations into your sensitive core that make your thighs shaky.

You’re already cumming in an embarrassingly short time, gushing all over his face while he laps up all the juices you have to offer.

Before you can process anything else, his lips capture yours, lifting your body and dropping you onto your bed. You look at him with half lidded eyes, still sensitive from your last orgasm, while he pulls off his own clothes. His length rests on the inside of your thigh and he’s huge, so huge that it feels heavy against your skin and it scares you. “Satoru, I don’t think I can take you-”

“Shhh, princess,” he reassures you, “You started this. You have to take it.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to speak, taking the fabric of his blindfold and covering your eyes, tying a tight knot on the back of your head. This isn’t right, a voice in your head tells you, but you ignore it because Satoru treats you so well. He keeps you company, gives you some of his weed, eats your pussy without you having to ask him.

The only thing you can see is black and you whine. You so badly want to see Satoru’s pretty face, his chiseled body, his thick cock, but your thoughts are interrupted by the fat tip prodding at your tiny hole. “Too big..” your voice trails off as your mind is lifted, only the feeling of him splitting you in half remaining. You’ve never felt so full and it feels so dirty, yet your slick says otherwise, betraying any rational part that still resides in your body.

“I got you, Princess, don’t worry.” He slurs, drunk on the sensation of your snug walls. The stretch strings, whimpers spilling from your lips, but his cock hits every spot like no other. By the time he’s fully inside of you, it feels like he’s actually in your guts and it’s all intensified by the isolated feeling, not being able to see him at all. Every bite on your shoulder, every kiss on your open mouth, every delicious drag on your gummy walls is amplified.

You’re already cumming around him, a ring of cream forming on his cock as he gazes down at your bare body, wrapping his lips around a sensitive nipple. You squeal, your breath hitching at the same time you clamp down around his throbbing length. “Already? Such a sensitive little princess, aren’t you?” He mutters in your ear, your nails digging into his shoulders, piercing the pale skin. Tears spill from your eyes, flowing down the sides of your face.

His teeth sink into your shoulder and you want to tell him to stop, but the words don’t quite leave your lips. Only babbling noises accompanied by the wet sounds of your cunt and skin slapping against skin. He’s still pounding into your cervix at a relentless pace, in awe of how your slick drips down his balls and onto the white sheets. 

Every time he hits that sweet spot, there’s an odd feeling that forms, like you’re about to make a mess. And when your next orgasm washes over you in intense waves of euphoria, a clear liquid spurts from your cunny, coating his lower stomach and your inner thighs. “Who knew my little princess was such a messy girl?” he taunts, making your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“S-shut up-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he leans in close, his lips dangerously close to your ear, “I’ll clean it all up.”

His smooth voice causes you to squeeze around him, almost like you don’t want him to ever leave your cunt, and it gets harder and harder for him to move. “Fuck, baby you’re so tight, need you to loosen up,” he mumbles, his own orgasm finally approaching, your little cunny milking him for all he’s worth. 

He’s rambling little praises, hot pleasure elevated by the high, his hips stuttering and his cock stuffing you to the brim with his warm seed. You both lay there, still intertwined and his body resting on top of yours.

“Ms. (L/N)! Did you have any questions about my lesson today?”

Your face drops in horror, your hand immediately pulling off the blindfold, as you push Satoru away from you and press the leave button on Zoom. A mix of your juices drop onto the floor and he chuckles, pulling you back to bed. “This isn’t over.”

He pins you back onto the mattress, his cock twitching at the sight of your leaking cunt, pulling your thighs until you’re close and pinning them to your chest. In one swift movement, his entire cock is shoved into your cunt, his balls slapping against the flesh of your ass with every thrust, fucking his cum back into your womb.

Gojo Satoru would never be satisfied.

#gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #tw.weed #tw.manipulation #tw.dubcon #tw.degradation #tw.squirting #tw.creampie #tw.stepcest #tw.high sex #tw.exhibitionism #tw.oral #tw.size kink #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk fics #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #tw.sensory deprivation #tw.dacryphilia #🌟 — works!

[amerrierworld]

Lullaby

Ocean’s 8 fanfiction

for the request: More Lou x reader plssss they’re so good! Maybe a protective!Lou fic

Summary: Lou is there for you as you struggle with incessant nightmares.

Characters: Lou x gn!reader, the team mentioned in passing

Word Count: 2,071

Warnings: comfort and fluffffff. a bit dark in reference to scary nightmares, restlessness, worry, etc! some fluffy suggestiveness, but nothing smutty

You knew you needed to sleep. Hell, you wanted to sleep. Your eyes were burning as you stared at the ceiling fan high above you, spinning gently and sending cool air to the sleeping bodies below.

The ladies had all crashed at Lou’s that night, an impromptu sleep-over after a night drinking in celebration. There was plenty of couch space to go around, and an extra mattress was pulled out for the remaining few. Pillows and blankets were tossed about and shared. 

You heard Rose snoring quietly at the other end of the mattress. At some point in the night, you had rolled off of your side onto the hardwood floor, blankets half-covering your restless body.

The ground was hard and cold against your back, but it was a welcomed feeling, because you’d woken up in a fit, heart pounding, drenched in sweat and gripping the blankets with trembling hands. 

You didn’t expect nightmares to visit you tonight. You’d drank happily and were exhausted from the day’s events, and you were out cold as soon as everyone turned out the lights and said goodnight.

But shadowy figures danced about your brain as you laid there, staring up at the ceiling fan, trying to decide what to do next. Memories of the nightmare were already fading due to the drunken haze you had fallen asleep in, but the panic was still heavy in your chest. 

Suddenly, your body tingled with restlessness and you sat up. Wincing at the stickiness of your sweaty shirt peeling off the floor, you got up and gingerly stepped around your sleeping friends. You needed to move, or do something, before your heavy breathing woke anyone else up.

You went to the bathroom, used the toilet, combed your fingers through your wild hair. Wandered around the small space for a bit, opened the cupboards and inspected what kind of hair products Lou liked to use. 

It was eerily quiet, the kind of quiet in someone else’s house that you’re not used to. You sat on the edge of the bathtub, which was wondrously large, and debated drawing yourself a bath. It’d be too loud to fill it, you figured. You’d feel like you were imposing, no matter how comfortably you knew Lou and the rest of the team. 

But you also didn’t want to go back yet either. The cool bathroom floor tiles were jarring but relaxing to your aching feet, and the harsh bright light dispelled any shadows around you.

Wild, hot tears prickled the edges of your eyes and you sniffled. You rubbed your face with a shaky hand, irritated at your drowsiness but inability to sleep peacefully which only made you cry harder. 

Wind roared outside and the lights flickered for a split second as you sobbed silently into your hands.

-

Lou wasn’t a light sleeper by any means, but if something sounded off in her own home, she’d be the first to wake up. And so, when she heard soft footsteps creaking up her staircase, she was awake in seconds.

She peeked down the hall and saw the light coming from the bathroom as you snuck in, clicking it shut slowly, as if all hell would break loose if someone heard you. 

Lou normally wouldn’t have done anything, considering there were eight people sleeping over and someone was bound to use the toilet in the middle of the night, but the way your feet shuffled weakly and your head was bowed down in fear made her worry.

She waited for you to come back out. Heard the flushing of the toilet, the running of the sink, and expected you to open the door again immediately. But you didn’t. And when she walked over, leaned her ear towards the door and heard quiet sobs coming through, she nearly broke down the door with how swiftly she opened it, fearing the worst. 

Your back straightened, squeaking in surprise at the sight of Lou in the doorway, her eyebrows furrowed.

You both stared at each other for a moment. Lou opened her mouth and closed it again, swallowing thickly. She realized how invasive it was for her to burst through the door, but the sound of you in torment pushed any rational thoughts out of her brain.

Rubbing your eyes quickly, you got up and wrung your hands in front of you. 

“S-sorry I took so long,” you said, thinking she needed to hurriedly use the bathroom. Lou’s brain was short-circuiting with both worry and confusion. Your clothes stuck to your body and seemed damp, and your face was red and splotchy, despite your attempt to hide any signs of your crying.

You felt bad for waking Lou and keeping her waiting. She was wearing an oversized rock ‘n roll t-shirt that nearly reached her knees, and her hair stuck out in all directions, a low bun drooping and threatening to fall out entirely. 

“It’s alright,” Lou replied dumbly, not realizing why you were apologizing. 

You got closer, trying to think of how to get past her without making it obvious how much you were struggling, hoping her sky-blue eyes wouldn’t catch on.

But a gentle hand stopped you before you could walk past her and you knew that she had.

“Y/N,” she whispered, pushing you back a bit so she could close the bathroom door, giving you privacy, “what’s wrong?”

You nonchalantly leaned against the sink, looking at your toes, “nothing.”

The lights flickered again as the wind howled outside. Suddenly the space felt too surreal, too harsh and bright, and you ached.

Lou turned away from you, rummaging around and pulling out a washcloth. She used the sink behind you to dampen it, and you wondered what she needed it for. Maybe she needed to wash her face, or had some makeup left over...

Then she reached for your hand and gently pressed the fabric against the back of it. The lukewarm temperature of it zapped through your body like a shot and your clammy hand went limp in hers.

She searched your eyes, looking for fear, for rejection. Instead she found pleading, drowsiness and trust.

“I’m not good with words,” she muttered as she rubbed the cloth over your fingers and forearm, before moving to the other. “But does this help?”

You nodded, face scrunching up as tears threatened to flow again and you wanted to hold them back. 

Then she pressed the damp cloth against your collarbones and shoulders, where you felt sickly sweaty, shuddering. When she reached behind to cup your  neck and work her fingers into your muscles through the cloth, you surrendered. Your body tipped forward, following the pressure of her hand and resting your forehead against her shoulder. 

She stilled, holding the cloth against your bare, clammy skin. 

“I can’t sleep,” you muttered thickly into her shirt, voice breaking.

Immediately the cloth was gone and her hands replaced the absence, holding you closely and letting your entire weight rest against her. Hot tears flowed again.

“Did Tammy kick you in her sleep?” Lou asked, “apparently she does that. If she did you just gotta kick her back-”

You chuckled, pulling away a bit, and replied, “no, it wasn’t Tam. I get these.. nightmares.”

Lou’s eyebrow raised in curiosity. Her hands held your waist as she let you speak, the warmth and heaviness of them a grounding feeling for you.

“I have trouble sleeping at really stupid times,” you muttered, “And then I’m stressed about it. When I wake up I- I’m afraid to even think about going back to sleep.

“Like- I- I don’t know, they just happen and I wake up, but I don’t feel like myself when I do, and- and it takes ages to feel okay again. I just..”

You trailed off, biting your lip in worry, clenching Lou’s shirt in your hands as you looked at her chin to avoid her piercing gaze.

Lou’s heart broke a bit at the sight of you fighting with yourself, and she sighed. One of her hands came up to cup your cheek, making you meet her eyes.

“Would it help if someone was with you?” she asked.

“Well.. no, clearly, because even with the whole team down there-”

“I meant someone who was with you. Making sure you’re okay and safe to fall sleep,” Lou corrected herself, smiling at your doe-eyed look, eyes wide, cheeks still splotchy. She picked up the washcloth, ran it under the water again and rubbed it gently against your cheeks.

Your eyes fluttered closed as you tried to form words, feeling wonderfully sleepy in her arms,

“I- I suppose so.. maybe. I don’t know.”

“My bed is a lot cozier than the couches downstairs,” Lou suggested, picking her words carefully. “If you’d like you could...”

“Sleep with you?”

“Not sleep with me,” Lou said hastily, “but.. yes. If it'd be more comfortable.”

You smirked a little, looking up at her and batting your eyelashes, “What if I did want to... sleep with you?”

Lou snorted, “not with the state you’re in right now, missy. You look ready to fall over and snore all on my floors.”

You blushed, rubbing your thumbs over the middle of Lou’s shirt, too distracted by the design on it to notice you were pressing your fingers against her abdomen and warm skin, making her nostrils flare and her grip tighten.

“You can say no, Y/N.”

“No, I’d like that, but.. why? You’re not just feeling bad for me are you?”

“No, of course not,” Lou sighed, “Y/N..”

She cupped your cheek and looked you squarely in the eyes, “you mean the world to me, darling. I mean that. Let me take care of you, at least for tonight. Let me help.”

You blushed, again feeling your emotions well up and threaten to spill over but Lou rubbed your cheeks with her thumbs, brushed back your hair, pulled you closer to her warm body.

You nodded and felt Lou take your hand, open the door and turn off the bathroom light, swallowing both of you in darkness. She lead you and you followed blindly to her bedroom, where a massive bed awaited. 

You put a hand on the mattress, feeling that it was still warm from where Lou was sleeping, and the thought made you blush. There was a glass of water on the nightstand that Lou encouraged you to drink.

“Crying makes you dehydrated,” she said as she went through her drawers. “Drink something, it’ll help.”

You downed the glass in nearly one gulp, and your throat felt less like sandpaper after finishing it. 

“Here,” Lou whispered softly. She was holding out another oversized shirt to you, “It’ll be easier to sleep with something clean.”

You nodded and lifted your arms as Lou reached for the hem of your shirt, tugging it off of your body. In the semi-darkness, the only light being Lou’s lamp on her nightstand, you should have felt exposed, but Lou did nothing that made you feel uncomfortable. 

She tugged her shirt over your head and helped your arms through, the soft fabric falling against your skin with a welcomed sigh.

Then she kneeled down and tugged your pants off for you too, palms rubbing at your calves and heels in assurance. 

She pushed back the comforter and climbed in on the other side of the bad, tucking her long legs under the sheets and holding out her hand for you to take.

You snuggled in beside her, warm from where she’d been sleeping, her scent enveloping you and blurring your mind like a drug. 

“Feeling better?”

You nodded, admiring her in the soft light. You looked so cozy, swaddled by her comforter and pillows that Lou couldn’t bear to ask you to turn out the light. So instead, she reached over you with long arms, turning out the light herself.

As she did, your body rolled towards her as she came closer to you, and she blinked in surprise just as darkness surrounded you. 

Once Lou got comfortable, you were pressed up against her side, face buried in the crook of her neck, and your breathing was coming out slowly, evenly.

Lou smiled as she realized you’d fallen asleep, peacefully, it seemed. She draped an arm over your middle and pressed a kiss on your head, holding you tightly and mentally fighting off all the nightmares threatening to come into her room tonight. 

-

A/N: this was very cathartic for me to write, I hope it may do the same for you reading it <3

#lou #lou miller #lou miller x reader #lou miller x you #cate blanchett #cate blanchett x you #cate blanchett x reader #wlw #lgbt #ocean's eight #oceans 8 #oceans8 #oceans 8 fanfic #ocean's 8 #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #merry writes

[sugarmaplewings-fics]

Unexpected Kisses

Pairing: BNHA boys x reader

Warnings: Talks about anxiety for a bit in Tamaki’s part

Request: Hi!! Uhm,, I kinda,,, don't talk to users on this app so idk where to send requests AHAJSHSJHS but I do know that you write BNHA stuff so,,,, if it's not too much, maybe Tamaki, Midoriya, Denki and Kirishima (separate) reacting to their s/o's suddenly scattering their face with kisses and complimenting them out of the blue?? you don't have to do all of them tho :''D thank you!! <33

A/N:

I don’t have much to say about this one, other than sending thanks to @aahilovetheatre​ for sharing such a cute request with me! Sorry I’m slow about getting these out, but I am working at my request list the best that I can.

Characters: Midoriya, Kirishima, Kaminari, Amajiki

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Midoriya:

● You know, he really was just minding his own business

● Izuku sat at his desk, taking notes from a textbook like he did every Thursday evening. You were laying on his bed, reading a book for class. Every minute or so, the silence of the room would be broken by the scratching of a pencil or the turn of a page

● At some point, you started getting a little bored with your reading. The words on the page began to feel less and less comprehensible as your mind started to wander elsewhere

● Your boyfriend cleared his throat, and your fickle attention snapped to him

● He was so absorbed in his work, it was cute. The way his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned over the page; and how he tapped the worn down All Might eraser at the end of his pencil against his lips. His lips . . . his cheeks . . . . Yep, you were getting an idea

● Sliding a post-it note into your book to mark your progress, you set it down and stood up. Izuku, of course, didn't notice, still deep in concentration

● You came up behind him, glancing at the paper from over his shoulder

● He finally turned and straightened, meeting your eyes with his own forest green. "Hey, (Y/N), what's up?"

● You took the opportunity to slide down into his lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I needed a break for a moment."

● "O-oh." Izuku's voice had taken on a higher pitch, cheeks flushing with warmth and color at your sudden proximity

● He dropped his pencil and wrapped his arms around your waist, beginning to relax into your hold

● It was then that you put your hands on either side of his face and started pressing kisses all over him, leaving no area of skin untouched by your lips

● You could feel the way his cheeks began to burn a bright red under your fingers, nervously giggling at the ticklish sensation of your breath and skin against his

● Once you were finally satisfied, you sat back, simply gazing at his face lovingly for a moment

● "What was that for?" he asked. “I—I mean, it’s not that I didn’t enjoy it—” You wondered if it was your own heart or his that you felt beating so rapidly

● "I just . . . needed you,” you cut in. “You're so cute when you study." You relaxed your grip on his cheeks, sliding back in to plant yet another kiss on his forehead. "You work so hard . . . ." You began to graze your lips slowly over to his temple, before pressing them back to his skin in a syrupy sweet moment

● You proceeded to praise him, whispering how strong he was, and how proud you were to have him as your boyfriend, and how attractive you found him. After every other sentence, you left another kiss on his face, whether it was his cheek, forehead, or nose. You even made a silent game out of trying to see how many of his freckles you could kiss

● By the end of it, Izuku looked almost like he was about to cry. He'd loved every minute of it and had hung onto your every word. Even so, he still couldn't help but wonder what brought all this on

● "(Y/N), what's—why would you—?"

● You poked at his nose gently. "Because I love you."

● He wrapped his own arms tighter around you, crushing you closer into his chest for a hug. "I love you too, (Y/N). So much."

● You rubbed his back while he stroked your hair for a moment, just letting yourselves hold each other

● "Do you have work you need to do?" you finally asked. "Sorry, I interrupted you."

● "No no, that's okay. We can stay like this for a little bit longer."

● You hummed, nuzzling further into the crook of his neck

● No doubt about it, Izuku's head was already spinning with schemes to surprise you and get you back. It was only a matter of when

____________

Kirishima:

● Kirishima was just hanging out on the couch, casually scrolling through various feeds on his phone

● That is, until you came in the room, intent on sneaking up behind him

● You went up behind the couch as softly as you could, before suddenly wrapping your arms around his neck from behind

● He jumped, startled for a moment, until he realized it was you

● "Hey, there," he said, rolling his head back so he was looking upside down at you

● You giggled and kissed his forehead. "Hi."

● "Come 'ere." He patted the empty cushion next to him

● Without needing to be told twice, you circled around to the other side of the couch, settling onto his lap

● "So, how have you been—mmph—"

● You'd cut him off with a kiss to his lips; one he quickly grinned and melted into

● "Woah, okay," he breathed when you let him go. "Is there something going on?"

● "Hmm, no," you admitted, reaching up to boop his nose. "I just love you. Feel like showing it."

● "Okay, then. I can get behind that." He put your foreheads together and nuzzled his nose against yours. "How are you going to do that?"

● "By telling you how amazing you are," you said, leaning in to kiss his forehead again

● His blush nearly tripled. "O-oh. I—"

● "Like, how you're so strong and manly," you whispered, lips grazing the skin of his cheek. "And you've worked so hard to get where you are now. You're brave, and I'm so proud to say that you're my boyfriend."

● Your words went on as you languidly pressed kisses against his skin. After a few minutes, you’d worked him up so much, a tear or two spilled from his eyes, and you kissed those away as well

● "I love you," you whispered again, dipping to give him a full kiss on the lips

● When you leaned back, he simply gazed up at you in awe. He was a man in love, and it was as though you were some sort of deity or angel sent from the skies above

● "I—um, I don't really know what to say," he said, giving a weak chuckle and wiping at his eye. "Wow, uh, I wasn't expecting that."

● "Did you enjoy it?" you asked, pulling yourself into his chest a little more

● "Yeah! I'm just—not very used to it is all." He trailed off, glancing to the floor as his thoughts began to take flight on their own

● "You'd better get used to it," you said, tilting his chin so he could look at you again. "And I meant everything I said. If you try to deny it, then I'm going to say it again. But this time I won't be so nice."

● "Oh, really?" Eijirou asked, a smirk drawing a corner of his mouth up. "And what would that look like?"

● "Well, I guess I'd have to tickle you," you said, shrugging as if it were an unavoidable fact. Because it was. "And I wouldn't stop until you admit that what I'm saying is the truth."

● "Hmm, I'll keep that in mind then." He suddenly pushed you back a little from his chest so you were facing him again. "But I think a little payback's in order. Say, Pebble," he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on your nose, "you're looking pretty cute today."

● It was a long time before either of you moved from the couch

____________

Kaminari:

● Denki was just laying on his bed, alone in his room, reading

● This particular part of his book wasn't particularly interesting, and he was considering leaving it to come back to some other time

● Nevertheless, his eyes lingered on the page, skimming through sentences that did nothing to capture his attention. Maybe it would be easier for him to pick back up if he left on a better note

● You had other plans, though

● The silence in his room was broken when you flung his door open, running in without scarcely bothering to swing it all the way shut again behind you

● Kaminari barely had time to lower his book when you came barreling into his lap, throwing your arms around him in a mighty hug

● "Oof—(Y/N)-chan! What's going on?"

● "You're getting a vibe check."

● You adjusted yourself just enough so you would both be comfortable before peppering his face with kisses, rapidly moving over every key point

● "Ah—what?!" Denki started giggling at your actions, and soon enough you were unable to fight back the smile and laughs that were freely expressed by your own lips

● "Denki! If I'm laughing like this, then I can't kiss you!"

● "Then what if I kiss you?"

● He pecked the tip of your nose, making you giggle again as you eased in closer to his face. "No. It's my turn. I love you and I need you right now."

● "(Y/N), we just saw each other an hour ago."

● "Too long," you pouted, going back to planting kisses on his cheeks, although this time you were slower and more deliberate. "I want to make sure that you know how much you're loved. By me."

● Kaminari's cheeks flushed a bit. "Really? O-okay."

● You busied your hands by rubbing at his back and shoulders, your lips whispering praises into his ear

● "I love spending time with you," you said. "I love your jokes, and hearing your laugh always brightens up my day."

● Each sentence had him burning up, and the slow kisses you'd leave between sentences did nothing to help. Any minute now, he felt like he could short circuit

● When you finally leaned back, Denki stared at you, wide-eyed. "Where did that come from?"

● "I just felt like it." You shrugged

● "Wow, I—I think I need a minute."

● He glanced off to the side, touching at one of the countless places you'd kissed him. "You're so cute, babe," he muttered, grinning into his hand

● "Yeah?" you giggled

● "Of course." Denki wrapped his arms around you again so you were flush against his chest. "And you know what else?"

● "What?"

● "I'd say it's cuddle time." He pulled you down so you were lying on top of him, then rolled to his side so you were still facing each other. "And it's also my turn. I'm not going to be the only one who's getting compliments today."

● And with that, he held you; generously peppering your face with kisses as he professed everything he loved about you

● It was a wonderful end to his afternoon

____________

Amajiki:

● Tamaki was alone in his room. He had turned the lights off and sat down in his bed. His head rested in his hands as he tried to stop the shaking, but it was almost as if there was nothing he could do

● He'd just had an awful day and his mind wouldn't stop going back to everything that had gone wrong

● First he'd had to do a presentation, which he could have sworn he was ready for. But fate—or at least, his anxiety—had other plans

● It was as if he was watching himself from outside of his body; watching as his own throat closed up and he lost the capability to speak. Watched as he stumbled over his own thoughts as his tongue betrayed him. He spat out an incomprehensible string of "um"s, and spoke too fast, and his thoughts wouldn't connect with one another

● And then, directly after that, he'd been unable to find either you nor Mirio. You both must have been busy with your own work, but seeing you was something that Tamaki always looked forward to. He could make it through any kind of day as long as one of you spoke your kind words to him, or showed him your sun-bright smiles

● But he'd been deprived of that, forced to retreat to his dorm room to sulk alone

● His mind focused on the memory of his words, replaying them over and over again

● It was so much, he almost didn't hear the knock at his door

● "Tamaki? Are you in there?" He immediately recognized your voice

● "Yeah," he called back glumly. He was glad he would finally get to see you, but now he wasn't sure what it would take to get him out of such thoughts

● You let yourself in, quietly shutting his door before making your way over to his bed. "Are you doing okay?" you asked him. "I've barely seen you at all today. How'd your presentation go?"

● "Awful," he responded. "I locked up again. Everyone was staring at me and I was under so much pressure." He paused and sighed, putting his face in his hand again

● "Hey, it's going to be okay," you said, putting a hand on his back. "I'm sure your teacher understands. And you're a really good student and hero."

● "Hm," he responded, not looking at you

● "You don't believe me?" you asked, reaching up to caress his cheek. "It's true."

● He still made no move to respond, merely sighing and leaning into your touch

● "Is it okay if I hold you?" you asked. "Would that help at all?"

● You knew it could be a little risky being too forward with touching Tamaki. It was always best to ask first

● He finally met your eyes, nodding. You both moved around on the bed until you were comfortably seated in his lap, thighs wrapped around his hips

● You held onto each other in a close hug, and soon your hands were rubbing little circles on Tamaki's back. You began to whisper things to him, telling him everything would be alright

● "Hey, hey. It's just you and me now, no one else. It's okay."

● Finally his shoulders began to settle from their tense, hunched position

● You nuzzled your nose against his ear before giving his cheekbone a small peck

● "Feeling better?" you asked

● "Yeah, a little," he admitted, his face still buried in your shoulder. "Thanks for this."

● "Of course."

● You pulled back so you could face him, unable to stop yourself from placing a kiss directly on the tip of his nose

● You grinned at how his face scrunched up a bit, so you repeated the action. Soon enough, you were leaving little kisses all over his face, and the boy beneath you even let out a few chuckles at the sensation

● "I love you," you said, watching as his pre-existing blush only deepened

● "I love you too," he said. "You always know how to make me feel better."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Taglist: @basicaegyo​ @iiminibattlehero​ @katsugay​ @nabo39​ @pyrofanatic​​ @sendhelpimstupid​ @sokkasangel​ @xoxopam4​​

#midoriya izuku #izuku midoriya imagine #midoriya imagine #deku imagine #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #request fulfilled #sugar fics

[wri0thesley]

hi nat it's the avdol anon again 😳 i noticed that ur requests were open and uh... you might know why i'm here. feel free to take this in any direction u want but i was wondering if afab reader could get a tarot/palm line reading by avdol which foreshadows their quickly budding romance. this is just an idea but i think it's cute! tysm for reading <3

prediction - avdol x reader (2k)

warnings: none! neutral reader, neutral pronouns. sfw.

It is your third time stepping foot in Muhammad Avdol’s little fortune-telling shop, and your heart is beating faster and more nervously than it ever has before. The first time, you had come with a friend who had not stopped chattering on about how they’d heard that this man was the real deal, they had friends who he’d been able to tell the life story of from just a glance at a tarot card spread. You had been sceptical but humoured them, agreeing to come with them to get a glimpse of this mysterious character who would so easily be able to read one’s past. It would have been dangerous, you reassure yourself, to send your friend alone to a strange new place.

Avdol himself had looked at you and smiled and you had been hit by how warm he was. You’d assumed he’d look like a charlatan, a snake-oil salesman – but his hands had seemed genuine as he’d shook yours, his thumb warm as it brushed your wrist, a curious expression on his handsome face before he’d turned to your friend.

His shop smelt like burning incense, draped in rich warm shades of red and ochre, comforting as he poured you both a cup of tea. If he’d been perturbed that your friend had brought with them an audience, he did not show it; merely motioned for the two of you to sit as he shuffled a well-worn pack of tarot cards.

You had expected the same vague kind of allusions as you’d heard so many people make before – broad statements that, if thought about, could be connected to anything in one’s life if the listener was desperate to do so. You’d expected his dark eyes to be sharp as he searched your friend for weakness, as he picked up on various little tremors of their face and voice and twisted them into something like cleverness.

But his voice had been unwavering and calm as he’d said names straight off the bat, as he’d confidently recounted incidents in their life in not quite elaborate detail, but in enough detail for you and your friend both to understand that he was the real deal. As he’d predicted moments in the future, his brow furrowing as he gave advice as to paths that should be taken carefully and paths that should be embarked upon with wild fervour and excitement.

He’d taken their money with a small smile, before he’d turned to you and said;

“And you?”

The thought of your future spelt out by him suddenly seemed terrifying. You had shaken your head, backing away – and he had given you that curious look again, like he saw something inside of you that you’d never noticed yourself.

“Maybe next time I see you,” he’d said, and you’d followed your friend out of the room with a dizziness that you couldn’t quite explain.

He had not said ‘if I see you’. In Muhammad Avdol’s mind, the two of you meeting again was a fated occurrence. You had told yourself that you would not allow that to happen, to afraid of all of the things that could happen to you and hadn’t yet.

Of course, you go back. Your friend is desperate to see him again, after some advice that he gave them leads to a promotion at work. They want to thank him, and ask him advice for an upcoming business trip that will take them out of Egypt for six months – when you hesitantly shake your head and bite your lip, they pout at you.

“Please?” They wheedle. “I won’t see you again for half a year, this is our chance to do something together before I leave--”

And because you love your friends, you agree, and you step foot in the comforting, homely little fortune-telling shop for the second time in your life.

Avdol does not look up from the table.

“I already poured you tea,” he says. “Please, take a seat.”

Something about the atmosphere of the shop is at once terrifying and comforting to you; like a place you’ve been a hundred times in your dreams. Your fingers trace the delicate gold embroidery of the table cloth as Avdol listens to your friend’s ardent thanks. It’s pretty; constellations on dark midnight blue velvet.

“Do you like it?” You’re snapped from the daydream by Avdol. He’s looking at you, his face unreadable. “I made it myself.”

“Oh,” you say, heat rushing to your face. “Y-yes. It’s beautiful. So delicate. It must have taken a long time--”

“I like projects,” he says to you. “Small work you have to take your time over. It’s satisfying to see it turn into something beautiful at the end.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he looks at you. “Watch out for your own constellation, habibi.”

You don’t know what he means, but your friend is tugging you out of the door before the two of you outstay your welcome, chattering on about all of the advice that Avdol has given them about making the most of their six months in a foreign country. When you round the corner and Avdol’s little shop is no longer in sight, she gives you an elbow to the ribs.

“I think he likes you,” she says, and you go all over hot and bothered at the thought of it. There’s something about him that frays at the edges of your consciousness – you have never felt quite so safely ensconced in anything as you feel within the warm incense-laden air of his rooms. But him liking you is ridiculous. And you don’t believe in anything so nebulous as fortune-telling.

You do some spring cleaning that weekend. In the very corner of your wardrobe, almost falling into a gap between the floor of it and the chipboard of the back, is a necklace that your mother gave you for your eighteenth birthday. It’s not precious; it was a silly little gift picked up for pennies in a market to go inside your birthday card, cheap metal. It’s a representation of the constellation you were born under.

Your heart beats too fast in your chest as you put it on.

And that’s the series of events that leads you to be stepping foot in Muhammad Avdol’s fortune telling shop ten minutes before he’s due to close. The lights are already off, but Avdol is sat by his table with a book in his hand and looks up as the bell over his front door rings, a smile splitting his face.

“I was expecting you earlier,” he says. Your hands fly up to the necklace, twisting it between thumb and forefinger. “Ah. I’m glad you heeded the warning.”

“How did you know?” You ask him, your throat dry as you take the seat that he points to opposite him. There is already a steaming teacup in front of it; you know it will be steeped exactly how you like it, will have two spoonfuls of sugar in it, will be your favourite blend. Avdol has seemed to know that since the moment he laid eyes on you.

“The universe works in whatever way it wills,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his own tea. The teacup he has put in front of you is patterned with your favourite flower. “You wanted me to read your palm, didn’t you?”

You nod. You do not ask him how he knows what you came here for. Too many coincidences have lead you to this point, and with Avdol so close to you and you finally alone with him you are beginning to wonder if your scepticism has been misplaced. He holds his hand out over the finely embroidered velvet cloth – you realise that your own birth constellation is exactly beneath it.

Up close, he’s so handsome you can barely breathe. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, his skin reflecting the flickering candlelight beautifully. His hands are warm and dry; well-kept, as you place your own in it palm-up.

“You’re soft,” he says – which is not the most professional thing for him to say, you don’t think, but your breath catches in your throat anyway. “Let me see.”

He gently traces your life line. He murmurs something about your family, about your past, about your driving force and your career – all of it true, all of it right. His finger dances over it as he tells you to be wary of people offering you chances that are too good to be true.

Head line. Fate line. His fingers are so warm, he holds you so gently – you imagine what he would feel like holding your hand as a lover and chastise yourself in your head. Everything he says to you about your past is true. Everything he says about your personality, about how you value certain things and about how you are feeling right at that very moment is true. You can barely breathe as his index finger brushes along your heart line.

“Ah,” he murmurs, soft. He coughs. You swear you see his cheeks change colour, just a little, but you don’t know how to react to it. “This is interesting.”

“I-is that a good thing?” You ask him, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Perhaps,” he says. There’s a rigidity to him that wasn’t there a moment ago.

“What . . . what does it say?” You ask. “What does it mean? Am I going to meet a tall, dark, handsome stranger?”

“Not a stranger,” he says. He swallows, and for the first time you see Avdol looking a little nervous. “And I think perhaps it would be remiss for someone like me to call him handsome.” You look curiously at him, but his eyes are focused on your smaller palm. It feels so right, being held like this. “Your heart line. Well. It says you were wary of this person at first, that you did not quite believe everything they were saying – but that something about them seemed to draw you in even so, like a magnetic pull. It says . . .” He seems more awkward than you’ve ever seen him, and certainly more awkward than you’ve ever heard anyone describe an encounter with him. “It says you should trust your instincts. And if you want to make a move . . . well. It seems to think today is as good a day as any.”

Your eyebrows scrunch as you think about what he could mean. You haven’t had any thoughts about anyone like that, recently. There’s nobody in your life. Hell, Avdol is the first man you’ve touched like this in the past week--

And a lightbulb goes off over your head.

It explains the way that you feel in his shop, the way that your heart seems to beat just a little bit quicker around him. It explains the constellations and the teacup and the way the two of you keep not quite meeting one another’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Avdol says. “This is unprofessional, I should be closing up shop right now--”

He goes to drop your hand, but you breathe in soft and sure as you whisper with a dry voice;

“Wait.”

He looks at you from under thick dark lashes. The whole of outer space feels like it’s contained within his eyes; dark constellations, secrets you can only wish you understood. You take a deep breath to gather all of your courage up within you. You think of Avdol warning you about things offered that seem too good to be true, but you push back the anxiety.

“Would you like to get something to eat, sometime? I’d ask about something to drink, but . . . I don’t think anything will measure up to the tea.”

Avdol looks at you. His eyes linger over your face; the cross between trepidation and hopefulness. They flicker back down to your palm. The small smile he gives you in return to yours is just as shaky as your own.

“Yes,” he says, quietly. “I would love to.”

#writing #jjba #avdol x reader #muhammad avdol #jojo's bizarre adventure #muhammad avdol x reader #jojo fluff #avdol fluff #neutral reader #Anonymous

[littlefreya]

The Crystal Ship - Part 2

Summary: Henry is the most dangerous crime lord in England, he has everything he wants and women throw themselves at his feet, but what really gets him off is what’s hard to get. Read Part One | Master List

Pairing: AU! Mafia Boss!Henry Cavill x OFC (Ash)

Word count: 7K

Warnings: Smutty Smut, MaleDom / FemSub, abuse of power, dirty language, size kink, rather bratty behavior, knife play, rough unprotected sex, bodily fluids.

A/N: Okay, part deux is here. Que: Freya having a panic attack. I hope I don’t let you guys down. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ who is my beta and supported me through and to @wondersofdreaming​ who helped me get out of my funk. 

Please leave feedback  💖🥺 and more importantly, enjoy.

Title: The Crystal Ship - Part Deux

“I’d like to fuck you.” 

His smooth baritone thundered like a storm, reverberating inside the chasm of her mind. 

It was a few minutes before midnight. Ash sat restlessly next to the white wooden vanity in her snug London pad. The place was so cosy that the double bed was squeezed between two naked walls. Space was definitely sparse, but it was enough for a life of solitude.

The silver card laid in her grasp, various colours curved upon the metallic surface, reflecting luminance onto her eyes. It has been the third night since her encounter with “the king of crime” himself, and his scent refused to depart. 

Smoky, spicy, indomitable. An intoxicating blend of desire and dismay. 

Henry was not seen at the club since that evening. In his absence, she spiralled into a squall of anxiety. She was scared of his return and yet the desire to see him was insatiable. The idea of the big, handsome beast returning to claim what he coveted made the hairs at the back of her neck stand up.

Don’t, just don’t. This is a man who can really fuck up your life. 

Indeed, what a man: an alpha, dwarfing any other guy who briefly entered and exited her life. 

And this powerful golden king wanted to be inside her.  

Her breath fell short just from the thought, while the phantom feeling of his touch shadowed at her breasts. Underneath her bra, stains of purple and yellow blended with her skin tone. 

This man can break you. 

Henry was the first man to touch her in 2 years, his large hands awakening the very dormant lonesome need inside. Desperately, she reached a hand to cup her breast in comfort and gave a miserable sigh. It was far from enough; her fickle skin demanded broken blood vessels and mingling sweat, the violence of skin slapping onto skin. 

She needed the big, dark, lust-filled danger with eyes like ice and luscious coal curls. 

This man could kill you. But you have already made your decision, haven’t you? 

The sharp corners of the cardboard stung the softness of her palm. It was then when she noticed her fist was squeezed tightly over the card. Splaying her hand open, she straightened the thick paper and mouthed the numbers that were inked onto the crumpled surface.

Will one time really be so bad? He might be a monster but at least he doesn’t look like one.

Ash’s heart began pounding as thrill poured in. Excitement flapped in her chest like a little bird in a cage, eager to be free.

~*~*~

Tiny drops of rain began falling on the ground as Ash waited beneath the penumbra of the lamp post. The gentle shower dampened her ponytail and filled her nose with the relaxing smell of the wet earth. It was quite chilly at that time of the year, but her faux leather jacket and skinny jeans felt like enough. 

The small street of her neighbourhood was dead that time of night, the red brick homes standing silent and bleak. It was the first time she preferred it that way, not wanting anyone to spot her being picked up by a stranger in the middle of the night. 

Waiting for Henry’s driver, she wondered how many times a week he would do these sort of pussy takeaways for his boss. Shame hinged on her mind, yet she assumed it wouldn’t matter much to a man who ran errands for England’s king of organized crime. It was too late to change her mind anyway. Henry knew she was on her way, and to go back from their contract would have been an insult. 

Bright lights blinded her vision as a black Bentley pulled into the driveway and a window rolled down. A man in his late 40s with striking blue eyes and hard lines trailing his face narrowed his eyes at her.

Suddenly wearing jeans and sneakers didn’t feel like the best of ideas, but a part of her dreaded the thought of playing a character just to appease “the king”. Her wardrobe was far from the outfits she wore at work, and wearing high heels all day took a toll on her aching ankles.    

“Ashleigh?” The driver asked in a husky Cockney accent.

She nodded and offered him a polite smile while he remained stoic. Not bothering to introduce himself, he stepped out of the car: a tall, lean man, wearing a dark tailored suit and an earpiece which she gathered was used to help him respond to his boss quickly.

Holding one hand behind his back the way Ash only saw in the movies, the driver moved toward the door. 

“There is no need, I can get it myself.” she waved him off but the man ignored and opened it for her, gesturing toward the creme-coloured leather seat.

“Boss insists you’d be treated like a lady,” he explained and waited for her to step inside. 

Ash released a long sigh and stepped inside the Bentley. The backseat was spacious and smelled new. Even the seatbelts were stylized to blend with the colours of the car. The only thing that didn’t fit was her and her £15 worth of denim. Feeling awkward and out of place, she leaned back and buckled in. 

A small white bag was laid on the seat next to her. Ash eyed it carefully and flinched in her seat as if it was a trap of some sort. 

“For a lady,” the driver spoke as he saddled himself back in his seat and ignited the car. Ash peered at him through the rearview mirror and their eyes met for a split second. There was a smile on his face but for some reason, it felt degrading. 

~*~*~

Heavy grunts filled the room, followed by the heavy, blunt noise of bones mashed beneath muscle and fat. Thick crimson blood sprayed onto the wall and some on his face. Henry released a sigh and paused, wiping the misguided drops from his face with a small towel while his chest heaved with effort. 

“What an unfortunate turn of events,” he spoke to the men who watched unmoved and stood quietly behind him. The victim strapped to the chair was still breathing, a choking sound cracking from his mouth. Shaking his head, Henry lifted his fist again when the vibration of his phone halted him mid-air. 

Exhaling with frustration, he grabbed the phone from his pocket and answered, tilting his head with a disgusted expression as translucent bubbles of blood and snot came out of the man’s mutilated nose.     

“She’s upstairs at the main door, Sir,” Sean spoke on the other line.

“Leave her at the front door,” he replied and hung up the call. 

Henry wrung his hands to remove the bloodied brass knuckles. He hung them from his fingers until one of his men quickly reached to take them from him. 

“Finish this and leave for the night,” he ordered and shrugged on his suit, checking his sleeves to make sure he was clean of blood splatter.  

~*~*~

Mr. Cavill’s villa hid amidst a landscape of boxed family homes like an evil mansion from a fairytale. Large grey graphite bricks surrounded three stories with dark-tinted windows so vast it was impossible to peek into the house from the outside. 

Her hand trembled as she rang the doorbell. The bag was scrunched between her fingers, her knees nearly giving in as she heard the lock twist and the door shift open. Leaning against the doorframe, Henry puffed his chest, a low hum rumbling in his throat as he drank the small woman in. His bulky features blocked the entire entrance and a hint of a smile twitched at the corners of his perfect lips as he noticed the apprehension that drifted from her like cheap perfume. 

Fright and passion twisted into a single rope as the beautiful monster attempted to conciliate her. Near-angelic curls framed his carved face, his pale skin freshly shaven and a golden glow layered his face. A beast so civilized and attractive: donned in a three-piece navy suit and a pale cerulean shirt, yet the sinister glint that sparkled in the steel of his sight exposed his true nature.

Ash made a quick study to appreciate what was in front of her when her ears and brow suddenly burnt with silent panic. A faint crimson smudge peered beneath the thick bundle of the dark earthy curls on his forehead while another much apparent blood splatter soiled the edge of his shirt’s sleeve.

Henry’s welcoming smirk faded as he noticed the colour draining from her face and the small cavity that formed between her lips. Trailing the path of her gaze, his sight landed on the brownish trace of blood. He sighed, calmly adjusting his suit to hide the stain. 

Bloody fantastic. 

Sickness spread through Ash’s pumping veins, the terror that wormed itself into the back of her brain twisted and bent her perception. Escape was a futile idea that she brushed away like a pestering fly. Her survival instincts failed, the sense of looming peril doing nothing but beat her blood to run and draw herself to him. 

It wasn’t courage that made her offer a pacifying smile, but fine recklessness. 

Henry could see the battle in her big hazel eyes. Logic was defeated by the spear of terror and attraction. It smelled delicious. He hoped to further play with this sensation later tonight, but not to the point of traumatizing the poor girl. 

“Finally she arrives,” Henry broke the silence and teased her in his deep bass.  

The young woman appeared much smaller with her flat, worn sneakers. The top of her head edged at his shoulder which he found both cute and arousing. There was nothing she could do to fight him; he would have her in any way he’d choose. 

Noticing his observant glare and his expensive suit, she shrugged her shoulders and smiled with faint amusement. The difference in class was so evident it was screaming in the narrow distance between them.

“Not what you’re used to, isn’t it?”

“No, but don’t worry about that, you won’t be wearing that for long.” he answered and cocked his eyebrow up at her with mischief. 

Ash kept a straight face yet inside she was already a trembling, gasping mess. “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t bother wearing a bra.”

He fought the laughter that circled in his chest. There was something charming about the striking opposite between the succubus he saw at the Imperial club and the mousy girl who stood in front of him right now. Yet the power she had over him was not absent. If anything, it felt even stronger without the assistance of sexy lingerie and heavy makeup. 

It must have been the way in which she fought her own fear and willingly walked into the fire, knowing it would sear yet welcomed it anyway. 

And he indeed had plans to make every part of her sore.  

“Please, come inside.”

Ash’s heart pounded at her rib cage like an angry fist as Henry moved aside and allowed her to pass. The sound of the door closing behind her and the slow recoil of his breath sent a cold sweat beneath her clothes.

Walking into his house with shaky legs, she felt as if she was descending into the underworld. The pearly black marble on the floor spread throughout the house like an endless night sky with sparkling stars that glittered between the creases. The walls were of heavy grey paint, decorated by large abstract pieces of art that only birthed slight colour into the darkness. 

Hades’ realm, Ash mused as she stepped further inside, impressed by the modern golden chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. There was something erotic about the decor of the house, sensually chilling like the man who lived in it.        

“Beautiful place,” she noted, standing in front of him and letting her curious eyes venture through each decorated archway and every single door. Quietly, she wondered how many skulls this malicious man had counted to fund such a lovely place to live. 

“I guess I chose the wrong profession.” she teased before allowing her daring glare to rest upon his. “Doing whatever you do must be more profitable than showing your tits to strangers.”

Henry tilted his head at her with wonder and wrapped his large arms across his chest, his blue eyes giving a sharp warning spark. The fluffy little bunny was now a captive in the lion’s den and instead of lying on her back, she poked the lion at his loins. 

Oddly, it was just as pleasing as it was agitating.

“You really like to play with fire, don’t you?” Henry retorted, his voice lowered by an octave to scare her, yet awe and fascination danced in his eyes as if he dared her to show him more. 

Ash observed him carefully, reading into the beautiful lines that defined his strong face. She allowed herself to drown in the cold molten metal and felt the chill as it surrounded and seeped into her lungs. 

Like a game of cards, she played herself right into his hand. 

“I guess I like being burnt.”

Her past relationship would have definitely proven that notion to be true. Yet something told her Mr. Cavill was a man who would mess her up far worse than any other man she had.

Content by her reaction, the broad man crept closer, his shadow darkening her delicate face while his proximity alone sucked whatever oxygen remained in her labouring lungs. 

“Don’t worry then, I’m about to fuck you so hard your skin and other certain parts will catch flames,” he paused, a slanted leer skewed onto his face as he watched the courage drain from her eyes in seconds. “Isn’t that what you’re here for, little Ashleigh?”

Ash's breath caught in her throat. Passion and anxiety weaved in her gut while her heart shrunk. She couldn’t even muster an appropriate response. Her fingers clutched around the bag, knuckles sweaty and white.   

Henry flicked his tongue over his bottom lip and in a gentleness that was completely surprising, took the bag from her clenched fist. Being so nervous, she didn’t even think to peek inside.

Smirking seductively, he reached a hand into the bag and pulled out a silky red fabric. The material was so thin and slick it felt like liquid in his grasp. Letting the bag fall to the floor, he took the straps between his index fingers and held it in front of her.

“Lovely!” Ash exclaimed, looking at the cherry red maxi dress which suspiciously appeared to be in her size, or at least close enough.  

“I’d like you to wear this tonight.” Henry asked with a tinge of demand in his heavenly voice. 

Ash frowned, bewildered by his request. This was supposed to be a quick hookup. She didn’t plan to have any clothes on yet there she was, playing dress-up with London’s kingpin.

“Do I get to refuse?”

The corner of his lips stretched into a wider grin, forming a deep dimple that lined down his cheek. A smile which made him irresistible and turned her legs boneless.

“You surrendered your free will the moment you stepped inside my house."

Ash stared deep into Henry’s beautiful eyes, reading into the coldness of his glare and finding nothing but severe honesty. A stabbing memory of his words from their first encounter echoed in her mind: He was not one to beg. After a short hesitation, she took the dress while giving him an equally chilly glare. 

The fabric was so delicate it “melted” within her grip. She trembled at the imagination of how sensual it would feel on her bare skin. 

“Where?”

“Bedroom is upstairs, the last door on the left,” He replied and gestured his head toward the large cast of stairs that led to the upper floor. “Don’t go into the room next to it, you’re not going to like what you’ll find.”

~*~*~

His bedroom was just as large and dark as the rest of his house. Taking off her old sneakers and ridding herself of her socks, she toed the black furry carpet that covered the entire room. The large bed was neatly made and it almost felt like a sin to sink onto it. But she imagined she was going to end her night pressed to it one way another, so she allowed herself the luxury to sit down before discarding her clothes. 

Henry’s scent rose from the mattress in an invisible cloud of fumes: strong and earthy. It made her feeble as if she was under his hypnotic powers. Bare to her lace underwear, small fantasies of him pinning her down to this very mattress began slipping into her mind. 

The man was a beast to be feared and yet she soaked at the need to drown in his musk. 

Sighing deeply she rose from the mattress and stood to her knees, flinging the expensive dress over her head. The red material fell down the valley of her body like wine into glass. 

Henry waited at the bottom of the steps. Anticipation and awe were beaming in his eyes like two large shiny diamonds. The red fabric spilt like a river of blood down her petite form as she appeared in front of him, the material so thin he could see the outline of her hard nipples and the soft bounce of her breasts.  

Ash paused a few steps before the edge, nearly matching Henry in height whilst standing barefoot on the cold marble of the stairs. The king of the night sucked his lips in, his thick dark eyebrows crooked with the mischief of a hungry wolf. Staring at his face, Ash felt herself getting lost in the celestial constellation of his irises, different hues of blue, brown and green blended in what she thought to be the most beautiful eyes she ever saw.   

“Such a small girl,” he mocked and reached two steady hands to her small waist and gripped her tightly. Ash let out a small shriek. Henry lifted her with disturbing ease, his thumbs pressing into the bones of her ribs before he set her back on the ground in front of him. 

Towering above her, the familiar musk seeped into her lungs as she inhaled his scent. Spiced Whiskey. Ash parted her lips, her body ablaze as he leaned closer and looked at her through a hazy glance. His fingers caressed the side of her body, setting little vibrations through her skin. 

Scoffing at the expression of yearning on her face, he lifted one hand to the back of her head and slowly pulled her hair tie loose, letting the long raven waves hang loosely at the small of her back. 

“Better,” he breathed, half whispering against her lips. “Shall we?” 

Henry wrapped his long fingers around her slim wrist and led her through his house. The callous pads of his fingers pressed against the base, feeling her pulse which raced irregularly.

They arrived at what seemed like a dining room. A large table made of timber and dark glazed lava stone stood in the centre of the narrow chamber, set to a romantic dinner for two. A large bucket of ice with a bottle of champagne was placed at the base next to two plates with sirloin steaks and steamed vegetables.

“I hope you are hungry,” Henry murmured, letting go of her hand and pulling the chair behind her like a perfect gentleman. Ash registered his polite behaviour, musing at the fact that no man has ever treated her this way before. Standing behind her, his fingers latched around her bony shoulders and pushed her down forcefully. A small huff escaped her as her ass slammed onto the seat.

He moved to the other side of the table, sitting right in front of her. “My chef thought you might be a sirloin type of woman,” Henry spoke as he grabbed the large serrated steak knife in his hand. “You look like a girl who enjoys a little bit of meat in her mouth.”

Ash frowned at his insult and stared down at the juicy piece of meat on her plate. No hunger evoked in her gut. Perhaps it was the hour of the night or the fact that her stomach was turned over and paraded by a variety of different sensations.

“Do you have these dates, often?” She wondered aloud and watched as Henry began slicing himself a hefty piece of meat. 

Stabbing his fork into the steak, he paused thoughtfully and gave a small shrug. 

“Every now and then.”

Leaning onto her elbow, she stared at the man with intrigue, watching how he chewed his food ever so elegantly. Civilized beast. 

“What do you guys talk about, your hopes and dreams?” She could have hardly fought the snide in her voice.

Henry averted his eyes to hers. The young woman gave a goading smirk while her food remained untouched. Laying down his cutlery, he wiped his mouth with a small purple napkin. The gold of his signet ring blinded her eye as his hand shifted.

“What are the hopes and dreams of a stripper?” 

Even though it was meant to shame her, Ash smiled. No one has asked her what she wanted in ages. 

“To get away from the men who harmed me,” she answered sincerely.

Henry spotted the twinge in her eyes. Tiny little wrinkles formed above the bridge of his nose as his brows knit together. “Who are the men who harmed you, Ashleigh?”

There was a mixture of concern and silent rage in his eyes and even the demand in his voice was mingled with care. It left her dumbfounded. She didn’t expect a monster to look so dangerous and compassionate at once. 

Especially not for a woman he had no other intentions toward other than fucking.

“Ex-boyfriend.”

Learning the pain on her face, he picked up the knife again and spun it slowly in his hand. Tarnished by grease, the light broke on the stainless steel and shone brightly onto his eyes. 

“All you have to do is give me his name.” 

Ash’s lips parted with awe, smitten by the way his beautiful eyes darkened. Something twisted inside her, a sort of sick fascination that made blood pool at the apex of her pelvis.

“You really do kill people…” she uttered as if surprised. 

Stern silence broke across the room. Ash could hear the flutter of blood that throbbed like the flapping of wings in her ears. Henry stared back, his face giving no emotion. Why should a monster apologize for what it is? What it was born into.

“You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” Henry broke the silence, his smooth voice doing nothing to ease the rush of searing heat that raged in her core. To her horror, she pulsated with an aching will.

“Yes,” she confessed and her face beamed. It felt as if she was watching the room from outside, thrilled by the tension that rang in the air like a buzzing hornet nest.

“And yet you came here freely” Henry noted and then shook his head. “Eat your food before it gets cold.” he chided, stabbing into the sirloin while never breaking his gaze from hers.

Ash regarded his voice carefully, peering at the sharp knife that rested in his fist. By all means, she believed she should despise him; he was a vicious man, harming and exploiting others. He even abused his power over her and yet staring at his sheer intimidating size, the only thing she felt was the need to get lost in him.

“I like danger.”

In a sudden spike of bravery, the young woman jumped onto the table, her bare feet landing softly on the flat surface, tapping gently as she moved from side to side with sensual grace. Henry’s eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as she turned and glimpsed at him from above her shoulder.

“I don’t eat dinner after 7 PM.”she remarked, her voice like velvet as she slid her foot next to her plate and guided it off the table like a cat abusing its owner. The sirloin steak landed flat onto the clean marble floor, followed by the plate that smashed into large pieces.

Henry scowled, watching the young woman with growing irritation. 

“What are you doing?” he demanded, steam rising from his breath.

Ash gave him a daring look, chuckling while sliding the cutlery from her side of the table across to the sharp edge. The clattering noise of metal hitting the floor rang a chaotic sound.

“Get down from there!” Henry demanded, clenching his jaw at the sight of the rebellious woman. 

Riddled with passion her hands clutched the fiery-red fabric and lifted the hem of her dress to expose her slender ankle. She looked like a fire elemental, a tenacious dancing flame. The dress wrapped tight and then loosened with every shift of her muscles, making Henry twitch with need.

The exhilaration swarmed in her tendons like thick hot oil. This man could kill you, she reminded herself, exhaling a flush of hot air while she moved closer toward Henry’s beautiful sulking face. Her tongue made a slippery trail around her lips, delightful of the anger that bloomed in the cerulean of his irises. The changing hues whispered all the bad things he wanted to do to her.  

Damn, she wanted to be ripped apart. 

Moving sensually, her leg hung in the air, reaching her toes to tip the ice bucket to the other side. Dragging onto the stone surface, the metal screeched horridly before it rolled to the edge. 

Henry reached a quick hand, catching the bottle and the bucket seconds before it fell to the floor. Wet, cold, cubes of ice slipped on his palms before winding on the floor, leaving the sleeves of his suit tarnished with freezing water. Wringing his wet wrists, he blazed at her behaviour.

“I said: get. off. from. the. table.” he repeated himself slowly, emphasizing every word with a drop of his voice. His chest heaved and sank languidly, the thin thread of self-restraint stretching to a painful taut line.

“Or what?” Ash taunted, moving toward him with a seductive smirk on her reckless face. “You’ll kill me? You haven’t even fucked me yet.” 

Henry tilted his head at the woman who soared above him. She had a smile full of teeth and evil nymph-like giggles. The red rivers of her dress floated in the air as she tugged it between her slim fingers. 

The blood boiled in his veins as he watched her rhythmic sway. Aphrodisia spiralled in the warm honey of her eyes, her lust-swollen lips chanting a call to the hunter within him. Fisting the knife’s wooden hilt, he sustained a low growl and inhaled deeply. 

He could smell her. Fervent, thick, dripping between her thighs.

“You want to be fucked and killed, little minx?”

His long digits circled a delicate ankle and then snapped around the bone, pulling down without a care. Ash shrieked in horror as she lost her balance, finding herself sprawled with her backside hitting the polished lava stone.

Her scream still echoed between the walls.

Terrified by his aggression, Ash attempted to crawl away but Henry left no room for that. His large hand captured her neck, forcing her flat on the table while he rose to his feet and hovered above her. 

“That can be arranged,” his voice was guttural, his eyes tinged with famine-like a primal thing that sought for nothing but to feed his hunger. Clutching at the serrated knife, he brought it beneath her chin. 

Ash’s lips gaped and her eyes widened, terror flickering as the sharp edge pricked the delicate skin. The tiniest of yelps shook through her throat involuntarily, making Henry break into a sinister, dry laugh. 

“You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, have you?”

His glare bore into hers, piercing sharper than the knife that slid down the arch that connected her jaw and her throat. “You are playing games with a very dangerous man,” he warned, his digits tightening and controlling the amount of air that entered her lungs. Panic rose in her chest, her breasts perked and in her gut, something whirled uneasily. 

“Have you killed many women?” she inquired, her voice breaking into a husky whisper. Her throat felt like a drought. His musk became more prominent, intensifying as something vicious slithered into his soul, black and thick like tar. 

“Only the ones who act like brats.” he sneered, lifting the knife and then snaking the silver blade at the deep cavity of her collar bone, descending to her chest ever so slowly. Ash swallowed hard, feeling the coldness of the sharp object as it danced across her flesh while Henry pushed himself to stand between her legs.

She was strangled, spread and had a knife edged to her chest like a fresh prey. Within the horror, arousal bloomed, wet and drenching in her pit. Surrendering her will, she lifted her arms and threw them above her head. 

“How many people have you killed?” 

Henry dragged the sharp steel at the cleavage of the red dress. He released her neck and held the soft fabric tightly as he began to tear it down, slicing the blood-coloured silk apart with malice. 

“Too many to remember,” he murmured, working the knife between the fabric and watching the patches of skin being unravelled to him. “Beautiful,” he uttered as cut by cut, the little nymph was once again his to admire, her skin glowing with a soft layer of sweat, her little breasts still bearing his marks.  

Her entire body squirmed, spasming and shuddering as Henry unwrapped what was now his to play with. The sound of every rip and tear turned her blood to ice. The knife sliced all the way down until the dress was nothing and Ash was bare but for her black lace underwear.

She lifted her head to watch as Henry stood between her folded legs. His vast erection stood hard in his trousers, he gave it an aching rub and then inched closer and grabbed her knee, sliding her closer to the edge so her groin met his.

The sinful friction made them moan in perfect synergy, their collision scintillating as they ground against one another. They panted and hissed, overwhelmed at the pleasant heat that poured from their groins. Ache gathered in her loins, the desperation reminding her how weak she was, wanting him to corrupt and brutalize her body. 

“Take me!” she demanded from the crime lord, her lip a quiver as she watched him soar above her like a cruel king, her covered pelvis squirming harder. 

“Please, Henry, Sir, I want you!”

Henry gave a wolfish grin, his hand reached for her throat and squeezed tightly, he surged her toward him and took her lips in a violent, punishing kiss that claimed her breath. His tongue invaded her mouth with no pardon, setting fumes down her throat. 

He broke away with a bite on the softness of her lips.

“I am not done playing with you,” he rasped and slammed her back down the surface. Placing the blade between his teeth, arrogance painted his face as he rid himself of his top, layer by layer until he stood firm and admirable like a god. A cascade of amber lights and twilight flowed down muscles so large they mocked her smallness. His pecs were hard, squared pillows, brushed by dark fur that trailed down to his abdomen and disappeared below his trousers.

It wasn’t fair; no man should be so beautiful, especially not a civilized savage. The evil king played with all of her senses and she knelt before him, taken by everything he was.

Taking the knife out from his mouth, he pressed the brazen teeth onto her sternum. “Such sweet markings,” he growled at the bruises he gave her, letting the blade move and circle the rounded outline of her small breasts. 

“Maybe I’ll leave a few permanent lines, so you can remember what happens when you misbehave.” 

Ash let a shuddered gasp, she tried to stop herself from moving, sucking the air and holding it in but the sharp edge that traced her nipple dangerously made it impossible. “I don’t think your customers will appreciate a scarred stripper.” 

Henry chuckled dryly and shook his head, lowering the blade along the cleft of her torso and leaving a fair red trail as he grazed a layer of her skin. 

“Once I am done with you, you won’t dance at the club anymore.”

Ash sighed loudly, feeling the throb inside the yearning became unbearable. He descended below her navel, cutting dangerously close to her sacred nest. His hand sensed the heat that radiated from her lace-donned cunt. Entwining her favourite garment between his fingers, he pointed the knife between her skin and the delicate fabric and destroyed it with ease.

Ash hissed, her stomach tucked in, her eyes flared like a prey acknowledging its own demise. “Are you going to kill me?” 

“I might,” he answered without a drop of emotion, licking his lips as he saw the wetness that glistened in the dim light. “Does it excite you?” 

“Yes…” she broke, feeling him trace the swollen lines of her womanhood carefully, fold by fold, freezing cold against her heat. Once the small tip dipped into her entrance and collected silent drops of lust, she wheezed.

“But first, I’m going to fuck the brat out of you” Henry exclaimed darkly and discarded the knife on the table. His hand snapped at his belt, unbuckling hastily. His large cock stood heavy, glorious, and thick amidst an onyx sea-foam of curls. Tensed by his size, Ash squirmed backwards on the table, convinced she couldn’t take him, yet the vicious smirk on his face assured her she will. She must.

“Come here.” he chided, his hands locking around her knees, pulling her toward him and manhandling her to a position he found suitable. His height cast a dark shadow over her face as he leant down and hooked her legs over his shoulders, leaving her behind to hover in the air.

Doe eyes, lips trembling with fear yet bitten with wanton - she drove him mad, flinging herself around him with such provocation. But when she broke, she broke hard. He wanted this dance to last. Fisting his cock he lined himself in her entrance, crooning at the mewl she made as the drops of precum smeared on her clit and his head bobbed at her cavern.  

“The things I’ll do to you...” he growled and plunged inside.

The air kicked from her lungs as his meaty cock tore into her body. Hot flashes of heat swarmed from her core like ardent flames, accompanied by a broken cry that chimed in his ears like a beautiful song. The beast was thick and stone-hard between her sanctified folds, stretching her to the point of pain yet he kept sinking in, lifting her ass further in the air to gain a better path inside her.

“So bloody tight.” he grunted slowly, feeling the zealous grip of her cunt around his girth. “but taking me all the way in.”

“Fuck!” Salty tears watered the rims of her lids. Eyes snapping shut, she yelped. He was big in every sense, searing her as he bottomed in. But amidst the pain, pleasure grew, and his brutal invasion ignited warm sparks of ecstasy that licked her spine. Entwined with bliss and whisk of twinge, her fingers gripped the edge of the table, nails scratching the stone with despair while more profanities cracked from her lips. 

Henry frowned at her words, his talons clutching her thighs, leaving broken blood vessels beneath her skin. 

“Still a fucking brat, even with my cock inside you.” he chided and shook his head. His eyes did not dare to leave her face, wanting to memorize every second of how hopeless she looked with him balls-deep in her tiny little cunt.

He gave but a moment to adjust, merely for his sake. Being squeezed between her succulent walls was bliss. She felt like home, yanking him deeper like a siren drowning a sailor into the abyss.

“You were made for this,” he spoke and damn if she didn’t. Ash felt as if she was always meant to shape him, to host this man’s brazen desires. Seeking inside her soul, she wanted to hate herself, to hate him but the fire burning in her chest spoke otherwise. Their bodies fit in a purest of forms.

Slow yet rough, he began to stroke inside her, emitting breathless, low moans while he tugged her body into his hips with vigour. Droplets of sweat rolled down his brow, his wide chest steaming as he controlled her body the way he would muster a machine, rutting back and forth earnestly.

It felt as if she lost power over her body, the only sparse freedom she had was to squirm helplessly, sobbing cries of joy and delirium as fire engulfed her from within while Henry fucked into her with unrelenting fury.

His nails bit into the muscles of her legs. With every thrust, he watched dazed at the way her gut shifted with his cock thrusting deeper inside. Like a predator rutting its prey between his fangs, he shook and shifted her body on occasion. There she was, completely at his dominion, despaired yet aching for more. 

And more he gave her, fucking her raw like a touched-depraved animal.

“Please don’t stop!” she cried for him, feeling the heat spilling from her gut, tinders tingling from her seam and through the threshold of her body. The fire arose from her apex, inferno spreading as she fell intoxicated to the sight of the evil man who exploits her, using her like a fucktoy to fulfil his needs. The muscles of his torso flexed inward, his chest heaved and he never broke eye contact, staring right into her soul while he filled her body. 

He was beautiful, and he was hers for this single moment. 

Bound in a primal union that burnt hotter than the sun.

With the plunge of his wet cock against her cervix, the flames spread to each corner of her soul until she felt consumed by the rapture, coming into a quivering mess. Howling cries broke from her lips. The tighter she got, the harder he slammed into her, continuing to fuck her through her orgasm, ignoring the contractions that demanded to suck him dry. 

Furrowing his brow he battered furiously into her, his balls slapping against her cunt. Lewd noise of flesh slapping sounded in the room, accompanied by Henry’s groans. “You want me to come inside your cunt?” he rasped, fucking her brutally, his thighs breaking into her ass with every loud thrust.

“Yes, sir!” she answered pathetically as a second orgasm began to ignite itself quickly. Henry’s fingers dug into her thighs, pulling her until he was buried balls-deep. She felt him swell hot and thick between her tremoring walls and with one last thrust, they came together. Henry’s shuddering grunt vibrated through the room as he released himself hot and thick inside her.

Ash gasped at the heat that washed inside her womb, slumping back as another hot wave of pleasure washed through her while he reached hand to pump his cock with a long, slow sigh, emptying whatever was left in him. 

Finally, he pulled out and crouched above her with his muscular arms locking her beneath his body. 

The sight of his seed trickling down from her swollen cunt felt almost as good as fucking her. Knowing he left a piece of him inside. Still panting, she shifted up slightly, feeling the burning mess between her thighs. Henry swallowed another grunt as his breath shortened and then reached to cradle her jaw, his coarse thumb grazing her lips. 

“Now that I’m done with you I suppose I can kill you.”  

Ash stared into his steel-blue eyes, shuddering with both effort and terror that pinched her heart. Her body tried to crawl into itself and the cold chuckle that rumbled in his throat did nothing but strengthen her fear.

He shook his head and then took her in his arms, lifting her with ease. One hand glided down her spine and the other held her waist, forcing her to wrap both her arms and legs around him for support.

“It was a joke, sweetheart.” He swallowed. 

“I’m not done with you.”

Silence fell between them, fulfilled with nothing but the wheeze of air that surged through their mouths. Hugging his neck, Ash stared at him mesmerized by the calm beauty that he became, suddenly looking vulnerable. Defying her better judgment, she kissed the curve of his cheek and traced the salty sweat with her tongue. 

To her great surprise, it seemed to calm him. 

Softness was rare, nearly foreign. The others were always too frightened to do anything but let him fuck them but she was tough even when she stood no chance, she dared to give a predator some solace when others would flee. And this combination of tenderness and defiance was just what he lacked. He imagined that once she’ll trust him, the games between them will grow even more outrageous. 

His fingers moved to clutch her jaw, his eyes piercing into hers. “You are not going to work at the club anymore,” he warned.

“But...” she began to reason with him foolishly only to be answered by the shake of his head and a forbidding smile.

“You are mine now, darling and I don’t share.”   

Tightening his grip around her, he began to march out of the dining room and then toward the stairs, his hand holding possessively over her spine. Ash kept her lips sealed and laid her head onto his large shoulder, allowing herself to relax into his body. Being in this captivity felt nice.

Little did she know, she was the first woman to stay the night in his lair.

Enjoying the way she clutched onto him, he promised himself she will be the only exception. 

________________________________________________________

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill x OFC #AU!Henry Cavill #mob!henry cavill #MobBoss!Henry Cavill #Mafia Boss Henry Cavill #henry cavill x reader

[wouldpollyapprove]

Tortured, Broken, Brave

Request: imagine tommy accidentally blinding the reader- like she scared him and he just whips around and slices her- idk i’ve been thinking about it and i kinda want a request?

Requested by Anonymous

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: Violence, mention of war. mention of ptsd

A/N: I was so torn with this. I love the idea because Tommy is such a complex character when it comes to emotions. You may think he’ll react one way but it’ll be the total opposite. I just had such a hard time deciding on if I wanted it to be a blurb or a headcanon. In the end, I think it’s more of a oneshot an pretty pleased with it.

Masterlist

It had been a year since the war that tore apart the world ended. A year since the men who were left standing returned home. And it had been a year since Y/n had greeted the love of her life, the shell of the man who had left four years earlier.

Like everyone who protected the home-front, Y/n knew that Tommy wouldn’t be the same once he returned home. As it was expected, she wasn’t surprised by the sleepless nights. In the dark hours of the evening, she’d sit beside her husband, give him the comfort he needed, whether he wanted to be held or just sit in silence next to her. Whatever he needed, Y/n gave him. Over time, Tommy began to heal, or so he led everyone to believe. 

  Stepping back into the family business, Thomas Shelby pretended to be a bronze statue: strong and mighty. With no scratches or dents to ruin his polished exterior, many thought the man was untouchable. And, for the most part, he was. His whole family could see that the war tortured the happy boy that lived inside him, leaving him battered and broken. The once happy personality that was evident in his smile and bright eyes, ran for the hills, hiding in a place where it couldn’t be found. The man Tommy used to be was never to return, a fact that Y/n would have to get used to.

Y/n shut the door behind her quickly in a daft attempt to keep the cold air out. It would still seep in under the door and through the thin window panes, but she didn’t like to think about that. Unwrapping her scarf, she hung it on the coat rack, silently wondering if her husband was home. Tommy was at the betting shop when she’d left for the market, that had been hours ago but the place had become his second home since his return and wouldn’t have surprised her if he was going over the books in his office. Y/n took the basket of produce she’d collected to the kitchen before setting off to find Tommy.

Silently, she crept through the house, searching for a sign of life. Usually, it wasn’t hard to tell if he was home. Tommy liked to perch himself in the drawing-room with a cigarette and paperwork, but as she stood in the archway, her husband couldn’t be seen. Moving along, Y/n walked pasted the guest bedroom. It had been turned into a makeshift office and, down the road, it would hopeful become a nursery. Taking a few steps back, Y/n caught sight of light seeping under the office door. As it was ajar, she didn’t bother knocking, though she knew it would have been best, a lightly pushed against the wood with her knuckles. Her footsteps were absorbed by the wood flooring, not a sound echoing through the room as she approached the man hunched over the small desked. 

“You wor-” Y/n started, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder before she was violently cut off, the feeling of flesh being torn as cool metal sliced threw her tender skin. Adrenaline pumping threw her viens, she stumbled back, clutching her cheek. In front of her, Tommy stood, wide-eyed and horrified, with a blade, crimson red in color as her blood dripped onto the floor.

The blade clattered against the hardwood, Tommy’s face turning an alarming shade white. His hands shook as he held them up, “What have I done?” he muttered to himself, but his wife caught it.

In any other circumstance, Y/n would have fled the room, searching for safety, but she saw no danger from where she stood. Slowly she lowered her blood-stained hands and stepped towards the broken man in front of her like he was a wounded animal. “Tommy, hey, it’s alright. Just a cut,” she smiled at him, hoping it would bring back some color in him. It did not. “It’ll mend in a day or two.”

He shook his head, raking a hand threw his already disheveled hair. “No, no it’s not. It not.” He shook his head once more and walked past her and into the hall. The expression, that of a man that believed he deserved the noose, brought tears to Y/n’s eyes. She knew that Tommy often wished the war had taken him, but to see it written clearly on his face made her want to drown him in love and never let the nasty world touch him.

Alone in her thoughts, Y/n was left to tend to her own wound as Tommy left the house, drowning in misery. Tommy had never raised a hand to her, something he swore he would never do, he was likely walking along the canal, kicking himself for his actions. Knowing him like the back of her hand, Y/n knew he thought she’d only disregarded what he’d done because she was trying to make him feel better, feel less like a monster. But that wasn’t the case. As Y/n whipped a damp cloth across her face, she forgave him.

The war had left him empty and Y/n knew it would take time for him to become whole again. It was foolish of her to scare him like that, his reaction was on her whether he saw it that way or not. All she wanted was for him to get better, to allow himself to heal, that couldn’t be done if he feared what he was capable of.

That night, Tommy didn’t come home, leaving a cold spot next to Y/n where he was supposed to be. Y/n didn’t lay eyes on him until the next morning at work where he had suddenly become an expert at avoiding her. She didn’t try to seek him out, knowing he needed space, so she kept to her desk and tried to do her work.

“What’s going on?” Polly asked, leaning against Y/n’s desk as the young woman typed up a letter. 

Y/n raised a brow, not lifting her eyes from the work in front of her. “What do you mean?” she asked even though she knew.

Polly folded her arms across her chest and glanced at her nephew, who was pacing in his office. “You have a cut on your cheek, Tommy has practically locked himself in his office, and you’ve been at your desk all day. You can’t tell me something didn’t happen.”

A sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in her chair. It was silly of her to believe people wouldn’t notice. On a normal day, Y/n would usually do her work in her husband’s office as he did his own. Tommy liked to have her near, it calmed him, bringing the restless man peace. Her desk was often abandoned except for the few times a meeting was taking place that she wasn’t a part of. To have her sit at her desk all day was virtually unheard of. As the office was practically empty, almost everyone was out for lunch, Y/n took a deep breath and looked at the ground, ashamed with herself. “I snuck up on Tommy last night. I didn’t mean to, didn’t think anything of it, and it scared him and he cut me.”

A gasp split the older woman’s lips, “He cut you?” her words were laced with disgust causing Y/n to cringe. 

“It’s not his fault, Pol. He’s been jumpy and he has night terrors. I should have expected this,” Y/n admitted, resting her head in her hands. “He was horrified with what he’d done and… he felt, practically ran out the door and didn’t come home. Now, he won’t look me in eye and I’m afraid of what he’s doing to himself because of this.”

Polly sighed, taking a moment to think. She’d dealt with plenty of men in her life, drunks, gamblers, players, cheaters, but she’d never dealt with men as broken as the Great War had created. She wanted to be angry at her nephew, Thomas knew better, but she knew with the state of his mind, it was often hard for him to enemy from ally. “Talk to him,” she shrugged. “Force him to listen to you, God knows you’re the only one who gets threw to him.”

“What do I say?”

Pushing herself off the desk, Polly smiled at her. “If you love him, you’ll know exactly what to say.”

Y/n rolled her eyes. Her husband’s aunt was a wise woman but she wasn’t one to give a straight answer. But she did as suggested and stood from her desk, pushed the wrinkles out of her skirt, and tapped her fingers against Tommy’s office door. Before an answer could be given, she let herself in, the owner shocked to see her enter. 

“I’m busy, Y/n,” Tommy informed her, peering at her threw his lashes before moving his eyes back to his work. Stepping closer, his wife stood in front of his desk and waited for him to glance up at her once more. He huffed in frustration and gave in, dropping his pen and sitting up to look at her. “What?”

“You didn’t come home last night, where’d you go?”

He shook his head, a sad smile present on his lips. “Does it matter? Why would you care where I’ve been when I did that to you?” He gestured to the cut on her cheek. 

It was Y/n’s turn to shake her head. Coming around the desk, she moved his chair so he was facing her and cupped his face in her hands, leaning over him. “It matter’s because you, Thomas Shelby, you stubborn arse, are my husband and I love you. I worry about you every fucking day!” she exclaimed, locking her y/e/c with his blue ones. 

“But I…” he trailed off, tears pooling in his eyes. 

Standing between his legs, Y/n pulled him against her, letting his head rest against her stomach. “But nothing. What happened last night was unavoidable, it was bound to happen. You aren’t as tough as you’d like the world to believe and you need to stop acting like it. I’m here,” she petted his hair as his tears soaked her blouse. “I’m here for you and I’ll help with whatever you need.”

Tommy pulled away, eyes red and puffy. “What if it happens again, Y/n? I can barely live with what I did to you. What if we have children and that happens? What if they think I’m a monster?”

Heart aching, Y/n wished she could absorb all his pain, take it away before any more damage could be done to him. “Hey, don’t think like that,” she frowned, caressing his cheek. “Our children will love you just as I do. They will think you’re a brave man, who fought for them when they were just a twinkle in his eyes.”

Letting his wife hold him once more, Tommy wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry,” he said, voice muffled against the material of her shirt.

Y/n smiled, “I thought Thomas Shelby didn’t apologize?” she teased. Her husband pulled away a little, flashing her that smile that she fell in love with all those years ago, and pulled her into his lap, a chorus of giggles escaping her lips.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he shook his head before peppering her neck with kisses.

“That’s the idea.”

*~~*~~*

Let me know if you like to be added to any of the taglists and feedback is always apprecaiated.

Permanent: @amirahiddleston @haphazardhufflepuff @woahitslucyylu @mzcrazy2 @lovemissyhoneybee @multi-fandom-iimagines @tarafaithe @jenepleurepasbaby @fernweh-fangirl @the-anxious-youth @theshelbyclan @wtfdanness @chloeforde @futuristicslimemongerbanana @auds24 @lucillethings @nemesis729 @sirkekselord @princesscornbread @i-volunteer-for-finnick @iwillboilyourteeth @anyasthoughts @ellieemais

Peaky Blinders: @simonsbluee @queenofmankind

Thomas Shelby: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @creativemayhems

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinder imagine #the peaky blinders #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagines #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shleby imagines #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby #tom shelby imagine #tom shelby imagines #tom shelby x reader

[cherryblossomtease]

Chapter 7

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Last years collection my ass you think holding your head high as you slip your hand around Zemo’s arm. This dress is so killer you could slay a few of the rich old dragons watching as the Baron escorts you into the ballroom.

You have to give him credit, not that he’s hurting for it but the man has taste.

The dress is black, long sleeved and stops mid-thigh. The cut of the shoulders is exaggerated just enough to draw attention. But what does it for you—the little bit of something special that no one else can see— is the fact that he had Maureen do some extra tailoring and now you know why he wanted you in this particular dress.

When Zemo stood behind you earlier at the apartment and zipped you up, the high turtleneck slowly closed around your throat mimicking the Baron’s own firm hold on your neck. You’d gasped with a fleeting sensation of panic but calmed when he kissed the spot behind your ear, and grabbed your hips, pressing his erection against your ass as he inhaled the scent of your hair. His muffled moan had vibrated through your shoulders and for the first time you realized the level of restraint his particular kind of kink required on his part too and you felt strangely bonded to him through your wonderful suffering. His lips brushed the curve of your ear as he’d whispered… “So that you don’t forget who you belong to.”

After that he’d given you permission to take off the underwear saying that the dress was enough and you’d thanked him, happy to be free of those perfectly evil things.

So now, you’re walking through this opulent ballroom collared and claimed and thankful to be so cared for by a man you can trust with your body enough to let him do these things to you.

“Remember to stay in character.” He says, eyes scanning the crowd “We can not let them know who we are.”

“Of course…Stavro” You say really emphasizing the fake name you deiced he needed on the ride over. Having given up on convincing you it wasn’t necessary he just laughs and kisses your temple before leading you further in.

You love to see him happy even when it’s fleeting and you steal a glance at Zemo in his dark blue suit and crisp white shirt, all of it tailored to the last stitch. He looks Breathtaking as usual… if you could breathe. You run your fingers down the center of your collar and flush feeling a resurgence of that deep connection. You are his and he is most certainly yours. It’s a good thing too, because this place is crawling with horny old men…

The ballroom of this grand hotel has been set up for a casino themed fundraiser. The sort where getting in cost a yacht. Zemo however seemed to have little trouble faking his way onto the list— at least you think he lied— and now you realize you haven’t done anything like this in forever, and certainly not with stakes this high.

The point of being here (as Zemo explained in the car) is to get this guy Polinsky to either give up what he knows about the serum Zemo is tracking down or get his hotel key to search his room. Either works, one is more desirable than the next but When Zemo’s target turns out to be the first man to openly flirt with you, the Baron lets the fates decide and whispers “Go with it”

Acting as though you aren’t here together, he goes down to the side of the craps table, pretending to be interested in the gambling while watching you two.

Polinsky is loud and crude and you really think you might shove the dice in his eye if he looks at you like that again, but Zemo is still calm and collected so you continue to play along. When Zemo motions for you to drink, you take one off the servers tray and share it with Polinksy who probably doesn’t need much more.

Just when you think this is going no where and you’re tired of being used as a ploy, Zemo does his thing.

He brings up Polinksy’s accent and it’s revealed that he’s Sokovian. They become fast friends and after a few more wins, the target is telling the Baron everything, unfortunately it’s not what he needs to hear and you can tell that he’s starting to grow impatient.

You’ve only ever seen what happens when Zemo is sick of you not listening to his commands, and it's cruel in the best way. So what happens in the real world when a dangerous, genius man with a military background is tired of waiting?

When Polinksy tells you to blow on his dice for luck and casually reaches to get a good handful of your ass as you do, you know you’re about to find out.

Zemo moves without much effort or thought, you see it and spot the instinct to protect what’s his immediately. His grip on Polinsky’s arm is shocking and the man’s face goes red instantly with drunken outrage.

Jaw clenched and eyes wide, you see that Zemo is ready to break Polinsky’s arm, but you quickly step between them and lay a hand on Zemo’s shoulder. “No.” You mouth shaking your head. “Follow my lead” You say low enough so that only he can hear.

Zemo gives you an intrigued head tilt, glances up at the man one last time then flings his arm away. “She’s not available.” He snaps at the man who is more annoyed than ready for a fight.

“Forgive me for speaking without asking sir.” You bow your head to Zemo then look up at Polinsky. “He likes to be the one to say when and how I am touched. But he let’s other men do much more than that for the right price…”

Polinksy quickly catches on and shoots a look at the Baron.

Zemo understands instantly and straightens his head. “Apologies, I should have made it clear. She can be yours, but not without me there to insist she be compliant.” He reaches and slides his finger down the side of your face, his hand going around the back of your neck. His thumb strokes your collar and you lift your chin and shut your eyes so that Polinsky can see what sort of situation he’s being presented with.

Someone yells  for Polinsky to roll the dice which he does. The small crowd goes wild with another win, but the three of you stay silent.

"How much?”

“Six thousand.”

“Done”

“To watch. Eight to touch.”

He frowns, but when Zemo smacks your ass and you give a little yelp, Polinsky nearly drools. “Sold.”

*

You’re standing in the middle of the hotel room. Zemo is in the chair in the corner and Polinksy is sitting on the bed.

You’re scared, wondering how far this will go, but one look over at him and you know Zemo would never sell you like this. Not really. He’ll protect you.

“Turn around and bend over.” Polinksy says unzipping his pants.

You glance at Zemo who gives the nod to obey.

You do and you can hear the man moaning when he see’s the line of your pale pink underwear.

“Spread.” He growls standing.

The blood is rushing to your head as you look over to Zemo not bothering to hide your fear.

The Baron is quietly standing up. You reach back and lay your hands flat on your ass and start to, but it’s too much. You don’t know this man.

“I said spread!” Polinksy shouts and you shut your eyes half expecting to feel his hand make contact with your skin, but it doesn’t come.

You quickly stand in time to see Zemo grab his arm and punch the man once before kicking him down and onto the floor. You back away wide eyed, your heart racing and you pull your dress down.

Polinksy is groaning and reaching up as if to grab hold of something but Zemo doesn’t give him a second chance. With a swinging kick to the head, he knocks the man out and you are stunned to see what the Baron is capable of.

“ I needed him off his guard completely. I would not have let him touch you.” Zemo says still looking down at Polinsky who is out cold. He turns away from the gross sight to find you.

You nod but you’re shaken. “ Please, just get what you need and let’s go.”

For a change he listens to you and you watch him rip the room apart until he finds what he’s looking for which seem to be a card, with a name on it? He stares down at the object in his hand, distracted only by the pinging of Polinsky’s phone on the floor.

When Zemo looks down at it, you see the color drain from his face.

“Time to go.” He says grabbing your arm and you try to get him to tell you what’s wrong but he won’t listen or talk, he just moves and pulls you along with him until you’re back downstairs and going through the chaos of the casino.

When he stops, you look up at him trying to figure out what the problem is. “Are we being followed?”

He doesn’t answer, it looks like he’s waiting, or perhaps getting his timing right. You know the latter is true when he falls into step with two waitresses carrying drink trays, with you still held firm.

As they turn to go towards the bar, he goes the other way heading for the doors and the two of you are outside and practically running towards the waiting car.

“Drive” Zemo says once you’re safely inside.

As you speed off, you look over at him. The night took an unexpected turn but you made it out, doesn’t that count for something. “Didn’t you find what you were looking for?” You ask.

He doesn’t look at you, just nods and looks out the window.

You haven’t seen him like this before —wait— yes you have. “It’s all right. I’m sure everything will fall into place now.” He doesn’t say anything, and you, for the first time don’t know what to do. He reminds you very much of that silent, broken man he was eight years ago.

Giving him space, you sit back and look out your own window until you feel his hand lay over yours on the seat and you spin your head around surprised but relieved.

He holds your hand tight and raises it up, kissing your fingers before pulling you over.

“I could have killed him.” He says starring ahead angrily. He is stroking your arm gently but you know what these hands can do. “And you…”

He looks down and you see the way his anger fades, but he holds onto it long enough to say “You broke rule one.”

You laugh a little and shrug. “I knew I could get you into his room.”

“Perhaps don’t offer yourself to strange men next time?”

“You went along with it while it was working!”

“I did, but I didn’t like it.”

“Me either.” You say looking off.

Zemo hooks his finger around your chin turning your head to face him again and he slips his hand up to cradle your cheek “You, are an extraordinary woman. And I—am lucky to have you.”

You melt in his arms trying your best not to profess your true feelings and wonder what’s stopping you, but before you can let the thoughts progress, he kisses your head and raises your chin a little more to look deep into your eyes. “You will take off your dress.” He says softly and you realize he’s got a hold of your zipper with the fingers of his other hand. “You will lay down in the middle of the bed on your stomach and you will wait for me.” He whispers in your ear as he pulls the closure down to the center of your shoulder blades and stops. “Understood?”

You nod “Yes Baron.”

He does that soft, deep moan that is equal parts pleased and aroused as he looks you over, smoothing a wayward strand of hair from your face, his brows knitting together with concentration before relaxing again. “I will thrash the memory of that man from you until you remember that you belong only to me.”

#baron zemo #zemo fatws #zemo x reader #zemo x you #baron zemo fanfiction #zemo smut #anticipation #submisivegirl #strong female characters #yes sir #yes baron #jelousy #he adores you

[firefly-in-darkness]

The Immortal and the Soldier

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes

Summary →  Monsters live in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. A past never forgotten comes back to haunt Bucky Barnes and Y/N succumbs to her despicable desires.

Word Count → 5.9k (yeah this is a big boy...)

Warnings → 18+, Angst, violence, death, blood, mental health, vampires/monsters, smut.

Beta → the wonderful @princessmisery666​​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep and this came into my head so made a couple of notes in a doc and here we are! Oh and it took @fandomfic-galore​, @kalesrebellion​ & @daydream3r-xo​ not even a minute to convince me to post this now...

Undisclosed Location, Italy - 1943

Moonlight cast an eerie blue-grey around the now quiet campsite. The tall trees that had long ago shed their leaves, expelled frightful shadows as their bodies swayed in the cold icy breeze. Roots like skeletal fingers scratching at the earth, clawing their way to the depths, and clinging to their life source.

Y/N pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the meeting parts in her fist. The tears had long frozen to her face in the two-minute walk across the camp. Her scrunched expression stretching the icy remnants of her pain, now physical in the breeze pin pricking her cheeks and distracting her momentarily from the ache in her heart.

She focused on her steps, unable to see further than the ground below. As much as the moon allowed, she was able to avoid icy patches and twigs, trying not to make a sound. She crept away from Sergeant Barnes' tent to her own. Away from the man who had turned distant and cruel in tongue after his release from Hydra’s clutches.

Y/N had seen the way he’d eyed Agent Carter, how his sultry smirk had hidden the darkness in his once brilliant blues. She knew he'd suffered, had tried to talk to him tonight, to distract his thoughts but her advances had been unwelcomed and fully discouraged for the future.

James regretted what had happened between them. He'd said so in many ways and confirmed it with his icy glare. Y/N had managed to escape without showing him a single tear. But while she crept away her chest heaved, and she was soon a tumbling mess of sobs at the realisation he was not coming to chase her down, to pull her back into his quarters and wrap her in the warmth of his body.

A shiver ran through her body and she glanced to check her surroundings, all the tents looked the same. She held in a small gasp when there were none to be found. She’d strayed too far; she was no longer in the campsite. The trees denser and darker, and after turning in a full circle there was no path in sight. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there; didn’t know the route she had taken or how to get back.

A puff of mist formed at each pant, white clouds in the almost-black. Fear gripped her chest, her heart thumped against her ribcage. Panic set in and Y/N scrambled between the trunks and over fallen trees. Her hair caught in the low hanging branches, pulling it out of its once neat style. Stockings soaked to the knee; toes numb in the leather lace-up pumps.

Her mind raced as her feet pounded against the thin layer of snow. She spun around in hope of finding a clearing, a source of light. Anything. The sounds of the nocturnal creatures; howls, hoots and animal cries filled the woodland. Tears rolled down her cheeks while she gasped and spluttered searching for an exit.

She stopped when she could no longer breathe. Preparing to call out for help. Someone would hear her surely. She panted for breath, trying to draw in enough air and calm her panicking brain to be able to shout.

Silence. 

Her ears rang with the sound of nothing, not even the drift of the wind through the previously creaking branches. There was no ruffle of leaves or calls of the animals. Complete silence, an unnerving and fearful sound causing Y/N to hear the blood pumping through her ears.

A crunch behind her. She turned slowly, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she hoped to see a saviour. Even in the darkness and little amount of moonlight, she was able to see the silhouette of a figure; tall and lithe.

As if a spell was cast, she unknowingly walked towards the stranger. A sense of calm washed away the pain and fear that clung to her heavy heart with each step. The shadow stepped out into the stream of moonlight; the stranger had high cheekbones, set on a razor-sharp jaw, framed by long dark hair.

Y/N was rooted to the spot while the creature circled her, a predator, and its prey. Wide eyes, unblinking away from hers until they were no longer in view. Her heart hammered in her chest, the calm disappearing into a panic. Monsters lurked in the dark, under the bed and in closets. Monsters lived in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. She knew that’s what he was, a monster, she understood the danger, but she remained under his spell.

“Run.”

The snow slipped under her feet, the trees a blur as tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to outrun the stranger. Y/N couldn’t hear any other footfall so darted behind a tree, back resting against it. She tried to calm herself, but nothing helped quieten the panic taking over her soul. 

It was almost silent apart from her laboured breaths. She glanced around the trunk but there was nothing there. Y/N sunk back against the trunk, closing her eyes. Her eyes shot open at the sound of a twig snapping and she was face to face with the stranger.

His red eyes glared while a ravenous grin around perfectly white teeth. The monster lurched forward and latched its mouth onto Y/N’s neck, she felt nothing other than relief. Everything slowed as Y/N fell to the snowy floor, no feeling of the ice seeping onto her clothes, over her skin and into her bones. Heartbeat dropping, as blood trickled down her neck until her world went blacker than the sky above. Her heartbeat stopped. 

Y/N’s eyes flicked open in haste, searching for her bloodied saviour. He gracefully pulled her onto her feet, yet no words passed between them. Only his tongue darting out to clean her blood from his lips. She looked at his fiery eyes, the ones reflecting her own unique colour and for the first time, she felt alive. 

Brooklyn, United States of America - 2024

The bar was upmarket, the kind with expensive drinks and dark velvet decor. The gothic theme was eaten up by the patrons; the black candles melting down various bottles, skulls and ravens dotted around the tables and shelves, and the ornate mirrors adorning the walls. Even the staff fit the part in their costumes as they waited on the tables and served cocktails in ornate goblets; the ones that looked like they were made in a laboratory rather than a bar.

Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and it had nothing to do with the bar’s theme. There sat on a stool at the end of the dark wood bar, Y/N was talking to the barman. Of all the places he’d been, all the time he’d been alive, he never thought he’d lay his eyes on Y/N again. 

His mind flurried with memories of the past; soft and tender moments sullied by his demons on full display that frightful night he’d finally returned to camp from Hydra’s grasp. His words echoed around his head; he’d never forgotten them. He dismissed her from his tent, full of rage at Hydra and anxiousness for his future. Let alone the future he could provide for Y/N. 

Regret and shame had stopped him from following her out into the camp, rooted to the spot on his cot bed as if by some supernatural force. Bucky had overheard the hushed whispers of the other nurses, but they always kept an eye out and stopped as soon as they noticed his presence. 

He hadn’t seen Y/N since that night, hadn’t expected her to look for him either, she respected herself and that was one of the many things he had admired. And now, eighty years later, it was as if magic had brought back his angel. 

The woman’s style was different from that of the forties, but it was unmistakably Y/N. It must be her. Or was it just Bucky’s guilt and mission for redemption causing the hope fluttering in his chest as his eyes remained transfixed on the ethereal beauty at the bar. 

Y/N’s face hadn’t gained a single wrinkle, her skin was flawless. She had darker eyes, yet it still held that glint of sass and taunt that he had once adored. It must be her, who else could it be? A descendant? Maybe she left Italy and settled down, started a family?

Bucky shook his head, an attempt to drown out the voices getting louder in his thoughts and joined his fellow Avengers in the veiled VIP booth. He tried to enjoy their company and the drinks that kept flowing regardless of his tolerance, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts quiet and his eyes continued to wander across the room.

A past long forgotten had come back to haunt and consume his thoughts with a compelling game of ‘what if…’. It would be a miracle if it was Y/N perched at the bar. But what if it was all a trick of the mind, an apparition, a spectre. A remnant of Hydra’s control triggered by something he was unaware of. 

It was nearly a century ago, and, well, how had she survived this long without a blemish or sign of ageing? And if she did know who he was, would she know about him? The soldier, the weapon he was made into, the broken ghost of a man she once knew. 

Physically, Bucky was no longer in Hydra's grasp and the triggers no longer affected him. But mentally, he would never forget Hydra or the Winter Soldier; what they did to James Buchanan Barnes and what he did for them. He remembered every victim, every intimate way he tortured and neutralised targets without question.

Was this woman an omen in the disguise of a miracle? A new technique for Hydra to get into his head, to break him, to control him again.

Questions and memories were quashed as the next round of drinks were provided. The group continued to bond, as per their boss’ request. Revisiting Brooklyn was on his long list of ventures after Shuri finished removing the trigger words, but then he got sucked into the soul stone only to be brought back to fight another war.

Bucky’s thoughts drifted to the dame that had captured his heart during a different war, a different era. The very similar-looking woman, still seated at the bar, sipped her drink, and batted away unwanted attention with a simple shake of the head or her leather-clad hand. 

It was late October, but it wasn’t that cold yet, and being inside shouldn’t have warranted that attire. Though, they looked expensive. Unless it’s a fashion statement, Bucky scoffed and flexed his visible Vibranium fingers. You once did the same thing; to hide.

Luckily, from his spot, she couldn’t see him as he peered through a gap in the black lace curtains of the closed-off area. She was fond of the barman, he continued to return to her end of the bar and immediately scared off the patrons in her vicinity, they continued to talk and laugh with one another while he made the concoctions listed on the extensive cocktail menu.

It is her. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest, blood pumped adrenaline through his body as he noticed the way she laughed, how she tucked a loose strand of hair back in place and as she sipped her drink and her lips curled around the glass.

Bucky ignored his teammates' conversations, he was completely enraptured by Y/N. Unsure of whether to go over and talk to her or to watch from a distance, to get indisputable evidence it was her. The woman turned towards the VIP area, looked straight at him, and nodded to the seat beside her. 

He downed the vodka, the spirit scratching at his throat, out of habit and not to give him Dutch courage and left the VIP area. He ignored the jeers and whistles from his fellow Avengers. His body hummed with uncertainty and excitement. A nervous twitch sent his hand through his locks, his fingers flailed at his neck at the sudden reminder that it was not shoulder-length anymore.

Y/N had spotted James the moment he stepped through the doors, the mirrors behind the bar had given her the best position to scope out the venue and its patrons. Her body tensed at the sight of him, only easing as his smile grew and he walked along the parallel wall with a group of friends.

Even though she had looked away, Y/N had felt his gaze on her and couldn’t help but almost mewl at the thought of him recognising her. The potential conflict going through his head was whetting her appetite for destruction. 

Of course, she knew exactly who he was, who he had become. Unbeknownst to him, she’d crossed his path several times over the last century. She knew all about his time as Hydra’s fist, his escape and subsequent time as a fugitive, and even later in Wakanda where she’d slipped past the advanced technology without detection. Their defences were good, but they were only ever fearful of living enemies, they didn’t know to look for the dead.

She had been curious, he was alive and well, and hardly aged. Admittedly, at first, she was jealous that he had found a way to live beyond his years without the same insatiable thirst for blood she had. But as she watched him from afar, she realised the monsters that he battled daily were penance for his type of immortality.

There were moments that she’d considered freeing James, save him from the curse set upon him by Hydra. But she knew that no amount of compulsion could completely shake the things that they had done to him. It was deeper than the surface levels that a young vampire could manipulate. Eventually, she hadn’t needed to when she came across his familiar scent in Africa, tracking it down to the hut in the hidden kingdom.

Y/N had kept tabs on him once the demons had been removed from his mind by the Wakanda Princess. The years that passed had done nothing to quell the scorch of his rejection. She had bided her time before making her presence known. A cunning smile adorned her ruby red lips as she heard his approaching steps, even over the now heavily crowded bar.

“Old’ Fashioned, please. And whatever the lady’s having.” James’ voice hadn’t changed, he was still a Brooklyn boy, even after all these years.

“Cosmopolitan,” Y/N responded with a wink at the bartender which didn’t go unnoticed by James though she turned her body towards him. “And may I ask the name of the person that has offered to buy me a drink?”

“You don’t know who I am?” James smirked, yet Y/N could see through his facade. He had a soft blush on his cheeks and the confident attitude was a mask.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and brows raised at the response, “That sounds a little pretentious don’t you think? Thank you,” she nodded to the bartender and lifted her drink in the direction of James before sipping at the pink liquid, “And to you.”

James handed over the bills and leant against the bar, his Vibranium hand swirling the golden liquid, “It’s Bucky. Well, James. But my friends call me Bucky.”

“Nice to meet you Jam-” 

“-I don’t mean to sound rude,” James interrupted, “but you look very familiar, have we met before?”

“I assure you that we haven’t, I’d remember someone called Bucky.” Y/N giggled behind the glass while she took a sip. She kept her eyes trained on him, sending a different message to the laughter.

Surely James didn’t believe she was who he thought she was, couldn’t believe she was still alive after all this time. But then again, she hadn’t expected him to be either. 

“No problem doll.” 

His lips met the rim of the glass, but his eyes stayed on hers as she had done to him before. Though his eyes didn’t show any kind of the confidence he once had, he seemed quite the opposite, shy and maybe a little bit embarrassed at the slip of an endearing nickname. 

Yet, the nickname sent a shiver over Y/N’s skin, goosebumps running over her flesh before pooling as butterflies in her stomach. She brushed her hands down the skirt of her dress, removing imaginary lint. An old habit from when she was human; when she was uncertain about what to do next.

The game she was playing wasn’t going to plan. She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming. She hoped he’d forgotten about her, a distant memory from a dreadful time he’d rather forget. But something must have sparked for him to approach her. Perhaps he hoped to take her home and have his way with her as he had once before, make a new, better, memory of her. 

This stalled her plans, James remembered, and that changed everything. It stopped her from being able to give him hell for how her life changed that night, to break him in ways that would make Hydra seem like playground bullies. She wanted to make him pay for all that she had become.

“Do I get to know your name?” James asked, a slight tilt of his eyebrow as he captured Y/N’s attention once more.

“Y/N.” She offered her gloved hand, which he took in his warm one

Alarm crossed James’ features and at the same time, the shock made Y/N pull her hand away. She had hoped the coldness of her skin wouldn’t penetrate the material, but it seemed where she ran cold, James ran hot. But now that Y/N had felt his warmth, she wanted to feel it against her icy skin. It had only been a small taste, but it was enough for her to want to know what she’d feel like under his touch.

Now that James was in front of her, Y/N’s resolve faltered. The ploy to see him suffer at her hands, to hurt him for how she became a blood lustful beast, was no longer at the forefront of her mind. James enchanted her as if the last eighty years hadn’t happened, a small sparkle in his eye, a crook of his lips and she was once again wrapped around his little finger. 

Y/N kept her face neutral as she watched him study her while they made small talk. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the charade was over, that he’d ask her if she was Y/N Y/L/N. The woman that he had made love to during the war, had spent every second with when he was not on duty, and, ultimately, broken her heart.

“How?” James placed the empty glass down onto the bar, turning to face her fully in the seat.

“How what?” She played ignorant, holding off on bursting this bubble for as long as she could.

Y/N had indulged in James’ presence, her own unbeating heart was no longer aching with him so close. The idea of him leaving once again made her mentally squirm. She’d created a vengeful plan from her pain and was now living in a nightmare of being unable to go through with it.

“Did they get you?” James asked, quietly and softly, his hand covering her own that rested on the edge of the bar.

“No James, they didn’t. But another monster did.” Y/N jaw ticked, and she pulled her hand away, hopping down from the bar and looking straight at him. “Please don’t follow me, you’ll regret it.”

The streets of Brooklyn weren’t quiet, they were filled with chatter, laughter, and music. It wasn’t dark, the moonlight filtered between the buildings and the streetlamps lit the path towards Y/N’s form idly wandering down the block. Bucky kept his distance, Hydra’s training came in handy for some situations, he was sure that she wouldn’t be able to detect him. 

Bucky’s heart raced as he followed Y/N, watching her walk away from him. She was the very same woman that he had never forgotten. The same woman that he’d dreamt of when he was the Winter Soldier. She had haunted him, always in his peripheral vision, slightly out of reach but there in his darkest hours and even when he was tending to the farmlands in Wakanda. 

She did exist, had continued to exist and he was not going to let this be the last time he saw her. He had always known someone was out there, watching him and yet, he’d always thought it was his handlers, Steve, or other SHIELD agents and until recently, his teammates. But now he knew it was her. He just knew, somehow, a sixth sense guiding him, protecting him. Even after all he had done to hurt and destroy this world.

Now that Bucky knew she was alive, he wasn't going to let her slip through his fingers; he would chase her, fight for her. He wouldn’t give up on her as he had before. Bucky needed to know what happened, he wanted answers. But mostly, he needed to atone for all that he had done, it seemed she had left a mark on his soul from a time before he became the Winter Soldier.

Y/N knew James would ignore her request to not be followed. She sensed him behind her. He was too much of a gentleman still; and she could hear the sultry way he’d insist he ‘wouldn’t let a dame walk by herself’. Y/N scoffed out loud at the thought. Walking alone was exactly how she ended up in this ghastly life of an immortal. 

She could have escaped, run away, and he’d never be able to catch up, he’d probably be too surprised at how quick she could move. Something niggled at the back of her mind; a distant voice, an echo of who she once was. The ever increasing voice told her to wait for James and see what he wanted to say or ask her. 

The desperation in that young girl’s voice gnawed at her insides as she reached her apartment. The young, defenceless girl wanted to claw her way out and take over the undead body. To forget the instincts of a vampire and break the rules set by her kind, ignore the boundaries that she had honed over the last century. That girl wanted to run to James and wrap her arms around him and never let go.

Y/N greeted the porter and advised him of the guest to follow, a knowing smile on the man’s lips as she waited by the elevators. James joined her, his body almost touching her arm as she leant forward to press the call button. The atmosphere felt charged with electricity, a hum deep in their bodies and she could sense the desire dripping off them both. She had seduced him, but she felt like a single brush of his fingers against her skin would ignite her very soul. If she still had one, the jury was still out on that.

Silence filled the ascending elevator. Apart from the hum of the machine, James’ anxious breaths and the surprisingly steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Ding.

Y/N led him through to the penthouse, opening the door to an open plan area consisting of lounge, kitchen, and dining area.It was sophisticated and modern, almost unlived in if it wasn’t for the few homely touches; a blanket thrown over the couch, an extensive vinyl and DVD collections and cooking equipment scattered across the kitchen counters and island. 

A pretence for any human that visited unannounced. Even though the visitor wouldn’t remember a thing, Y/N liked the element of surprise, the game of cat and mouse. It was always fun when they realized they had been the mouse all along. 

Yet, it wasn’t the contents of her home that James had been drawn to. He walked towards the floor to ceiling windows, taking in the view of Lower Manhattan and the millions of twinkling lights in the distance. She joined him and clasped her hands together, getting lost in the sight.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N broke the silence, eyes still focused on the buildings in the distance. “Changed a lot since the forties though hasn’t it?” 

“How?” James asked and turned to face her.

“Just to be clear, I did tell you not to follow me and that you’d regret it if you did?”

James nodded with a neutral expression, it was almost believable without Y/N’s abilities to spot the tiny twitch against his right eye and the slight bob in his throat. “As long as you’re not working for Hydra, I think I can handle it.” James crossed his arms over his chest, a slight tone of impatience seeping into his words.

“Very well.” Y/N sighed and walked to the other end of the room and opened the door, “follow me.”

Bucky was impressed by the large bedroom; it rivalled the apartments at the Avengers compound yet there were hardly any personal items; artwork filled the walls, and a few trinkets were atop the furniture. The large windows continued throughout the apartment; the view would be perfect from the bed.

He gulped at the thought of sharing it with Y/N, his heart thumped against his chest while he followed her movements as she lit the candles dotted on the bedside tables and chest of drawers. A warm glow filled the room, and he copied her seated position at the end of the bed and faced her.

Bucky caught her gaze and offered a sweet smile, to reaffirm that he could handle anything that she told him. Maybe this could be an opportunity for him to share his past; his demons and the nightmares that plagued him even while awake. He knew he was getting ahead of himself but with her so close to being in his arms once more, he couldn’t stop the intense spiral of his thoughts. 

She’d always been a confidant, until he was experimented on and tortured by Hydra; he knew that conversation was too delicate for him and he was sure it would make her look at him differently. That was why he let her go, he had become a broken man and words couldn’t fix him.

“Okay, here goes.” Y/N's voice stuttered slightly. She glanced down at her hands in her lap before her eyes came back up to meet his.

Burning red eyes stared back at him, the contrast from her previous colour startled him but he didn’t allow his neutral expression to falter. Bucky knew what he had signed up for and she was being honest with him, he couldn’t let his emotions overrule him. The crimson shine of her eyes made him think of Wanda and what she went through at the hands of Strucker; experimented on, abused, and manipulated by Hydra. 

Had Y/N gone through the same fate? Bucky frowned; Y/N had already said it wasn’t Hydra. Some other monster. He knew that there were variations of Hydra across the world, but his mind blanked at the potential monsters that lurked in Italy other than the ones he had been tortured by.

“You’re not the first person to give me that look.” Bucky chuckled, hoping to ease the tension that had filled the room, “Wanda. Her eyes change to a similar colour but it’s more of a glow around her eyes.” He clarified, “Well, these, they are still your eyes.” Bucky attempted to reassure her that he wasn’t scared because he wasn’t, he could never be afraid of her.

Y/N face twitched, an almost smile on her lips as she nodded and pulled at the gloves on her hands, “This might hurt a little.”

She placed her hand, palm up, for him to lay his own upon hers. Bucky felt a spine-tingling sensation run over his body, yet it wasn’t from her icy touch but the feel of her soft delicate skin against his calloused hand. The gape of her mouth indicated that she was surprised that he hadn’t pulled away.

“I- You’re so-”

“Hot? Yeah, it’s something that I’ve had since.... Well, y’know.” Bucky shrugged, not moving his palm away from hers and wiggled his Vibranium fingers. “And you’ve already seen this. The metal isn’t exactly the warmest.”

Bucky turned their connected hands over and placed the Vibranium one upon hers. Not a single flinch from her body or pity in her red eyes as his metal fingers cupped their hands together. His heart swelled at how she visibly relaxed, a slight drop in her tense shoulders and an almost imperceptible growth in her smile.

“I’m not scared Y/N. I’ve got all these- these abilities, and by the looks of things, you do too. Show me who you are.” He pleaded, he needed to know but he also wanted her to feel safe, that she could rely on him. Even after everything he said to her that night.

“I know who you are James.” Y/N pulled her hands away and stood in front of him, the candlelight flickering across her face as the curve of a smile bloomed. It was as if he was bewitched by her, once again. “You think you’re fast and strong, but you’ve got nothing on me.”

“Is that a challenge doll?” Bucky smirked, a sense of pride filling his chest as Y/N’s personality began to filter through, the sass he’d been on the receiving end of when they first met in the medical tent all those years ago.

“I could get you on your knees with my little finger before you could even blink.” She smirked back.

“Just say the word and I will be.” The flirting comment had slipped out, and he immediately regretted it as Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. The uncertainty washed away as her laughter rang out through the room.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed, he could see the uncertainty in her crimson gaze, “how about an arm wrestle?”

Even before Bucky lifted a millimetre off the mattress, he was pulled and twisted onto his back at the head of the bed, lush pillows against his head with Y/N straddled across his lap.

“Okay, you are fast.” He gulped, a view of her breasts, spilling across the neckline of her dress. His hands glided up her thighs and his fingers curled around her hips. “And strong. No arm wrestle needed.”

Y/N didn’t want to terrify James, she didn’t want him to run away either, but she knew that telling him she was a vampire would be difficult. She couldn’t deal with not knowing how he’d react, of whether she could live her eternal life with ‘what ifs’ any longer. 

She’d done her very best to claim him as her own, against the other vampires that had circled him over the last couple of decades; for his abilities as the Winter Soldier, for the serum that pumped in his veins and then there were those that wanted to use him for their own personal desires. Y/N had made sure that nobody could stake ownership of him, and luckily for her, her maker was high up in the council to approve the decision.

Now that he was between her legs, and the feel of his hands as they stroked her through the thin material of her dress, gripping her hips as his groin rutted against her core, a fire burned in the pit of her stomach. She was succumbing to her desires and so was he if the friction of his erection was any indication.

Y/N whispered, “Before this goes, where I think it is, you need to know who I am. What I am.”

James leaned forward, mouth opening but she instantly closed it with her index finger pressed against his plump lips. She shuffled backwards, away from his touch and an attempt to clear her head of the intimate situation, kneeling between his legs.

“James, can you hear my heartbeat?” 

He sat up, pulling her into his lap and he placed his head to her bosom, her fingers subconsciously gliding through his hair. Nothing. He’d hear nothing and she knew this would be the moment he’d run. James looked up at her and she heard the stutter in his heart, then a look of confusion across his face.

“It’s probably better if I show you.” Y/N opened her mouth and let the fangs grow, protruding and denting her bottom lip.

She saw the dilation of his pupils and the flash of something that resembled fight or flight across his features. Y/N had prepared for this reaction, had spent the last several weeks thinking about how to handle it. What she hadn’t prepared for was James’ hand snaking up her arm and to the back of her neck, pulling her down to press his lips to hers.

The kiss was delicate, a mixture of nerves and hesitancy, yet it made Y/N’s body sing with pleasure. James pulled away slightly, looking at her as if she were the most beautiful woman to roam the Earth. 

In an instant, he pulled her back in, a clash of lips, teeth and tongues as the passion grew. Y/N’s hands pulled James’ face closer to hers, she felt every sensation as James’ tongue danced with hers. He loosened his grip on her neck, hands trailing down until they wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing her chest to his.

His hands continued to explore her body whilst her hips ground into his erection, feeling every inch of him through his pants, relishing in the moment while he bunched the skirt of her dress up. A soft whimper fell from Y/N’s lips as he massaged the bare flesh of her thighs.

All thoughts of who he was, who she was and what could happen were forgotten as they collapsed into a tangled mess of limbs; pulling at each other's clothes until they were a naked and breathless between the silky sheets.

A mixture of whimpers and gasps filled the bedroom; bodies intertwined as they both sought pleasure from one another and provided the release of ecstasy. Y/N raised her torso atop James, her nails digging into the warm flesh of his pecs while she chased after her high. 

James gripped her hips and rocked up into her at a fierce pace, the delicious friction melting them both as they reached the peak of their orgasms. He wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, deepening his intrusion as she shuddered around his shaft.

Y/N burrowed her head into his neck, pressing light kisses to his jaw while her fangs remained on display from the ongoing bliss she felt deep within her darkened soul. They grazed against his pulse point.

“I am yours. Forever.” James’ words drifted through the post-orgasmic haze.

If Y/N’s heart still beat, it would have fluttered at his words. Instead, she pressed her lips to his neck once more, feeling a deeper embrace than before.

Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan​ / @aroyaldarknessblr​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @kitkatd7​ / @harold231

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @musesforart​

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes Fic #Bucky Barnes Angst #Bucky Barnes Smut #Bucky Barnes Fanfic #Bucky Barnes Fanfiction

[dracosaurusrex]

Bookworms (Part 3)

Summary: A predicament in the Slytherin common room is the perfect ingredient for confession.

Word count: 3.9k

Genre: Fluff; enemies-to-friends-to-lovers

TW: Bullying

A/N: This chapter picks up from the moment Draco leaves the common room and starts off with his friends’ perspective. PS. I don’t hate Astoria I promise! It’s only for the story. Anyways...I hope you like it! I have this tendency to overthink a lot, so I’m going to shut my trap before I regret anything LOL

Everyone occupying the common room that night watched in awe as Draco stormed out of the dungeons. His outlash didn’t settle well with his group of friends. Moreover, it shocked Astoria to hear the sound of your name roll off from his lips. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so bothered before. Have you?” Pansy asked. Daphne shook her head.

“Generally speaking, I’ve never seen him get that defensive over anybody.” 

“Did you notice the way his eyes looked?” The group recalled the frustration that dripped from his voice and the fire that blazed within his blue orbs.

“I didn’t know there was anything going on between them. It’s not the first time we spoke about her when he was around.” Pansy, Daphne, and Theo all murmured their agreements. Meanwhile, Astoria sat still boiling in jealousy as the conversation lingered on. She had everything--the blood, the looks, the money, the name. She could practically have the Malfoy family wrapped around her finger. What did Y/N have that she didn’t? Suddenly, the sound of Blaise’s voice broke her out of her thoughts.

“Do you think he likes her?” With this, Astoria balls her fists and rams it onto the table in frustration, putting everyone in shock once again. 

“Draco? Liking that filthy bookworm!? You’ve got to be joking Blaise! That poor excuse for a Slytherin probably slipped some amortentia in his drink!” Astoria projected her thoughts fearlessly before storming out of the room. 

“Daphne, I think you should go check on her.” Blaise suggested. She nodded.

“I will, but she needs time alone to calm down.” Silence lingers in the air before Blaise interjects once again.

“In all seriousness though, do you think Draco has feelings for Y/N?” He asks again.

“With that expression on his face, it’s hard to believe that he doesn’t. Y/N must’ve done something important to have him wrapped around her finger like that.” Pansy says.

“I don’t even think she realizes she has him wrapped around her finger. She hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary. You know her--always got her nose stuck in a book.” Daphne’s statement stirs a thought within Pansy’s mind. A wicked smile appears on her face, grabbing the attention of the others.

“Pansy, please. That smile is frightening.” Theo lifts his hand to block his view of her. She throws him a scowl.

“Hear me out. Why don’t find out then? Draco just walked out right? What are the chances that he’s with her?”

Blaise chimed in, “I think I saw Y/N leave a few minutes before he did. Do you think he followed her?” Pansy’s face lit up.

“Good sleuthing Blaise! They don’t call us Slytherin for nothing!” The girl raises herself from her seat.

“Plus, I’m over Snape’s assignment. It’s time to unwind for the night,” She looks at her friends at the table, “You joining?” Daphne and Theo get up without hesitation, while Blaise throws them a judgemental expression.

“Come on Blaise. I got a plan, and you play an important role.” She skips to where he is sat and pulls on his arm. The boy lets out a groan.

“Why can’t we let him be?” He lets out.

“Because, we love some good character development! Now get your arse up Zabini! We got more sleuthing to do!” Blaise packs his things begrudgingly before joining the group as they walk out of the common room. They sought out the Great Hall first, seeing that there were still a few students grabbing dinner. However, when they fail to see either you or Draco, they leave and try out the courtyard. Much to their disappointment, they had the same results. They even tried going to Snape’s room, thinking that you might’ve gone to talk to him about the assignment. Still no luck.

Blaise releases a grunt out of frustration, as the group continues to walk around aimlessly. 

“Have you thought, just possibly, that they’d be in the bloody library!?” He scolds them as he presses his fingers to his temples. The dull pain that was surging from the sides of his head puts him in a pissier mood. 

“This is why we need you, Blaise.” Theo gave a firm pat on Blaise’s back, followed by pats from both Daphne and Pansy. The boy sighs exasperatingly before trailing behind them.

By the time they arrive at the library, the group splits in order to cover more ground. Blaise, having enough of their antics, decides to aimlessly walk through the shelves for his own peace of mind. He enjoys it for a while, until he hears the voice of a particular platinum blonde. He stops for a moment, mentally celebrating his victory, and turns to find the location of the source. Peering through the shelves, he takes sight of Draco smiling with a book in hand.

“You seem to have forgotten my height in comparison to yours.” He hears him say. He glances at the beaming expression in the boy’s eyes. Suddenly, Pansy, Daphne, and Theo appear beside him.

In a hushed whisper Daphne speaks out, “What are you looking- oh!” Her exclamation draws the attention of the other two as Blaise raises a finger to his lips to shush them. The group obeys, and watches the scene unfold quietly.

“Give it here you git. I found it first.” Pansy and Daphne squeal at the sight of you jumping for the book.

“Draco, Draco, Draco--this boy knows what he’s doing.” Theo snickers under his breath. Their eyes widen at the scene that follows next.

“Draco!” They observe as you push off from his shoulders, successfully retrieving the book from him. What surprised them was the way Draco pulled you close to keep you from falling. Moreover, how the both of you stayed in that position for several minutes before stepping away.

Pansy mutters, “I feel like I just interrupted something.” She turns her head to see Daphne biting her knuckle in an attempt to refrain from squealing even more.

“I’m sorry Astoria.” Pansy nudges Daphne’s side before snickering herself. The group retreats back to the common room, leaving you and Draco alone. However, once they arrived, they were met with red-eyed Astoria, who began to question their whereabouts.

“I leave the room for five minutes only to find that you guys were gone when I come back. Where have you been?” The two girls kept silent and looked at the younger with pitiful eyes. She hated being pitied.

“Stop looking at me like that, and spill!” Her voice increased in volume as she demanded for answers. Blaise steps to the front and holds her shoulders.

“Astoria, you need to calm yourself down first. Breath.” The girl looks up at the boy, his voice calming her senses.

“Are you calm?” He asks. She responds with a silent nod, uncertain about what she was about to find out. Blaise led her to the couch, followed by the other three. He looked into her eyes with hands planted on her shoulders.

“We saw Draco with Y/N earlier. He looked really happy.” The prideful girl felt her heart drop at the sound of the news. Certainly that can’t mean anything right? Surely she had a chance...right? She kept silent as thoughts roamed in her mind for several minutes. However, her internal ramblings were interrupted by the sound of the dungeons opening. The group turned their heads towards the entrance revealing a pleased-looking Draco. He was seen carrying several rolls of parchment under one arm and his bag held in the opposing hand. Accompanying him from behind was you. There was a smile plastered on your face as you looked towards the boy. He returned the smile as well as the rolls that the group concluded to belong to you. Out of disappointment and frustration, Astoria violently shrugs Blaise’s hands off her shoulders and stands from her seat.

“Y/L/N!” She yells. The sudden outburst catches you off guard. You stop in your steps as you see her approaching you with an angry look on her face.

“May I hel-”

“You bet you can,” Astoria’s hands come into contact with your shoulders, throwing your balance off slightly. You give her a shocked expression, but before you can say anything she cuts you off.

“Keep that nose of yours buried in your books where it belongs. You think you have a chance with Draco? Make me laugh!” You feel your heart crack slightly at the sound of her words. Not knowing what to expect, you keep your feet planted and stand your ground.

“Look at you! Disheveled,” She pokes at your hair.

“Nerdy!” She gestures towards the rolls of parchment in your arms.

“Poor!” Your eyes widened at her derogatory statement. 

“Your only redeeming quality is the fact that you’re a pureblood. Albeit a lowly one at that!” Draco and his friend group look at the scene progress with shock-filled eyes. Never in their lives would they have thought that Astoria would say such harsh words. By the time she was done with her rant, the younger Greengrass was huffing, her eyebrows furrowed, and shoulders tense. 

You wanted to cry. You bit your quivering lip in response to her hurtful words. How dare she? Within those couple seconds she had jabbed at everything you worked hard for--all out of the need to feel superior. The image of your mother crossed your mind. You recalled her secret tears, her efforts to shield you away from the hardships you faced. You recalled how hard she worked to provide your every need, furthermore how hard she worked to open the book shop--not only for a means of living, but for your peace of mind as well. Suddenly, a pit of anger blossomed from your gut. With your lips still quivering you scoff, breaking the silence that lingered since her outlash. It catches the attention of the others surrounding you.

You placed your belongings on the floor, before looking her straight in the eyes.

“Does it make you feel better when you attempt to make me feel insecure?” You take a step forward.

“You ask if I think I have a chance with Draco?” You mock her words, while scanning her figure from top to bottom.

“Last time I checked, Greengrass, my life didn’t revolve around him!” Your voice began to grow in hostility.

“Every single thing that you look down upon are the very reasons why I’m in Slytherin in the first place!” Your voice seethed with venom. In fact, the very statement elicited shivers down everyone’s spine. There was a familiar fire that burned in your eyes--one that Draco had grown too fond of. He rooted himself to his spot, watching you in awe.

“Your words hurt, they do. Do you think I wanted to be born poor? Do you think I’m nerdy because I want to be fucking nerdy!?” At that moment, Astoria knew she struck a note--a strong one at that. Her confidence began to shrink as you stepped closer.

“Bash on my appearance all you want, Greengrass, but if you dare try to degrade me for things you know nothing of - all for the sake of your damn crush,” You stood right in front of her now, eyes piercing through hers. With a tone full of resolution you continue your statement, “Then I suggest you stay out of my way. Your jealousy is a waste of my time.” You bump her shoulder harshly before turning back to collect your belongings and make your way to your dorm. Before you proceed, you look back at Draco to see that he’s looking at you with much concern.

“I’ll be fine.” You mouthed, before continuing your way. 

Astoria was left standing there with shock of your retaliation. The feeling of regret pools in her stomach as she feels a hand on her shoulder. It’s Daphne’s. Her sister gives a strained smile as she pulls her away. The older sibling turns to Draco with an apologetic smile plastered on her face.

“You should check on Y/N. We’ll take care of Astoria.” The boy breaks from his daze and nods before dashing through the halls. Once he arrives in front of your door he presses his ear against it. Silent sobs can be heard from the other side. He softly knocks.

“Y/N? It’s Draco.” He hears her cease her cries. After a couple of moments, the door opens revealing your puffy-eyed self. You couldn’t bear to look up at him, so you keep your gaze stuck to the floor. The sight of you looking emotionally weak breaks Draco’s heart. You were always the one to hold a strong stance. A frown finds its way to his lips as he presses your head to his chest. He walks into your room and locks the door behind him all while keeping you within his embrace.

“That was so humiliating.” You croak out as tears stream down your cheeks. Your hands clench the fabric of his uniform as your face remains buried into his chest. The boy finds himself at a loss for words. As he thinks of ways to make you feel better, he suddenly remembers the way you had cleaned him up when you found him so helpless. 

“Let me take care of you?” He whispered softly into your ear. There was much sincerity and concern laced in his voice. In a short span of time, you had managed to make him feel safe, accepted, and welcomed to a sense of warmth that he has never received before. It felt safe for him to feel vulnerable around you. Seeing the way you handled the situation tonight, he felt the compelling need to do the same.

The sobs that you choked out ceased slightly as you nod in response. At the sight of this, he reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as he leads you to the bathroom. You seat yourself on the stool situated in front of the sink, head faced down. Draco takes a fresh face towel and wets it. 

“Look at me.” You hesitantly lift your face meeting his concerned gaze. He reaches out and caresses your cheek to wipe the tear that strayed from your eyes.  He then proceeds to wipe your face. You close your eyes to relish the cool dampness of the cloth, letting out breathy sighs in relief. Your heart beats faster at the thought of you being on the receiving end of Draco’s care. At the end of the task, the boy caresses your face through the towel. You look up into his eyes with a frown.

Noticing that your hair was still up, Draco pulled the elastic and grabbed the brush that laid on top of the counter. 

“Turn around.” You follow as he says and meet both your reflections in the mirror. You stared at him, taking in the details of his facial features. He put on a focused expression as he began brushing your hair. His touch was soft and delicate, not wanting to run through tangles forcibly and put you at a risk for discomfort. The soft tugs at your roots felt soothing, inducing your eyes to droop. Draco notices and chuckles softly.

“Don’t you dare sleep on me again, Y/N.” Your eyes immediately fly open.

“It feels good.” You admit quietly. You meet his gaze through the reflection and let out a small smile.

The tugging feeling on his heartstrings prompts him to lean down an whisper in your ear, “Y/N, you’re beautiful I hope you know.” His words cause a surge of heat to rise throughout your body and you can’t help but smile wider. Draco turns the stool, so you’re facing him once again.

“I also like that you’re intelligent--in more ways than one might I add.” He says as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. You chuckled. 

Out of impulse, Draco leans down once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Despite your erratic heart beats, you respond to his gesture by wrapping your arms around his torso, pulling yourself into him. He copies your actions while running his fingers through your hair. Everything feels like bliss. 

“I hope you don’t actually believe what she says.” He says as you both remain in the same position.

“About what?”

“That you don’t have a chance with me.” 

“I can see why she’d say that...especially with you and your fami-” He interrupts your sentence. 

“Y/N, I like you,” Your eyes widened.

“I like you regardless of my family or your status.” You pulled away to look at him. You can see him cleaning up, and putting things back in their original places. He kept a neutral expression, but when his gaze passes yours, he raises his eyebrows as he usually does before breaking into a small smile. Just before you catch yourself swooning, he pulls on your wrist.

“You don’t need to give me an answer right now. I just wanted to let you know. Let’s get you dressed.” The boy makes you sit on the edge of your bed while you direct his way through your closet. He pulls out a pair of black sweats and a black jumper and hands it to you.

“Go ahead. I’ll turn around.” You proceed to changing into the clothes that he gave to you. Once you finished you sat yourself on the bed once again, and called out to him. He took a seat by your side. There was an oddly comfortable atmosphere between the both of you. You turn to him to see a serious expression painted on his facial features. The boy looks straight ahead with his hands clasped on his lap. You reach out to grab one and hold it. 

“What’s on your mind?” You ask weakly. He stares at your hand in his. His lack of words causes you to speak up.

“I’m sorry. I get touchy when I’m at my lows. My mother would hold my hand like this.” He remains silent, only gripping your hand in response.

“Don’t apologize. I said I’d look out for you as you have for me.” He turned to look at you and sighed. The sight of your tired expression induces a tight feeling in his chest. The way you stood your ground, the way you defended yourself, the way you held everything in until you were alone--all these things made him contemplate on his actions before he had met you. He’d vividly recall the moments he’d pick on others to feel that sense of superiority that Astoria had tried to feel. He remembered the way he had celebrated in the eyes of his victim’s defeat. But, when he saw you in the line of fire, the feeling of foolishness and regret filled him. 

“Are you tired?” He asked.

You nodded your head in response, getting comfortable with the feel of his hand wrapped around yours. 

“I can go. You should get your rest.” Before he stood to get up, you gripped his hand harder. You craved for the peace he provided. 

“Stay. Please.” His eyes soften at your plea.

“I’ll be back then.” You nod in response while Draco momentarily leaves the room. You sit within the silence as your mind combs over the events that occurred that night. Never in your life did you have to worry about the way someone thought of you--let alone your financial status at home. You had always been one to be independent with your mother as inspiration to make it through. You didn’t mind isolating yourself in your study, because at the end of the week you’d be able to go back home and unwind--something not many students get to do. The feeling of suddenly being placed under scrutiny felt uncomfortable, unfamiliar, and uncertain. 

You break out of your thoughts at the sound of your door opening. Draco peers from the outside before entering and resumes his spot next to you. He was dressed in an outfit similar to yours, except his sweatpants were grey. 

“You got something running around that mind of yours. What is it?” He says.

“Is it that obvious?”

“I mean tonight was already chaotic as it is. You’re not typically placed in the spotlight like that, and you standing up to Astoria took a lot of energy from you. I wouldn’t blame you if you had any lingering thoughts.” He said calmly. He laid out his palm on the surface of your bed sheets.

“It’s there for you to hold if you want it.” He mutters. You look at him with eyes glossed over. You didn’t need to say much, nevertheless he somehow knew what to do. You reached out and grabbed it, allowing yourself to sit much closer to him.

Suddenly, a curious thought flew over the boy’s head, “Does your mother usually read to you in moments like this?” It caught you off guard, but in a good way.

“You’re a smart one aren’t you?” You say teasingly.  He smirks slightly.

“You know, I don’t fall far behind you in ranking.” He turned his head to look straight into your eyes. Time seemed to stop as you stared into his softened blue hues, tuning out the situation that occurred. Hearts palpitated, minds raced, but one glance towards your lips from him was all it took for you to slowly reach up and caress his cheek. The shortening of the distance made Draco’s breath hitch as he came to full realization of what’s going on. 

In response to your actions, he leans in closing the distance between you both. The sensation of fireworks erupted in your chest as you felt his lips slightly brush yours. The kiss was soft and short, but all the more reassuring. It evoked feelings of acceptance, appreciation, promises, and safety that both had felt for one another. It conveyed the unspoken love that neither one of you acknowledged, but had already felt in the little time you spent together. Needless to say, the worries that previously occupied you dissipated at the feel of his lips.

Your heart was racing as you pulled away. Your eyes, which have been closed, open to find him looking into yours once again. Without much hesitation, Draco leaned in for another kiss--this time grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down gently, so that your back was pressed against the bed. Lips moved in sync slowly as he carefully laid his body against your own. His fingers brush your hair away from your face before dancing over your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck to feel him closer. He broke away only to plant kisses all over your face--your eyelids, cheeks, temples, nose. All followed by more lingering ones pressed against your jaw, which soon trailed down your neck. You couldn’t resist him.

“Draco,” The boy melted at the sound of his name. He lifted himself from your neck to look at you. Your eyes were filled with adoration while a smile graced your lips.

“I think now is a good enough time as ever to let you know I like you too.” You both chuckled into the night.

“I didn’t think it would be obvious.” He sarcastically says, before leaning back down once again to kiss you one last time. He laid beside you with his arm draped over your waist, pulling you closer to his body, flushed against his chest. The warm sensation that you felt before was overwhelming now. 

“Thank you for being here and for staying.” You say softly. You feel his fingers brush through your hair. Sleep beginning to overtake you both.

“Anytime.”

A/N: Thank you for making it this far! I apologize for the long wait, but I hope this was suffices :D I hope you have a wonderful day!

Just a couple tags <3:

@fadesbrina @redheaded-hobbit @ccabian @rottenhexrt @beiahadid @ceeellewrites @xoxohollands @mxlfoy-recs @thatguppienamedbae @swiftlymoniquesblog @karamelssunflowers @phxntxmx @mushi98 @hahee154hq​

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #slytherin imagines

[izzyfandoms]

Like Lipstick Stains On His Skin

SHIPS: Remile

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Remy Sanders

WARNING: Anxiety, references to heartbreak

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile Picani had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.

The moment he had first laid eyes on Remy Sanders, his initial thought had been that that was the most attractive person he’d ever seen. And, after getting to know him better, Emile’s thoughts only solidified; Remy was funny and sarcastic, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and casually flirty in a way that made Emile’s heart stop and pound and ache all at once.

And Emile’s feelings had only strengthened as they grew up together.

From awkward teenagers still figuring out their sexualities to adults with their own homes and jobs and independent lives, Remy and Emile had stayed friends through it all, sticking together like glue since they’d first met in middle school. They knew almost everything about each other, and they were best friends.

But that was just it – they were friends. Nothing more.

And Emile was... fine with that. He was fine.

He loved Remy. Loved, loved, loved Remy.

And, sure, it hurt when he was with Remy, but not really with Remy, not in the way Emile always wanted to be. It hurt to be around him and know that it would only ever be platonic, that his best friend would never love him back in quite the same he loved him.

But time spent with Remy was better than time spent with anyone or anything else. And Emile knew that Remy cared deeply for him, too.

Emile could take the heartache if it meant he never lost his best friend.

When Emile heard the knock on his front door, he immediately recognised it as Remy’s. He jumped up – perhaps a little too enthusiastically and excitedly, but the only person that could see him right now was himself, so there was nobody around to judge. He rushed over to the door and pulled it open. Remy’s eyes lit up when he saw Emile, and he grinned.

Emile would never admit aloud to the tremble of his heart in his chest at the expression on his best friend’s face, but he did immediately squish down the traitorous hope that emerged every time Remy looked at him like that. Which happened almost every time they saw each other.

“Hey, Remy! You’re here early,” Emile said.

“Hope that’s chill, babe. I was not watching the time.”

(Emile did his best to ignore the feelings that the use of the nickname ‘babe’ stirred up.)

Remy’s sunglasses were propped up on his head, as they often were, and his warm brown eyes were on display. He was wearing his signature black leather jacket, too, as he usually was, with a white crop-top – with the word ‘bitch’ across the front in block capitals – underneath, exposing his midriff.

It took effort for Emile to keep his eyes from drifting downwards.

“It’s fine, Remy,” Emile smiled, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on his best friend’s face. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

Remy laughed. “If you keep saying that, I’ll end up showing up here at 4am when I’m drunk.”

“Well, I would rather you came here than go somewhere else and get yourself hurt.”

“Even if that means I wake you up from whatever candy-coloured, cartoon-filled dreams you’re having?”

“Mhm!”

“Damn, gurl, you really are sweeter than sugar, huh? How the hell did someone like you end up being besties with someone like me?”

“Aww, Remy, I think you give yourself too little credit.”

Remy laughed again. “Nah, babes, I love myself. I’m just kinda an asshole sometimes.”

“Isn’t everyone sometimes?” Emile said.

“Not you, apparently. Come on, you’re basically an angel, like, 24/7 and I have legit no idea how you do it. You’ve got the patience of a saint and a smile that literally gives me toothache just looking at it. You’re downright adorable.”

Elation bubbled up in Emile’s heart, and those bubbles filled his chest and spilled over in the forms of happy giggles. He covered his smile with his hand, and practically melted on the spot at the soft, fond look that crossed Remy’s face for just a moment – almost unnoticeable, but Emile paid enough attention that he saw it – before being replaced with Remy’s usual grin.

“Do you want to come in?” Emile asked, still smiling.

“Sure.”

Emile stepped to the side, and Remy’s arm brushed against his own as he walked past him. He hoped the stuttered breath at the contact wasn’t obvious.

“I like the new tie,” Remy commented as Emile shut the door and turned to face him.

Emile perked up. “Oh, you noticed!”

“Course I did,” Remy said. “I’ve seen every tie you’ve got like a million times. I could tell that one was new basically as soon as you opened the door.”

“Aww, Remy... you’re great. The best friend a guy could have!”

Emile’s smile was soft, fond, and so, so caring, and – for just a moment – he could have sworn that Remy looked flustered to be the recipient of it: wide-eyed and as still as a statue. But then, the moment passed, and Remy’s expression smoothed over and returned to normal, and Emile was sure that he’d only imagined it.

“It’s nothing, babe,” Remy said, waving his hand dismissively. “You noticed when I got that new skirt last week, even though it’s identical to my old one-”

“Your old one had a big hole in it! The new one didn’t.”

“Yeah, so I had to get a new one ‘cos it made my ass look great and I wasn’t ‘bout to give that shit up, you know? Ooh, and I especially love it paired with those heels that get everyone looking at my legs, ‘cos that combo makes me look fab AF.” Remy paused. “You know what, I think that’s kinda beside the point. Any-gay, you noticed ‘cos you’re cool like that, so me noticing your tie is, like, nothing.”

“Aww, Remy,” Emile reached forward, and poked Remy’s arm. “It’s not nothing, most people wouldn’t even be able to tell! You’re my best friend, and it makes me really, really happy that you notice these kinds of things.”

Remy’s expression softened. “Well, then I guess it makes it pretty special then, huh?”

Emile felt like screaming. Or kissing Remy. Or kissing Remy and then screaming.

(Though, really, if Emile ever got the chance to kiss Remy, he’d be too busy savouring it to even think of doing anything else. Too busy savouring the feeling of warm lips against his own, of Remy’s gentle hand against his cheek, of a chest pressed against his own, of being so close to the one person he wanted to be close to more than anything else in the world. But he never thought he’d ever get the chance.)

Emile stumbled over his words, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as he fiddled with his hands. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, and wasn’t sure if he even could without losing control of his mouth and accidentally confessing his undying love for his best friend.

“Um...” he trailed off.

Remy laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair and glancing away.

“So, uh... what did- what did your patients think of your new tie?”

“Oh!” Emile perked up again, at once both disappointed and relieved by the return to the original topic of conversation. “Yeah, two of them complimented it. And someone said the red was a nice change from the usual pastels, so I think it was a big hit!”

He smiled, and Remy immediately smiled back.

“Nice.”

“I think the pink tie’s still my favourite, though.”

“Mine, too. It’s a classic Emile colour.”

Emile laughed. “There are classic Emile colours?”

“Sure, there are! You’ve got your baby pink, baby blue and, you know,” Remy reached out, tugging gently on Emile’s cardigan sleeve. “You’ve got your cardigan-colour. I’ve, like, barely ever seen you without this thing. How many of these do you have? Like, a hundred?”

Emile giggled again, covering his mouth with his hand. “I have two. And they’re both a little different!”

“Right, right,” Remy nodded. “One’s, like, a little bigger.”

“Mhm! And this one’s a bit softer.”

Remy nodded again, slowly and with an amused tint to his smile. “So, are we gonna, like, move, or are we gonna stand in your hallway forever?”

“Oh, right!” Emile said, like he’d only just remembered that they were still stood at his front door.  

He moved past Remy, gesturing for his friend to follow as he went into the next room and sat down on the couch. Remy immediately flopped onto it beside him, getting comfortable on the soft, squishy cushions. He leant back lazily and stretched.

“Ooh,” Remy finally said, straightening up. “I bought a new lipstick yesterday!”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“It’s, like, pink. It matches the shoes I bought last week, and it makes me look killer. I’m gonna get all the guys’ eyes on me, so it sucks that I can’t wear it when I’m, like, actually looking to kiss strangers, you know?”

Emile ignored the pang of pain in his heart, and did his best to smile encouragingly.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” he said. “I- I bet you look great in it. And it- it's a shame you can’t wear it when you want to.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda tempted to, you know, but, like, if I’m wearing lipstick, then I won’t know if any marks my lips make are ‘cos of my lipstick or ‘cos of soulmate shit, right?” Remy continued, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “And, like, what’s the pointing of making out with people if I can’t also know if they’re my soulmate?”

“Right.”

“So, I can only wear lipstick when I’m not looking for people to kiss. Sucks, but it’s gotta be done.”

Emile nodded slowly. Then, he paused, and his brow creased in thought.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick when you’re with me,” he said. “Even when we’re going out and it’s just us, no- no kissing strangers involved. How come?”

Remy froze in place.

“Uh...”

Emile blinked at him. He tilted his head questioningly. “Hmm?”

He could practically see the cogs turning in Remy’s head, while he searched for an answer that he obviously did not have or did not want to share. He looked... flustered, in a way that Emile had almost never seen him before – opening and closing his mouth a few times – and Emile just couldn’t seem to figure out why.

Remy and Emile just stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say to the other. Emile was confused, not wanting to speak up at the risk of interrupting whatever Remy wanted to say. He also absolutely would not let his mind wander to the any possibilities that would fill him with hope.

A crushed hope was definitely not something Emile wanted to deal with, not right now.

Remy cleared his throat. He swallowed.

“Um- there’s...” he then huffed, looking down at his lap and running his fingers through his hair. He let out an awkward laugh, and then looked back up at Emile. “I... okay,” he sighed. “There’s something I think I should probs tell you.”

Emile stared at him, blinking. “What is it?” He asked.

“It, uh...” Remy sighed again. “I have no idea how you’d react to this. The thing I want to tell you... it could probs mess up our friendship.”

“Remy...” Emile said softly. “You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, and I promise you this won’t mess anything up, okay?”

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

“I don’t need to. I know you.” Emile leant forward slightly, giving Remy his best attempt at a soft, reassuring smile.

Remy stared at Emile for a second. Then he laughed again, a strange mix of awkwardness and nervousness and with a hint of slight joy, too – with a confusing, even a little alarming, effect. His eyes never left Emile’s smile.

“Jeez, babe. How are you making this so much harder but so much easier at, like, the same time?”

Emile blinked. “Um... is that good?”

“Dunno. But...” Remy took a deep breath. He clenched his hands into fists, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned back to Emile. “Okay... wow, I’ve wanted to tell you this for forever, but, like, fuck, this is terrifying.”

Emile’s expression creased with concern. He reached forward, looking him over worriedly, and rested his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“Remy, are you okay? You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he frowned slightly.

“No, I- I want to tell you. God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about telling you about my feelings.”

Feelings. Feelings, feelings, feelings.

Did that mean what Emile thought it meant?

The hope rose up, though he tried so hard to squash it down, but it was like trying to fit something large in a container too small and he could hardly keep it from filling up and overwhelming him. His breath stuttered, and he was sure he tensed up and froze in place for a moment, before he finally regained his composure and physically relaxed.

“Feelings?” He asked, in a voice slightly more strangled than before. “What feelings?”

Remy let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s- that’s what I’ve gotta talk to you about. My- my feelings... for you.” He took another deep breath. “I... I love you, Em.”

“I love you, too,” Emile answered back immediately. “Haven’t we said this before?”

They had. The two best friends had been friends for so long: exchanging ‘I love you’s was practically part of their routine, by now.

But it had always been platonic, at least from Remy’s side.

Right?

“We- we have...” Remy said slowly. “But that’s not what I meant. I love you. Like, love love. Like the head over heels in love kind. The- the I can never stop thinking ‘bout you kind. The, fuck, you’re so gorgeous kind. The kind that means I’m, like, basically always thinking about you and about kissing you and about how, wow, you’re- you’re just amazing. I mean, damn, I know last week when I told you that you’re my favourite person, I kinda said it like a joke, but I meant it. I like really, really meant it.”

When Remy realised that he was rambling, he clamped his hand over his mouth, like it was the only way to get the words – the pretty, pretty words that had set Emile’s heart aflutter – to stop tumbling out.

Emile was frozen.

He stared, wide-eyed at his best friend.

“Oh,” was the only thing he could say, in a strangled voice.

He was sure that his face was already bright red.

“Great.” Remy sighed, removing his palm from his mouth and burying his face in his hands. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?” He mumbled just loud enough to be audible. “I- I know you don’t feel the same way, babe, and it’s fine. It’s totally, totally fine. I’m happy just being friends with you, ‘kay? You- you don’t have to return anything. It’s- it’s whatever. It’s chill.”

Emile’s brain had broken. He could hardly think anything other than the words ‘Remy’ and ‘love’ just over and over on repeat.

Instead of saying anything in response to that – as he wasn’t even sure if he could – he just suddenly burst into nervous, delighted laugher. Emile was sure he sounded like he was crazy, especially when Remy turned to him with a bewildered expression.

“Did- did you really mean that?” Emile asked when he could finally collect his thoughts enough to speak, which took slightly longer than he would have liked it to.

Remy blinked. Then, his expression softened.

“Of course, I did,” he said. “I’d never lie to you about something like this, Em.”

“So, you... you really mean it?” Emile asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Remy said. He hesitated for a moment, before nervously adding: “Do you- I mean, is it-”

“I love you, too.”

There was a beat.

Remy stared back at him, wide-eyed. The moment of silence was somehow simultaneously nerve-racking and also soft and so, so exciting, because, oh my gosh, Remy loved him. Remy loved him, he loved him, he loved him!

Love! Love! Love!

And, oh, heavens above, Emile was about to start wiggling excitedly because, gosh, he really, really just had to kiss Remy, right now. And maybe – maybe, maybe, maybe – Remy would say yes if he asked.

Emile let out another giggle, covering his mouth with his hand.

“You... you do?” Remy asked, eyes wide and hopeful, and Emile was suddenly glad that the sunglasses were propped up on his head, as his expression was always much easier to read that way.

“Yeah,” Emile responded, equally soft. “I really, really do.”

“Wow. Just- just wow.”

Emile reached forward, impulsively cupping Remy’s cheek with his hand, and Remy froze. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh, gosh- sorry,” Emile apologised. “I should’ve asked-”

He moved to take his hand away, but was stopped by Remy covering Emile’s hand with his own.

“You’re good- you're- yes. Yes.”

And, well, that was exactly the answer that Emile had wanted to hear.

He leant forward, and finally – finally! – did the thing he’d most wanted to do for years. Years. Since the moment he’d first laid eyes on Remy, he’d thought about it.

He kissed Remy.

Softly. Carefully. Holding Remy’s face so delicately like he was holding something precious.

And the way Remy was kissing him back...

Emile had seen Remy kiss people before – strangers, friends – and he’d always kissed them like he was doing it for fun, not love. He’d never seen Remy kiss anyone as gently as Remy was kissing him, right now.

Bubbles of delight and fireworks of excitement were going off in Emile’s heart and his mind.

He sighed happily into the kiss, and he could suddenly feel Remy smile against his lips.

Emile broke the kiss with another delighted giggle and Remy couldn’t help but just start laughing with him, too. And, of course, that just made Emile’s giggles louder and more enthusiastic.

He was so focused on the laughing and the delighted feeling in his chest from the fact that he had just kissed Remy, that Emile didn’t immediately notice that Remy’s lips were suddenly pink – a light, pastel pink that certainly hadn’t been there before.

And, in fact, it was Remy who halted the laughter first, by freezing in place and staring – yet again wide-eyed – at Emile’s own lips.

Emile paused, and tilted his head in confusion.

“Remy?”

Remy opened and closed his mouth a few times, never taking his eyes off of Emile’s lips.

“Em... your- your lips.”

Emile blinked. He reached a hand up to his own lips, and swiped a finger across them. He then looked back down at his hand, and found nothing – no blood, no anything.

He paused, and then turned his head to look at the mirror that hung on an opposite wall.

His eyes landed on his reflection, and he finally noticed that there was a smear of shiny silver across his lips that definitely, definitely hadn’t been there before.

Emile sucked in a breath as Remy turned his head to look into the mirror, and he realised that Remy’s lips were now a lipstick-like pink, when he certainly hadn’t been wearing any just before the pair had kissed.

“We’re-” Remy started.

“Oh,” Emile breathed.

“Oh,” Remy echoed.

They turned their heads to stare at each other, equally wide-eyed and shocked and excited.

Soulmates.

They were soulmates.

And then Remy surged forward, and kissed Emile again.

#me #writing #remile #sanders shorts #cartoon therapy #emile picani #remy sanders #sleep sanders #fluff #human au #soulmate au #first kiss