#marvel cast x foreign!reader

[janesociety]

dinner party

marvel cast x teen!reader

summary: you decide to make the cast one of your family's traditional meals and worry about how they'll react.

warnings: none

notes: this is another old one, so, again, go easy

masterlist

✩ ✩ ✩

You were excited. It was finally your turn to make the cast dinner. Every week, someone volunteered to have dinner at their place with the rest of the cast. Sometimes they cooked, other times they ordered in, but it never really mattered to the cast.

You had been waiting for the right time to volunteer. You grew up in the States, but your parents didn't, which meant your home-cooked meals were rarely of the American variety. You really wanted to make something for the cast, but felt like you had to make sure you could do it right first. So you practiced- you practiced a lot.

Your parents were overjoyed that you were so enthusiastic about learning to make your culture's cuisine. They always wanted you to stay connected to it and you had never shown any interest before. You got the recipes and found the local markets that sold the right ingredients and attempted as many meals as you could. It wasn't just for the cast, you also loved the food and missed it while you were away filming, so the food made you less homesick.

The cast was originally surprised that you had volunteered and especially that you said you would be cooking.

"Just don't burn your apartment down, kid," Anthony had joked, elbowing your side.

You'd been a Marvel cast member since you were fairly young, so once you got a bit older and your parents got more comfortable with you being by yourself, you started renting out an apartment in Atlanta during filming. It was slightly bigger than you probably needed, but you were glad you had it at times like this so you could have the cast over.

On the day of the dinner, you went straight back to your apartment after shooting to make sure you could get everything pulled together in time. You made sure to make somewhat of a variety of foods so that if someone didn't like something, they could most likely find something else. After having cooked the meals so many times before in the past few weeks, it had become muscle memory as you frantically ran around your kitchen trying to make everything right.

When you could smell the first food in the oven, the normally delicious scent started to make you nervous. You worried about the cast not liking it. Most of them were American or at least Western European. Your mind raced with images of grade school when kids made fun of the way your lunch smelled.

At least they'll pretend to like it, you thought to yourself, knowing it was far too late to turn back now.

You were setting the table- which was actually your kitchen table and a folding table that you had borrowed from your building's lobby covered with a table cloth- when the doorbell rang. You quickly set down the plates you were setting out and rushed to the door.

Scarlett, Lizzie, and Chris Evans had arrived together, each of them greeting you as you entered your apartment.

"Take off your shoes!" you reminded them before rushing back into the dining area. You continued to set the table until you walked in and Lizzie started to help you, passing out utensils where you set plates.

"What smells so good?" Chris said, sniffing the air dramatically. You smiled, telling him the name of the dish.

"My parents used to make it home all the time- it's from our country," you explained. "All the food I made is, actually."

"Really?" Lizzie said, sounding genuinely interested. You smiled wider, happy they didn't seem weirded or grossed out. "You made all of it yourself too?"

"Yeah, it took some practice, but I got it," you answered. "I missed it so much too- you Americans know nothing about food." There was another knock at the door and Chris ran to go get it.

Before you knew it, the entire cast that could make it was sitting around your tables with their plates full. No one had said anything disrespectful or rude about the smells, so you hoped they thought it was okay. You sat on the edge of your seat, waiting for everyone else to take a bite as the normal conversations started to set in.

You visibly relaxed whenever they started to bite and either continued talking or made sounds of approval as they ate.

"This is so good, Y/N," Sebastian said with his mouth full. You smiled as others nodded in agreement.

You thanked them, feeling the weight lift off of your shoulders.

"Good, I'm glad," you smiled, finally taking a bite of the food on your plate.

"How did you learn to make all this?" Scarlett asked.

"I picked some of it up helping my mom with dinner back home, but I've been practicing making these for a bit now," you responded. All your nerves were gone at this point, replaced by a feeling of pride.

By the end of the night, everyone was completely full, many of them taking home leftovers in containers they promised to give back the next day on set. A few begged for recipes, which you gladly gave out. You smiled to yourself that night as you laid down to sleep, reminiscing in the feeling of being appreciated for something you had so long been ashamed of.

[mushynka]

Okay. This is my first fic ever so please read this 🫶

This story is intended for mature audiences (18+). Please note that English is not my first language, so there might be some language errors or awkward phrasing in the text sometimes. Feel free to correct me in the comments. I am still learning english so pls. try not to make too much fun out of me. Additionally, this story may not strictly follow the events as depicted in Marvel films or comics and contains creative deviations. I kindly ask that you do not copy or redistribute my work without permission. Yes. I know it's cringe lmao. Enjoy anyway!

Title: "Building a Future"

Words: "3000" (idk exactly)

Characters: Logan Howlett (Origins) x Fem. reader

The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long, flickering shadows across the cabin’s rustic interior. You sat by the fire, the soft light from the flames dancing across the room, your legs tucked underneath you. The storm outside was fierce—rain pelted the windows, and the wind howled through the trees surrounding the cabin. It was the kind of night that invited quiet moments, the kind where the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you.

Logan, or Wolverine as most people called him, sat opposite you, sharpening one of his knives with a focused expression. He had removed his shirt hours ago, the heat from the fire mixing with the thick layers of tension in his muscles. You couldn’t help but admire the way the flickering light highlighted the intricate scars that lined his chest and arms—reminders of his past, of the battles he had fought, both external and internal.

He glanced up from his work, catching you staring. His lips twitched in a half-smile, a familiar teasing look in his dark eyes.

"What?" he grumbled, though there was no real irritation in his voice. "You don’t need to be that fascinated by my scars. I’m not exactly a masterpiece."

You smiled softly, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking toward him. "Maybe not, but I find them... telling," you said, sitting down beside him. "They show your story. Your history."

Logan sighed, leaning back against the armrest of the chair, his steel-blue eyes meeting yours. "It’s a history I’d rather forget sometimes."

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. His arms, though tough and weathered, still felt reassuring, like home. Logan’s past had always been a complicated subject between you two, and you knew it wasn’t something he opened up about easily. But you didn’t mind. You were patient. You understood that not everything needed to be spoken for it to be real.

The silence between you stretched on, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet where two people could simply exist together, where being with someone was enough, even if the world outside seemed chaotic and uncertain.

"You ever think about... the future?" you asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan didn’t answer immediately. He took a deep breath, his shoulders shifting as if he were preparing for something difficult. "The future," he muttered, staring into the fire. "Not much use in thinking about it. It always seems out of reach."

You nodded, understanding what he meant. Logan had lived a life of endless turmoil, and thinking about a future—about stability, about peace—was a luxury he’d never had. The idea of planning for something long-term seemed almost laughable to him. But you could sense that, deep down, there was a part of him that longed for it.

"I think about it," you admitted, turning your head to meet his eyes. "I think about us... a future where we don’t have to hide, where we don’t have to fight every day."

Logan’s gaze softened, his expression unreadable for a moment. "You mean, like... kids? Family?" he asked, his voice hesitant, as though the word was foreign to him.

You smiled gently, feeling the weight of his words. "Yeah. I don’t know. It’s just a thought. But... I want a family. Maybe not now, but eventually. I want us to have something real."

The idea hung in the air between you like an unspoken promise, delicate and fragile. Logan shifted uncomfortably, his usual guarded demeanor slipping just a little.

"You know my... situation," he said, his voice low, almost apologetic. "I’m not exactly father material."

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. "Logan," you whispered, "I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you to be you. You’ve already proven how much you care."

He turned his hand over to hold yours, the roughness of his calloused fingers in contrast to your softer skin. His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if reassuring himself that this moment wasn’t a dream.

"I’m not sure I’m built for that kind of life," Logan admitted, his voice rough but tender. "I’ve never really had the chance to think about it."

You leaned in, your lips brushing the side of his neck as you whispered, "You don’t have to decide now. Just... know that I’d be happy with whatever we build. Together."

For a long moment, Logan said nothing. But you could feel his body relax beside you, a slight exhale escaping his chest. He wasn’t saying yes. He wasn’t saying no. But for once, he wasn’t shutting down the possibility.

As the night wore on, you found yourself drifting in and out of a comfortable sleep, your head on his shoulder, your fingers laced with his. The rain began to slow, the winds calming to a gentle murmur. But the warmth between you two remained, a quiet promise of something that might one day be, even if it was only a distant hope.

[todorokis-girl]

It's MY Body - Chuuya Nakahara x F!reader

Soulmate AU

When Chuuya Nakahara and Y/N, a member of the Armed Detective Agency, wake up in each other's bodies, they are shocked to discover they are soulmates. Navigating their opposing affiliations, they must find a way to reconcile their feelings and work together.

masterlist

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting golden hues across the room as Y/N stirred awake. She blinked groggily, feeling unusually heavy and disoriented. The bed beneath her felt foreign, the room unfamiliar. Panic surged through her veins as she bolted upright, her breath hitching. She looked down at her hands—hands that were calloused and larger than her own. She was feeling stronger, more agile, and surrounded by the masculine elegance of Chuuya's apartment, though she didn't know it was his quite yet. His hat was perched on a stand by the door, his coat neatly hung, and the lingering scent of his cologne enveloped her. She walked to the mirror, her reflection showing Chuuya's piercing blue eyes and signature red hair.

“What the hell?” she muttered, her voice deep and commanding. Familiar.

Meanwhile, across town, Chuuya Nakahara awoke in a similar state of confusion, in a world entirely foreign. He groaned, rubbing his eyes, only to find them softer and more delicate than he remembered. He sat up, feeling an unaccustomed lightness and the silky sensation of long hair brushing his shoulders. He looked down at himself, eyes widening in shock. he stood up to look at himself in a near by mirror, the reflection staring back was of a young woman with hair cascading around her shoulders, eyes wide with shock.

“Y/N?” he whispered, his voice unfamiliar and soft. "This has to be a joke," he muttered, his voice higher and more feminine.

The two spent the first few hours in a state of utter bewilderment, trying to come to terms with their new realities. Y/N, now in Chuuya's body, felt an overwhelming surge of power coursing through her veins—an intensity she had never experienced before. She struggled to control it, fearing she might unintentionally unleash his ability, Corruption.

Chuuya, on the other hand, found himself in awe of the gentle yet profound connection to nature he felt within Y/N's body. He could sense the wind whispering secrets to him, the plants responding to his emotions, and an innate ability to influence the weather. He marveled at the raw, untamed power that seemed to flow so naturally through her.

After a frantic exchange of phone calls and a hasty meeting, they stood face-to-face in a secluded alleyway, away from prying eyes. The air between them crackled with tension and unspoken questions.

"How did this happen?" Y/N asked, her voice shaky "Did you do this?" The accusatory tone, evident.

"I have no idea," Chuuya replied, crossing his arms and trying to appear composed despite the turmoil inside. "I didn't do this, But we need to figure it out. Fast."

Their eyes locked, a mixture of distrust and curiosity flickering between them. They had always been on opposing sides—Y/N, a dedicated member of the Armed Detective Agency, and Chuuya, a formidable executive of the Port Mafia. Their encounters had always been fraught with tension and conflict, but this was different. This was personal.

As they navigated the complexities of each other's powers, they began to notice subtle, inexplicable connections. Y/N could feel Chuuya's memories and emotions, his fierce determination, and his loyalty. Chuuya, in turn, experienced Y/N's gentle compassion, her unwavering resolve, and her deep connection to the world around her.

It was during a particularly tense moment—when Y/N, in Chuuya's body, struggled to control his ability—that the truth dawned on them. As she faltered, Chuuya instinctively reached out, his touch grounding her, stabilizing the overwhelming power within.

Their eyes met, and in that instant, they knew.

"We're soulmates," Y/N whispered, her voice filled with awe and disbelief.

Chuuya's eyes softened, a rare vulnerability breaking through his usual tough exterior. "Looks like it," he murmured, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Fate has a twisted sense of humor, huh?"

The realization brought a mix of emotions—shock, disbelief, and a strange sense of completion. Despite their differences, despite the chaotic circumstances, they felt an undeniable bond, a connection that transcended their individual selves.

But the weight of their affiliations hung heavy between them. Y/N looked away, her expression conflicted. "Chuuya, we're on different sides. This—this complicates everything."

Chuuya sighed, running a hand through his borrowed hair. "I know. But maybe this is fate's way of telling us there's more to this than just sides."

As the day wore on, they learned to trust each other implicitly, relying on the newfound understanding that being soulmates brought. By the time the sun set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city, they had grown closer than ever before, their shared experiences bridging the gap between their worlds.

When the world shifted once more, returning them to their original bodies, they stood side by side, the weight of their experience settling between them.

"So," Chuuya began, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "wanna come back to my apartment?"

Y/N laughed, her heart lighter than it had been in ages. "Absolutely. Not. I'm still with the Agency."

"And I'm still with the Mafia," Chuuya replied, his tone serious. "But maybe we can find a way to make this work. The universe has spoken, and I'm not in the habit of saying no to a beautiful woman."

She rolled her eyes, overwhelmed and exasperated. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Chuuya smirked, the usual confidence back in his stance. "I've been told. But seriously, Y/N, this is... something neither of us can ignore."

Y/N sighed, her mind racing. The idea of being soulmates with someone from the Port Mafia was ludicrous, yet the connection she felt with Chuuya was undeniable. "I guess we can figure it out as we go," she said, her voice softening. "Just... don't expect me to make it easy for you."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Chuuya replied, his eyes glinting with determination.

As they stood there, side by side, the lines between their worlds blurred just a little. It wouldn't be easy, and the path ahead was uncertain, but for the first time, they felt a flicker of hope. They were bound by something greater than their affiliations—something that defied logic and expectation.

And together, they were ready to face whatever came next.

[kai-malewife]

A Lazy Saturday Morning

Alhaitham x gender neutral!reader

Summary: There is no better place to wake up than in his arms. Shrouded in his scent, intoxicated by his warmth, nothing feels more like home than your lover, Alhaitham.

Warnings: None, just sickingly sweet morning fluff with our favorite scribe <3

Cross-Posted on Ao3 @ Zhonglis_cake_saves_lifes

Link here!

Not too proud of this fic, might edit it later!

It is to the sound of lively twittering that you rouse from your peaceful slumber, stirred to consciousness by the carefree melody of the early morning birds. The sun had already risen, as warm, golden rays filter through the blinds, casting streaks of light across the room and onto your lover. 

Alhaitham, sprawled out next to you on the bed, winces faintly in response to the fierce gleam prompting him to awake in turn. His hold on your waist tightens and he buries his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent in a feeble attempt to cling onto any last remnants of sleep.

‘’Mornin’.’’ Your hand glides through his silver locks, voice permeated with drowsiness.

It elicits a mellow hum from him, and before long, quiet snores fill the room once more, calm and steady.

You simply cannot resist marveling at the serene expression on his countenance; his typically puckered brows now relaxed, mouth slightly ajar, and porcelain skin tinted in the enchanting morning glow. 

The hand which was previously stroking his hair leisurely trails down, its thumb and forefinger now delicately tracing the curve of his face, flesh smooth beneath deft fingertips. The vision bearer quivers briefly at the touch, nevertheless he does not withdraw from it.

For such a prominent figure in the Akademiya, Alhaitham was by no means a morning person. On the surface, one might expect him to be an early riser, up by the first glimmer of dawn to make the most out of his day, given that he valued his precious time above all else. Truth be told, however, reality was otherwise. 

All those lazy mornings spent in one another's embrace spoke for themselves; laced with loving pecks pressed on your temple and tender, lingering caresses that never failed to set your skin ablaze, occasionally resulting in either of you almost turning up late for work. 

Minutes pass with the Scribe snuggled up to you, chest expanding and contracting against your own at a regular pace. But who can blame him? It's Saturday morning, and there's nothing scheduled for the day.

While you wish to loll in the comfort of his muscular arms for a little longer, surely any sign of fatigue has already worn off, and merely lying here, wide awake, was growing rather irksome. Instead, you opt to roll out of bed and get started on breakfast, hoping to greet your beloved with a cup of steaming hot coffee once he awakens.

You struggle to extricate yourself as silently as humanly possible from the iron grasp enclosing you, eventually succeeding only after strenuous exertion. Yet, much to your surprise, no sooner do you set foot on the floor than something pulls you back onto the cushy mattress.

‘’Mm… Don’t go…’’  Alhaitham splays out on top of you, allowing his weight to press against your body, effectively restricting your movements as he grumbles in the shell of your ear, still half asleep.

This scenario was hardly foreign to you, having occurred countless times in the past. A wry smile tugs at your lips as you find yourself engulfed in the warmth of your partner.

‘’Haitham baby, you’re heavy.’’

‘’I know.’’

It earns him a meek jab on the shoulder, which in turn draws an amused chuckle from him, one that you feel reverberating in his chest along with yours. You heave a defeated sigh, like you always do, and yield to your fate; ensnared in his affectionate grip until he finally decrees that It’s time for his daily caffeine fix.

‘’You’re unbelievable.’’

‘’Love you too, honey.’’

And perhaps this is not so bad after all. 

Azur irises lock onto yours as you plant a final, chaste kiss on his forehead. And so, lulled by the soothing rhythm of his heartbeat, an unexpected weariness resurfaces, gradually carrying you back to the land of dreams together with the one you love…

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Three

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: just Tom perving on reader

— WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

I

Tom had a number of other establishments on his list, all in further parts of the city that he hadn’t been to yet, but he decided to start the day where the previous one had ended: Casa Ur. If asked, he probably couldn’t answer why. Or perhaps he could give many answers: it was the closest of the promising ones relative to his hotel; it was in one of the oldest parts of the city; it occupied a sizable plot and seemed full from floor to roof with books… All adequate justifications in his mind.

He stepped through its oak doors — which were heavy but feeble around the hinges, windows trembling within their frames — and a bell announced him. He was struck first of all by how cold and dark it was inside. Some marvellous trick of architecture seemed to insulate the shop from what went on at its exterior. The part of him accustomed to the Slytherin common room felt right at home there. Tom hissed in pleasure.

He cast his eyes around before he took another step, and found his decision to come there thoroughly justified: shelves stocked up to the ceiling so high he had to crane his neck. They stood as tightly packed as could be, their covers with a sturdy sheen to them that wasn’t seen in modern books. If there were forgeries among them, they were well concealed. Smaller editions were tucked wherever a space could be found on top of bigger volumes. Some larger books, so big the shelves wouldn’t have held them, were laid out horizontally on tables here and there. To the left, he could see a large open door that showed more of the same beyond it. To the right, a crimson curtain — probably the clerk’s office.

There was something to see everywhere. In the vitrines were all manner of assorted trinkets, old photographs and jewels and medals, the leftovers of nobility. Against the walls, tall paintings of ruins, fortresses, and kings. A phonograph held pride of place on a pedestal between two lamps, and crystal chandeliers hung over everything, unlit yet still silently shining.

And in the middle of it, her.

The clerk was a woman, a prim and pretty figure with her hair pinned up, her body fastened in a pale grey suit. Her pointy shoes were fixed to the floor in a half-abandoned step. She stood before her desk like a rabbit surprised outside its burrow. If he had any self-awareness, Tom would have noted that she looked at him in much the same way as he looked at the books.

“Buongiorno,” said Tom tentatively. “Cerco un libro.”

“Buongiorno,” she said, smiling instantly. “And erm, it’s alright, we can speak in English.”

“Ah. Is it that obvious?”

Her cheeks filled with a teasing smile, and she eyed him knowingly. If it wasn’t his accent, his complexion certainly gave him away.

“Well, it takes one to know one, I suppose,” she said.

Tom hummed and looked her up and down once more.

“So, what book are you looking for?”

“What do you have?”

“Books on a wide range of topics, from gothic novels to books of hours, and the largest collection of incunabula for sale in Rome. We keep only the rarest, the oldest editions,” she said with a measure of pride and joy.

He stepped closer, looking more closely at the volumes on the shelves as he passed them by. She stepped forth to meet him, observing him all the while.

“I’m looking for Isis Unveiled, volumes one and two. The older the better,” he said, naming an ordinary book of esoterica off the top of his head. He wanted first to test her knowledge and the breadth of her collection.

She smiled immediately, her eyes shining.

“By Helena Blavatsky? We have her, although I’m not sure we keep any first editions here. One moment, please. I will check.”

She hardly finished saying it before she turned and stepped through that imposing door on the left.

Tom followed her at a respectable distance, hand tucked casually in his trouser pocket. The darkness and the coolth around them, the tall heavy furniture, the echoing of steps against old wood, it all made him feel so comfortable and safe. It was nothing like the cluttered mess at Borgin and Burkes, where you could hardly walk for fear of tripping over something.

He stepped through the doorway after her. A broad table dominated the centre of this new room, holding an array of decorative lamps. Ladders reached up into the darkness by the bookcases that lined the walls. She pulled one toward her.

“So if you don’t keep first editions here, where do you keep them?”

“It’s not that we don’t keep any firsts, just not sure if we have hers,” she said as she began to climb. “I shall take a look anyway.” It was a clever evasion, not telling him if they had any other shops, or perhaps a secret storage place somewhere.

She went up and up the rows, all unmarked in any way, with surety. Tom had to admire her familiarity with the place, her naked knowledge. He could assume by now that she’d worked there for a while, but there was no way she was the owner. Too young, and as a foreigner, she was unlikely to have inherited it.

He held the ladder for her. The higher she went, the less Tom saw of her — and the more he saw of her. Those dainty leather shoes showed their soles to him, and above, her legs stretched on. Calves flexed in their silky stockings, disappearing in the tightness of her skirt like snakes. The slit of her skirt showed a hint of the back of her thighs every time she took a step upward, and then hid it again. It was the most cruel sort of striptease, and Tom felt its effects pool warmly at the centre of his abdomen.

“Nineteen twenty-one,” she said.

“What?”

“Our oldest edition. Is that good enough?”

“I’m… not sure. May I see it?”

She pulled out the first volume and gingerly climbed down with it until she was a few steps above the floor, and from there bent and handed it to Tom. He was close enough to feel the scent of the back of her knees. Dust and sweat and bergamot, delicious flesh.

“Ahem, thank you,” he said, parting the pages. He caught in passing the glimpse of a ring on her finger, a heavy signet carved into carnelian. It took a few moments for his mind to catch up on what he was reading. “This is in French,” he frowned.

“It’s the oldest of hers we have,” she shrugged, holding onto the railing like a wild nymph. “We have other books of hers if you prefer. I saw a copy of The Voice of the Silence, first edition, 1889.”

Tom hummed thoughtfully as he looked into her eyes. She squirmed at the attention.

“There are a few other places that might have it,” she said, twisting the tip of her shoe against the steps playfully. “But I’m not sure if they take just any clients. Most first editions of such authors are in private collections.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“I do.”

Tom smiled and brought the book closer for his inspection. His fingertips caressed the cover, testing its make. The pages were thick, the writing clear. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the crisp scent, then held several pages in his hand and slowly let them cascade from beneath his thumb, his ear held close.

“It’s not a forgery,” she giggled, realising what he was doing.

“Just checking,” Tom smiled up at her. He held onto the ladder with one hand and gave her back the book. “Thank you.”

She nodded and climbed back, putting it in its place.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t satisfy,” she said on her way up.

“You might yet,” he purred, letting his eyes wander. “A list of those other bookshops might be handy.”

She gazed down at him, and even in the darkness of her high perch he could tell that she was blushing. She held her legs closer together as she climbed back down.

“I never said I could tell you who they were,” she teased once she stood before him, brushing a stray curl away with the back of her hand. “Most are quite exclusive.”

Tom looked into her eyes a moment, a cold smile on his face. It made her tense. With the quick prodding of Legilimency, he could tell that she wasn’t saying something untrue, but there was slightly more to it — more than even she was privy to. Shadows in her knowledge that she was well aware of.

“Quite unfair,” he said.

“It’s a small circle, Mr…”

“Riddle. Tom Riddle.”

“Well, Mr. Riddle, could I have your number?”

“What?”

“In case I find that book you’re looking for. I will make some inquiries.”

“Ah, well… I’m staying at the Gallienus, for now.”

She nodded and walked past him, going out of the room and toward her writing desk. Tom followed.

He looked once more around at the books. So many of them… And she seemed to know where each author was by heart. It must’ve been a challenge to work in a place like that if she was telling the truth and these groups were more ‘exclusive’. He doubted any real witchcraft took place in any of them, but it seemed that muggles still had their pride. His glance slid back to her, just enough to catch her bent over for a second as she wrote his hotel down.

“Is there anything else I could help you with?” she asked, straightening herself — only to catch him staring. She glared.

“Not right now,” Tom smiled, then turned to leave. “Thank you.”

He could feel her eyes at the back of his neck, a trembling chill while the sun beat against his face as he approached the door. With a quick breath and a pause, he pivoted to look at her again.

“Oh yes, there was something I wanted to ask.”

She held his gaze, her eyes inscrutable.

“I’m also looking for something a little older. Say, from around 1650?”

“We have even older than that.”

“Specifically, something by Aristide Torchia.”

“Most of his works were burned by the Holy Inquisition...”

“So you don’t have anything by him? Nor any of his… friends?”

“Torchia didn’t have any friends,” she chuckled.

“He had at least one,” Tom shrugged.

She smiled slowly, knowingly. He liked that look on her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just out of curiosity, really,” Tom shrugged. “I know it is being sought after in France by some collectors. Thought I might as try my luck. But, as you say, it’s a long shot.”

“If I come across it,” she said, lifting the note with his hotel up.

“Yes, you know where to find me,” Tom smirked. “Well, arrivederci.”

“Arrivederci, signor Riddle.”

II

Tom was at his third coffee, another one of the sacrifices he had to make for Borgin. The buzzing of couples and merchants and passing Vespas cluttered what would have been a serene scenery of tall white statutes, proud buildings, crumbling columns holding it all together. An inspiring sight even for a cynic like him.

But he was there with a purpose.

She left work at half past five, closing the door behind her and locking it in several places. The windows had only darkness behind them then, the writing on them faded gold. Tom abandoned his cold coffee and threw a few lire on the table. He got up to pursue her. Dipping between narrow buildings, he quickly pulled his wand out and obscured himself. A part of him wanted her to see him, to know that he was there, but perhaps they could play cat and mouse a little later.

Her grey figure swayed left and right, quick steps through the alley, high heels hitting the cobblestones leaving small echoes behind. Fully clothed, even in this weather, the nape of her neck was the only naked skin he could see. The sheer stockings didn’t count; they obscured the flesh of her calves in a honeyed gauze that, although sweet, didn’t satisfy him. Her pinned hair sat tightly at the crown of her head, a few loose curls trembling in the breeze.

He walked with her, waited with her, sat with her, all of it just a few paces away. It was a novel experience, to walk with someone like that. It was different than with Clement, who was like a fly he couldn’t swat. This felt like… companionship. Like a silent friendship the sort of which he hadn’t had since childhood, if ever.

She was different here from how she was when they met face to face. Staring out of invisible eyes, Tom noticed just how drained she looked, how exhausted, almost angry. Her lips were pulled into a low and dour line, her brows were slightly furrowed, and her eyes had a delicate sadness about them the sort he’d only read about in books. Had her good cheer at seeing him all been just an act? Perhaps she was just that talented a saleswoman… There was, after all, a certain amount of emotional labour involved in any client-facing job. Tom knew all about it.

He got to see a new side of Rome while travelling with her. Less touristy, more quotidian, more quiet — or perhaps the better word was ‘dull’. The rickety tram she took, the piss-stained streets she walked, the crumbling building she lived in, were not the worst Tom had ever seen… But if he was being honest, he’d expected better. There was something of Knockturn Alley about the place.

From the sparkling piazza surrounded by monuments and statues like a quiet lake between the mountains, the architecture contracted and modernised. A strange counterpose of industry and squalor grew — closer and closer together. Façades cracking, windows smogged, the scent of animal blood in the air. Tom could no longer point out where the claustrophobic feeling started, but he was in the vortex of it by the time he stood outside her window.

There was a cellar bar just across the street, and patrons had already begun to sing inside. Their warbled voices reached him like cries from hell. Beside it, an empty restaurant that advertised a hostel on the upper floor. A bit further on the street, an old bookshop, boarded up. Pigeons flew in flocks overhead and between the windows of other flats above hung wires heavy with white laundry.

Everything seemed very… entrepreneurial. Just locals filling in the void left by an indifferent Rome. They seemed like parts of different cities, although one was merely the outgrowth of the other containing the people that fell over the sides. It was at once both loud and quiet. Filled with people, filled with nothing.

The thought of her living here made his nose curl — or maybe it was the scent of urine coming from the bar. Tom ignored the memory of his own pathetic lodgings near Borgin and Burkes.

He turned and looked around once more, and tried to remember where the tram line was.

[itgirlgyu]

COLGATE CRUSH | choi beomgyu.

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader ft. huening kai.

genre: fluff, crack.

summary : because of your undeniable curiousity, and lack of survival instincts you end up meeting the junoesque artist, choi beomgyu, and his oddities.

word count: 1.4k.

warnings: illogical made up professions, there's some violence (one line), reader is very curious, beomgyu thinks he got rizz.

"this is how i might end up dead someday."

you had no concrete idea how you found yourself in front of a building undergoing construction; especially when it looked like there might have been a case of aggravated assault etching the history of the eerie institution.

the very first thing that you can recollect was probably the chime of the ice cream man that lured you into an empty alley lined up by the blossoms blessed by spring, and the gentle breeze of nonage, and once you had got your hands on the vanilla cone, you kept wondering into the strange place. curious eyes marveling the unfamiliarity of the street, until of course you found yourself standing in front of the said building.

'if i see no sign from the heavens preventing me from entering this sketchy building then I'll probably still be alive,' is what you thought right before you nearly got trampled by two idiots in a razor scooter with one of them holding a giant rock in his hands, yelling some things along the lines of, "ill bash his head in with this!"

you may have been lucky enough to get your feet trampled over that death vehicle, but that was not the case for another person walking along the road. the man, victim, laid on the floor while holding his feet as some brilliantly colorful curse words flew over his mouth and the two offenders, standing there while profusely apologized to the man.

this would have been a supposed sign from god if you were gifted with the blessings of being self aware—but since that had not been the case for you, along with the fact that your bad luck had bled onto the other person— you were pretty sure of the fact that instead of warning you of any impending danger that awaited you depending on your action, has been warded off successfully.

so you step inside of the damned property; breaking off the sheath of protection, and entering the land of foreign, filled with nothing but cement, and broken debris of bricks. there had been nothing new to explore, plus the added anxiety of hurting yourself at every step increased the pace of your heartbeat; and you couldn't deny the fact that it didn't excite you.

amongst the mucronate end of iron rods sticking out, and half made walls your eyes captured something—a single panel of windows installed. it intrigued you as you approached it cautiously, stepping over the sharp objects laid on the dirty floor, your eyes focused on the peculiar scratching on the glass. the crack swirling into an enchanting ornate design as if it had been crafted by hands, and not born out of a misjudged trifling accident. the broken rays of sun streaming through the gaps of the cracks casting a riveting image onto the floor with you as its muse, compelling you to move closer to learn more about it's unrivaled individuality.

"its so beautiful," you couldn't help but wonder out loud, as your fingers dipped into the clementine shadow the drowning sun casted onto your fingers through the art before you, carefully enough not to go close to the sharp edges of the charmer.

"isn't it?" you twirled around almost immediately to the owner of the voice, and maybe turning around that fast might have not been the best idea as your lungs empty the air out of your system—or that might have been the breathtaking beauty of the mystery man before you with the healthiest long hair you've ever seen, and the most precious lips.

"uh-" you paused, words failing you as you fumbled in front of the beautiful stranger, but maybe the god was actually on your side today. instead of scowling at you for trespassing, or coming off as a creep, he actually laughed at your awestruck expression, as he slightly adjusted his bangs. alluring bruises, and adorable band aids covering the expanse of his winsome hands stirring awake the incessant need to know about the beautiful stranger before you.

maybe his eyes caught the way your gaze followed the movement of his hands, and he somehow smelled of your curiosity as he put on a bewitching smirk, and took a step closer.

"I'm beomgyu, i actually am a professional window scratcher." the beautiful stranger, beomgyu, introduced himself, putting forth his hand for you to shake. you gently put your hands in his, providing him with the confidence to sneak in a squeeze before he lets go.

there's exactly two thoughts swirling in your head: first was the pride that swelled in your heart for recognising art when you first saw it. you're just one step away from becoming the next best socialite at this rate, and the second one was the fact you were almost flirting with one of the prettiest men you've ever come across who is actually the creator of the art as well!

"you-" you stumbled on your words as your eyes widen to hide your excitement—calming the high pitch in your voice you turned around to point to the art, and face him, " you made this?"

beomgyu nodded, the halcyon lines of his eyes tugging at the ends of his lips, as the cheeky smirk melted into a smile dipped in fondness. unbeknownst to the both of you, he took another step closer to you.

"oh i forgot to introduce myself," you chided yourself, and gave him your name.

"that's a pretty name," he commented, "for a pretty girl."

you could assume that he had the full view of your blushing cheeks by the way his lips tugged at the corner. you tried to hush away all the butterflies that started to emerge into your stomach at his silly comments you know he doesn't even mean.

"im being truthful, you're the most beautiful girl I've laid my eyes on," He comes in closer, and closer—until there's only a shy line of invisible distance between the two of you, taunting you for it's presence. even though it feels wrong, you feel like it's the right thing to do, so you look up at his starry eyes, through your eyelashes to show your approval.

words held not much of importance of the strings of your heart tangled, and you could feel beomgyu tugging yours as he gently grabbed the sides of your lips and pulled you close to him.

what you had not expected from this comely artist to have the stinkiest breath that you ever had the misfortune to smell. you tried your best to hold your breath as he moved closer to you. the unbearable stench of filth assaulted the inside of your nostrils—you could hear the sizzle of your nose hair burning off in the acidic smell of his breath—but you persisted for your new found love, well until he opened his mouth, that's when the world blacked out as the lack of oxygen, and the insufferable smell of his mouth knocked you out of consciousness, and to some degree, your misery.

"if you're afraid to come closer to your loved one because of the fear of something like this happening," huening kai, korea's best mc appeared into the camera holding a mic to his mouth, as he pointed at your unconscious self, and a hyperventilating beomgyu holding your pinky with his own as he cried your name, praying for you to wake up.

"don't worry because we have the perfect solution!" huening kai held up a packet of colgate next to his face, staring straight into the camera with a grin with a similar voidity of the black hole—might not be wholesome but at least it sucks you in!

"colgate—no need to be afraid to fall in love!" huening kai explained, and threw the packet at beomgyu, who caught it and brushed his teeth immediately. as soon as the paste touched his teeth, it's as if life was breathed into you by some miraculous spells. your body jolting forward, as you lovingly gazed at beomgyu and the foam in his mouth, almost dripping as he shook in happiness to see you conscious. you giggled at his excitement, and scooped some of the foam that was holding onto it's life by his chin and put it back into his teeth.

"i was so scared of losing you," beomgyu cried out, splattering you with the foam, but you didn't mind as his minty fresh love coated your skin. coloring you ivory in his love—this time you closed the gap between you two and smelled the scent of love directly from the source.

" i will never leave you."

"curating love stories all around!" huening kai yelled, holding up the the colgate as he wiggled his squatted body to come to the center of the camera in order to block you and beomgyu, "colgate!"

"AND THAT'S A WRAP!"

NOꕀT. ִֶָ E : COLGATE SPONSOR ME?!?!!?

i know ive been awfully ia that's why i really wanted to comeback with a writing as awful as this,, but this idea! is so dear to heart because my favourite writer and my best friend came up with this and i just had to write it!! sometimes ill get her on tumblr one day for sure!!! PS the pedestrian the two dumbasses ran over was yeonjun, and the two dumbasses were soobin and taehyun. taehyun being the one with the big ass rock.

PERM〞TAGLIST— @impureperhaps

©ITGIRLGYU—feedbacks are so so so appreciated and ill love you forever!!

[hrefna-the-raven]

Can I request an Aziraphale x male!Demon!reader (Crowley's twin or something and they can be gn or any gender you're comfortable with)

The reader acts like Gomez Addams whenever Aziraphale slips up any foreign language, like the reader will pop out of nowhere (whether they're in their pajamas/bathrobe or wearing an apron) just to kiss/make out with the angel.

Crowley will be gagging in the background.

Hi,

I'm so sorry this took soooooo damned long but I got distracted and by the end my draft was sitting like ages there, giving me that disapproving stare for neither working on it nor posting it, so I decided to finally post it (despite not being 100% satisfied with that little drabble^^) but I do hope you enjoy it 😊

Speak French to me

Words: 405

In the grand tapestry of existence, there was a love story that defied expectations. A love story that spanned aeons, interwoven with the unpredictable dance of destiny. It was a story that began with intrigue and compassion, centered around the angel Aziraphale and you, Crowley's little sister from hell.

Throughout the ages, captivated by Aziraphale's kind-hearted attempts to help not only humanity but also your demon brother, Crowley, you observed him from the shadows, admiring his quirky nature and the sweetness that radiated from his very being and marveling at the angel's unwavering dedication to guiding humanity towards the path of goodness, even in the face of your brother's mischievous jests. The more you watched, the deeper your affection for Aziraphale grew. But it wasn't until the 1800s, amid the backdrop of Victorian London and after the impatient persuasion attempts of your brother, that you finally mustered the courage to confess your love to Aziraphale.

To your delight, he reciprocated your feelings, and from that moment on, you became inseparable. The angel's white wings and gentle smile became a constant source of comfort, but there was one thing that never failed to stir a wild frenzy within you: French. Yes, whenever Aziraphale spoke in that melodic language, it was as if your heart burst with affection, drowning you in a sea of adoration and passion. It didn't matter what you were doing or where you were, whenever those French words slipped from his lips, you failed to resist, ignoring the world around you as you ran towards him, held his hand gently, trailing a path of sweet kisses up his arm while whispering "mon cher".

"Hey, I'm still sitting here", Crowley shouted annoyed, rolling his eyes at your antics, "and get a room!"

You and Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh, enjoying Crowley's exasperated reaction. It was your secret indulgence to tease the demon with your unabashed displays of affection. After all, what better way to entertain yourselves than to playfully rile up the demon while still getting your fair share of love?

Your face was always adorned with a delightful smile, feeling a mischievous spark ignite within you whenever your angel was around. It was as if Aziraphale's French language proficiency had cast a spell on you, exorcising the demonic out of you by turning you into a love-struck fool. But hey, who could resist such a charming angel? Probably not even the devil himself...

[professorrw]

Cheerleader Pt. 7

☆stranger things masterlist☆

Pairing: female reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Y/n and Chrissy are best friends, but when she dies, she knows things aren’t as everyone seems to think. Maybe Eddie is innocent.

Warnings: SPOILERS for ST4, teen drinking, partying, drugs, death, violence, cursing, fluff, some angst, potentially more

A/N: AHHHH I'm so ready for volume 2!!!! Requests open (Stranger Things, Marvel, Harry Potter), taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

The sun had set in Hawkins by the time you got home and were done eating dinner. Your father had, as expected, stayed silent while you all ate your mom’s homemade spaghetti. The only time Harold said anything was when your mother started sniffling a little too loudly for his taste. “Martha,” he had grumbled.

“Sorry,” she replied, casting her gaze at her barely eaten food.

After that you swapped your silver fork to your left hand, which wasn’t your dominant one, so your right hand could hold onto your mothers. She gave you a meek smile and squeezed your hand. 

She loved Chrissy and it was more than reasonable for her to be upset. Of all your friends, she was the only one that talked to your mom and let her get involved. Due to her own mother's neglect, Chrissy welcomed it, though she was shy at first. In the three years the two of you had been best friends, your mom had begun to think of Chrissy as her own daughter too.

You stayed behind after dinner to help wash the dishes, letting your mom relax instead of clean up.

You glanced at the clock on the living room wall. It was almost eight o’clock. Tossing the damp towel on the counter you headed up to your room. The backpack you had used earlier had been discarded on your bed, and you picked it up to pack things in it again. This time around you thought more carefully about what you would take with you, thinking of what Eddie might want to use. Your Walkman of course. And if you were taking your Walkman you would need some cassettes. You didn’t have a lot, and you were pretty sure Eddie didn’t listen to Kate Bush or Foreigner. You did however have a Metallica cassette, which your metalhead cousin gifted you at Christmas. You put all three cassettes, plus the Clash and the Police ones in your backpack.

You threw on a jacket, put your shoes on, grabbed your car keys, and you were out the door. Driving through the woods to Lover’s Lake, trees whizzing past, you hoped that Eddie wouldn’t be upset that you left him for so long. A part of you hoped he missed you, but you would understand if he didn’t. You hadn’t known each other for very long, no matter how much fun you guys had the night before. If anything, Eddie probably just wants company, no matter who it was. It probably wouldn’t make any difference to him if it were you or someone else, you thought, making yourself frustrated at the idea. 

You didn’t want to think that you liked him. It was… unreasonable. You barely knew each other, so you just couldn't like him. How long does it take before you can say that you like someone? you wandered. Did you like Eddie? Maybe. You knew for sure that you enjoyed his company, and you liked being around him, and you thought his smile was the most radiant thing you had ever seen and you could stare at it forever. Yeah… you liked him. It was terrible timing though. He was on the run from the police and Jason. The entire town was after him. But maybe once his name is cleared…

“Shit,” you cursed, seeing Jason’s SUV in the driveway of Reefer Rick’s house. You shut your car off just off the road, not pulling up to the house just in case one of the basketball players noticed it. You remembered how Eddie had hidden in the shed on the water whenever you weren’t there, so that’s probably where he was hiding now. You tried to be as quiet as possible, moving along the tree line down to the shed in the darkness. Leaves and branches crunched under your step while you carefully walked. Once you made it to the gray tin building you knocked on the door and as quietly as you possibly could said, “Eddie!”

A chill swept through the air as you waited there, casting nervous glances towards the main house. Maybe Jason and the rest of them wouldn’t see the shed at all. They weren’t the brightest so you wouldn’t put it past them. You heard a click come from the other side of the door and it finally creaked open just a sliver. You could see just a peak of Eddie’s eye, presumably making sure it was really you.

He opened the door more, just enough for you to slip in and then immediately shut it back and locked it. “Thank god you’re here,” the brunette said, tension releasing from his person. “I’ve been trying to contact Henderson but I couldn’t get a response.”

“Yeah I went by Nancy’s house and none of them were there. I have no clue where they could be,” you said, looking at Eddie. He looked the same, if not just a bit more freaked out and unkept.

“Well that’s fan-fucking-tastic,” he said sarcastically. He walked over to the window that you could see the house through. “We don’t have much time. They obviously aren’t gonna be able to help us so we need to help ourselves.” He tossed some stuff into the boat that was floating in the water and climbed in. 

You raised your eyebrows when he reached out a hand, but you knew that this was really the only option. You took his hand and climbed in too, taking a seat across from him. It rocked conspicuously, causing you to gulp and grip the sides. You laughed nervously.

“Hey,” Eddie said. “It’ll be okay.” He looked at you with concerned eyes, not budging until you nodded in agreement. He picked up the oars and started rowing the boat out into the open water and out of its place in the shed. The water was pitch black; there was nothing to see other than your distorted reflection peering back at you. If you were being honest the entire air was eerie. Then again, it was late at night, and you were aware that something supernatural was going on in Hawkins. You accepted that fact so quickly it was crazy.

Eddie was able to row the boat a few yards from the dock before you saw Jason and Patrick. “Oh fuck,” you said.

“Hey freaks!” Jason yelled, headed towards the edge of the water. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Eddie turned around and saw them, fear evident in his eyes. He dropped the oars and instead started working on the engine. “Come on you piece of shit.”

Back on land Jason and Patrick started undressing.

“Jason don’t you dare come out here!” you yelled.

“Y/l/n you’re just as much of a freak as he is! He killed Chrissy and you’re helping him! He must’ve brainwashed you or something!”

“Eddie didn’t kill Chrissy!” you yelled back. No matter what you said he wasn’t going to listen. He started wading into the water at an alarming rate, coming towards the boat rapidly. Curse his athleticism.

“Fuck!” Eddie yelled. The engine wasn’t starting, just sputtering out each time he pulled the mechanism. He picked the oar back up and began rowing faster than he was before, but Jason was fast. Shockingly fast.

The two of you swapped places, not by your choice but because Eddie had climbed to the front of the boat to paddle. You got out of his way, sitting at the back of the boat and keeping your eye on the two basketball players that were advancing on you. “God Jason stay back! Turn around!”

Jason turned around and looked at Patrick, who was still in the water, and looking around dazed. “Come on man! We almost have them!” No response. “Patrick. Patrick!” he repeated.

“Oh my god!” you shouted after Patrick was sucked down into the water suddenly. “Jason, get him!”

Eddie had stopped paddling, and all three of you stared at the water where Patrick was just moments prior.

“Patrick!” Jason continued to shout.

“Go after him you idiot!” you yelled at Jason. Not a second later something burst through the surface, spraying you with cold water. Against the background of the dark sky was Patrick, suspended by absolutely nothing in midair. You watched in horror as his body contorted and twisted in unnatural ways. It was the most horrific thing you had ever seen in your life. Words could never represent or recreate what you were seeing. As soon as it started, it ended and Patrick’s lifeless body dropped back into the water like an anchor being tossed over the side of a ship.

“Y/n, y/n,” Eddie said, voice trembling. “We need to leave. We have to get out of here.” You heard him but no words were registering in your mind. You were still in shock from the scene you had just witnessed. “Y/n!” he shouted, grabbing your face to get your attention. “We have to leave!” His movements caused the boat to rock violently, and paired with the wake from Patrick’s body the boat tipped, sending you both into the water.

The sudden coldness shot through your body, and paralyzed you. The entire world was a blur. You couldn’t see straight and all noises sounded muted. You felt something tugging on you, pulling you upwards. Your head broke the water's surface, finally allowing you to breathe. It wasn’t a gentle type of breathing, it was gasping -gulping- for air; you could barely get enough into your lungs and even then they were searing with pain.

Blinking hundreds, if not thousands of times you were finally able to see. Eddie was a foot in front of you, searching your face frantically. “Y/n? Can you hear me? Can you hear me?”

You tried to reply but instead coughed up more water. “Y- yeah.”

“Okay,” he let out a breath. He searched for your hand in the water, pulling you closer to him and towards the boat. It was a miracle that it didn’t turn over when you both fell into the water. He managed to hoist himself back up in the boat and then help you climb in too. Your soaked clothes clung to your body, your hair stuck to your face, and your teeth chattered. Eddie was the same exact way, though he was more frantic to get moving than you were. He had already picked the oar back up and started rowing again.

You looked at him, then turned to look at Jason. He floated in the water, saying nothing and doing nothing, just staring at where Patrick had been mere moments before. Why was this town so riddled with death? Why of all towns, must it be Hawkins? Countless innocent people dead, and for what?

“What the fuck,” you said after a few minutes of silence. You could no longer see Jason or Reefer Rick’s house, which would probably be a crime scene tomorrow.

“What the fuck,” Eddie repeated.

“What was that?” you asked.

“It must be the same thing that got Chrissy. The exact same thing happened to her.” He said it quietly. You imagined how it must have felt for Eddie to see what happened to Patrick happen to Chrissy. If you had seen it you would be traumatized. Hell, you were traumatized. That image was something you would never get out of your head. It was so utterly terrifying. You shivered, making Eddie look guilty. “I’m sorry… about tipping us over. Now we’re cold and wet and miserable.”

“It’s okay, you didn’t mean to,” you said, giving him a small smile.

“Yeah but-”

You cut him off, “No buts Eddie. You didn’t mean to and you have done nothing wrong. You pulled me out of the water and you’ve been rowing this entire time. I should be thanking you.”

“No you shouldn’t. I- All I’ve been doing is running away. I’m a coward. You’re the brave one,” he said.

You reached out and set your hand on his. “You are nowhere near a coward. And I’m not brave. I’m scared. Scared to death. I don’t know what’s about to happen and neither do you. None of us do. But I do know that we’re going to get through this. Everything is going to work out and be okay in the end. We’re gonna be okay. And maybe-” you sucked in some air. “Maybe we could hang out or something.” That wasn’t what you wanted to say at all. You did want to hang out but did the way you say it make it sound strictly platonic? You sucked at confessions.

He smirked, “You want to hang out with me?”

“Eddie!” you said, face turning red with embarrassment. “You missed the whole point of what I said.”

“No, no, I heard you. And if you think everything is going to be okay then so do I. But do you want to hang out with me?” he added.

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

“Hm?” he hummed. You knew he heard you, he was just picking at you at this point.

“Yes Eddie, I want to hang out with you.” You could barely make out his features but you could tell he was grinning.

“Good, good,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“So… what do we do now?” You were still in the water, it was the middle of the night, or close to it, you couldn’t be sure, and you had nowhere to go.

“Well, I think we should try to contact Henderson first.” Eddie stopped rowing and pulled his walkie-talkie out. Water was dripping from it. Not good. He pressed the button and tried talking but nothing was happening. There wasn’t even static. “Shit.”

“We could try getting to land and finding somewhere to sleep. Or we can keep rowing. It’s up to you.” No matter what he decided it wasn’t going to be too comfortable. Both had disadvantages. If you got out of the water and decided to try to sleep, where would you even do it? If you decided to stay in the boat neither of you would get any sleep.

“Let’s get to land and then we’ll go from there.”

“Alright.”

Some time later Eddie found a spot. You dragged the boat up onto the dirt and started searching. The two of you walked through the trees so close together that your hands would occasionally brush against each other. Neither of you pulled them back when it happened. There was some kind of comfortable silence. At least when it came to talking. The forest made a variety of noises, like branches snapping under foot and the leaves rustling up above and the random small animals that would scurry away. 

You weren’t entirely familiar with the area, but Eddie seemed to be somewhat accustomed to it. You came up on a large boulder, which made Eddie stop. “It’s Skull Rock.”

“It’s what?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“Here, look.” He took your hand and guided you around the rock, then had you take a few steps back. There it was, a skull shape in the boulder.

“It’s a notorious makeout spot actually,” Eddie said.

You looked at him with raised eyebrows. He looked back at you with a sly smile and shrugged. “I promise it’s a coincidence.”

“U-huh.”

“I guess we can set up camp here for the night and go looking around in the morning.” He looked down at his watch and tapped it a few times. “The damn thing is broken. Probably from when we fell in the water. We can live without it I guess.” He put his hands on his hips and took a good look at your digs for the night. It wasn’t great but it would do.

You took your jacket off and spread it out on the ground under the rock. Goosebumps rose on your arms immediately so you wrapped your arms around yourself and rubbed. You parked your ass on the ground and waved Eddie over. Your backpack was a softish material, one similar to a satchel, so you set it down like a pillow.

Eddie had noticed that you were cold and started shrugging out of his denim vest and leather jacket, prepared to hand them over to you. “No, no, come here,” you said, patting the spot next to you.

He obliged and took a seat. His eyes went wide when you scooted up against him, back to back. Without having to be told- because that’s what he wanted to do- he set his jackets on top like a blanket and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Is this okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he breathed out. You were so warm he could feel you through his shirt. And you smelled so good. He thought about how he probably smelled. He hadn’t showered in days and he had been in water and in the woods. He internally cursed, hoping that he didn’t smell too unpleasant to you.

“Y/n,” Eddie whispered.

“Hm?”

“I want to hang out with you too.”

Cheerleader Taglist: @felicityofbakerstreet @waifu4lifeu @1twontalwaysbelikethiss @i-bitch-you-bitch @chipster-21 @jay-swoohoo @lydiaveronicasgf @heyyimlaynna @xoyouronlyamorrxo @crunchytoenailsyum @bilesxbilinskixlahey @ljaneyx @bubblebuttwade @captain-satan @mariastaru @miahxelizabeth @vaness20 @are-y0u-sirius @teapartydreams @ollqos @laurykat23

Eddie Munson Taglist: @teenagegoateecollectorposts @linkpk88

Taglist: @23victoria

[silver-pieces]

bathed in light

Pairing: Sif x gn!reader

Word Count: 868

Synopsis: Two lovers reunited.

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT READ OR INTERACT, smut (implied, kissing, nudity), implied war violence & death, tw: blood mention, angsty

A/N: The Celtic Woman cover of Black Is The Colour came on my playlist while I was writing this and it fits this drabble so well?!

Welcome to Day 10 of Marvel Girlfriend May!! I am slowly doing my best to catch up. As always, reblogs are greatly appreciated if you enjoy my writing :)

Divider ❊ Masterlist ❊ More Sif ❊ Taglist

Heimdall’s voice calls to Sif from afar, his booming voice reaching her across a battlefield of enemies now slain. She barely has time to react, before electric rainbow light cascades over her like a waterfall.

Against the whooshing in her ears, she tilts her head back, closes her eyes, and breathes, bathing in the light of the bifrost.

It’s hard to wrap her head around what’s happening - that it’s finally time to come home. To see you again.

Her feet carry her across the bridge, barely able to acknowledge Heimdall when she can finally see Asgard once more. Her eyes turn westward, seeking your place from afar.

Are you still there? Did you wait for her?

The bloodied warrior finds herself trailing the streets of gold and red, winding a path towards you. There’s a hesitancy weighing in her limbs now, a black hole beneath her breast.

The door to your house is unlocked. She recalls reminding you to keep it locked before she left, frowning as she gently pushes it open. Why don’t you listen?

Afternoon light casts the room in a red haze, and the hollowness in her chest grows as she takes in the unfamiliar setting. Your place looks different now. New furniture. There’s a new painting hanging on the wall, a fresh basket of fruit on the table, and it’s a lot more clean and organised than before. The scent of vanilla greets her, and it’s a foreign sensation, so different to the smell of blood and sweat and metal she has grown used to.

Goddess, she should have bathed.

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches sight of the painting again, and turns to see it fully.

Shock washes over her as she takes it in for the first time. It’s one you painted yourself, that much is clear. Sif can tell if a painting is yours from nothing more than an individual brushstroke, but in this portrait, it is glaringly obvious.

It’s a painting of her.

She’s drawn towards it, lifting her hand and hovering her fingers over the canvas.

You’ve painted her - but not as the warrior Lady Sif - as Sif, your friend, your confidant, your lover. This painting is an intimate confession. There’s a sense of yearning depicted in the painting Sif’s eyes, and she wonders for a moment if you could somehow sense her emotions all this time, even across the stars.

A gasp from across the room interrupts her thoughts.

She turns, and there you are, standing in the doorway.

“Sorry,” Sif says on instinct, eyeing you warily. The painting should spark hope that you haven’t forgotten her, but her stubborn head won’t accept it. She clears her throat. “The door was... unlocked.”

You blink. “Yeah, I was only going out for a few minutes, so...”

“I didn’t mean - ”

“I know.”

Stars. Sif shuts her mouth before she can make the situation any worse.

You step inside and shut the door.

She watches with a heavy heart as you approach, your gaze briefly flickering to the painting behind her. It’s been over a year since she left, and the situation feels delicate, a tension hanging in the air between you.

She tells herself she cannot blame you for moving on, if you have. But that doesn’t stop her fearing it. If you tell her that you have, she doesn’t know how she will recover. The look in your eyes is unreadable.

You hesitate before her for a moment. A wobble in your bottom lip draws her attention, and then, you’re throwing your arms around her. “Oh, Sif.” you sob into the crook of her neck. “You’re here!”

It takes her a moment to respond, but she quickly finds her strength again in your arms. “I am here,” she breathes. A huge weight is lifting off her shoulders, a happiness she thought impossible to feel again spreading through her body from your touch.

You pull back and start planting kisses all over her face, wetting her face with your tears. “I missed you so much baby.”

The tears finally fall, something she never allowed herself to do on the battlefield, but here, in your arms, the dam breaks. She holds onto your arms as you cup her face, laughing and crying together.

“I like the painting.”

“Really?” You pull her in close again, hiding your face. “I’m glad.”

Stars, you’re so cute when you get flustered. She’d forgotten.

She pulls you away from your hug to kiss you again.

The two of you sink to the floor on your knees together, kissing and touching one another, unable to convince yourselves that this is really happening. The kisses turn passionate, your grip on each other desperate, until Sif pushes you down onto the floor with a heated look in her eyes. “I thought about you every. single. night.”

You nod up at her. “So did I.”

She smirks, and in one strong pull, relieves you of you clothes, tearing them off. Leaning over you, her grip on the nape of your neck, she bruises your lips with a kiss.

It leaves you breathless as she pulls away.

“I’m never letting you go again.”

[syiano]

Avengers men with actor s/o (who is like the foreign sexual switch and domestic dom ask I sent you one time) who just loves talking about how perfect they are for him and how beautiful they are and how much love he will show them when he gets home through his foreign cooking

(And would it be bad if you added an 18+ peter Parker?)

AYE WHATS UP AGAIN BROOO AND OMG THIS IS TOO CUTEE 🥺🥺

And Peter Parker is 18+ in all my works of him.

{Requested}

Avengers x Male!Reader

Marvel Preferences: They React To You Being An Actor

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

Steve loves watching movies, so there's no doubt he will love your acting career. He loves your acting and the characters you play as (but if you're playing as a villian he's gonna be like, *raises eyebrow*).

He says he has flaws he needs to work on when you tell him he's perfect, but also says he's glad that he has someone who will accept him regardless of his flaws rather than what everyone sees him to be. He does get caught off when you call him beautiful, and he can only manage a smile because he doesn't know what to say.

He does end up also being speechless when you would mention your cooking because he does love them, adding on to his wish of having a simple and domestic life.

Bucky isn't really someone who wants to be the certain of attention and wants your  relationship with him to be more private. Other than that, he loves getting more comfortable with the more domestic life with you as soon as you get home; he loves cuddling with you and watching movies and feels at ease for once.

When you tell him just how perfect he is for you and how you can't wait to shower him with affection, he practically tears up and is almost in disbelief that he was lucky to have someone like you. Bucky melts into you when you hug him, and he's clinging to you, desperately not wanting to let you go.

He definitely looks forward to your cooking, and shyly comments on how he might enjoy every last of your foreign dishes and is touched at how you take the time to do this for him.

Tony? PFFT. He's all about showing you off as both of you are famous. He comes up with a bunch of nicknames for each character you play (and might roast them). He definitely promotes merch from the movies or shows you star in. When you keep talking about how perfect he is for you, he does get a little speechless for a moment and then stutters trying to make a joke about how you should make a romance movie about it.

When you would bring up your cooking, he jokes ('cause he's Tony) and he's like, "what, you gonna add a love potion in it or something?"

Sam jokes about your talent having a good use for the team, but he overall does love your career. Natasha comments that he uses it weapon because yes, he will threaten Bucky with spoiler alert if he makes him mad. Sam is also like, "is there any characters that can fly, or...?

When you would say how perfect he is for you, he jokes about what brought this on and how you can't stop talking about him. But he does seriously appreciate it and smiles, and tells you how lucky he is to have someone like you.

He does comment on how much he loves your cooking and looks foward to it, and does offer to cook with you.

Peter likes watching your shows or movies  at night time while cuddles with you. He especially loves anything with action (God help him if he watches horror).

He blushes and stutters what you tell him how perfect he is for you and how beautiful he is, and the only thing he can come up with is, "uh...t-thank you..um..you too...?"

Peter is flattered when you tell him how much you're going to cook for him and he shyly requests, "um...can you cook that...one dish again? I really liked that one...It's one of my favorites, actually..."

Scott literally spends hours binge watching every movie or show you star in and if you mind it, it can be annoying because he's always making commentary during movies and he's like, "oh my god, did you see that?!"

He also claims he's your biggest fan (and will fight anyone who disagrees) and buys all your merch only to forget your character's famous quotes...

When you tell him how perfect he is for you, he ends up zoning out while you're talking and he's just tearing up and he cuts you off by tackling you with hugs (and then hurts himself).

His mouth is just watering when you would talk about how much you're going to cook for him and he also just zones out thinking about your cooking until you snap him out it.

Bruce does shyly admit he watches your shows and movies in private and is amazed at your acting. He does get teased by the team on how he's finally focused on something that's not anything science or lab related. BUT, he's definitely going to debunk lots of things and gets a little exicted if you're starring in anything sci-fi...

He doesn't know rather to be confused or happy when you tell him how perfect he is for you, because he's more used to people being scared of him, and someone calling him beautiful catches him off guard. But he does give you a soft smile and has nothing else to say but thank you for everything.

He says he can't wait when you would bring up how much you're going to cook for him, and he does remind you not to push yourself to hard ('cause he's a worried Bruce).

Loki is pretty protective when it comes to you being famous anyway, but doesn't really interfere with your acting career.  He's not really a big fan of movies or shows in general, but the only reason why he's watching them all of a sudden is because you're in them. Loki actually more focused on looking at your character ('cause it's you), but he still pays attention to the plot, though.

When you tell him how perfect he is for you and how beautiful he is, he's speechless and looks at you with emotional eyes. For once, he looks at you with the most soft and affectionate eyes, which a sight no one else will see but you.

He's not used to people doing things for him, so when you would bring up how much you're going to cook for him, he doesn't really know what to say, but he still stares at you with adoring eyes, and does try to hide the fact he's tearing up.

Thor totally thinks your career is just amazing. But you may have to explain to him that everything that's happening isn't real because he would take it too seriously (especially if your character gets hurt).

When you tell him how perfect he is for you and how beautiful he is, he feels flattered and comments on how he doesn't deserve such praise, but thinks you do instead. But you do notice that he's really touched about it and stares at you with just, *heart eyes*.

He also loves how you would cook and spoil him, and wants to cook with you so he can learn your foreign dishes to impress you.

Pietro can't sit in one place for too long, but he does have time to watch some of the shows or movies you star in. He always talks about how your character is the coolest out of the whole cast, though. Pietro does get jealous when you have all the attention, so he's definitely going to be craving all the affection you give him.

He wants to be praised and loved, especially because of his past, and when he's told that he's just perfect for you, that's all he wanted to hear before kissing you and realizing how he has what he wants.

He totally looks foward to your cooking and wants to cook with you along with showing you some Sokovian dishes.

[mggpleasedontlookhere]

no matter what it takes

summary: y/n is kidnapped, and for once reid can’t think of a solution

inspired by this request: Hiiiii! I absolutely love your writing it’s so amazing! I was wondering could there be a storyline where your all working a case (the reader is dating Spencer) and have a lead and you go to the suspect’s house and while there you get kidnapped when back at the BAU the team is trying to work out how to get you back and they get a ransom vid of you getting beaten (dark I know) so they all have to work faster and they find you but while you're taken can we see it from like Spencer’s POV and his thought process on your being gone. Anyways they find you and you’re like drugged majorly injured you wake up in hospital Spencer’s there and it’s fluffy at the end.I know that’s rough but I really love your writing and hope this is ok x

word count: 2,331                                                                                               reading time aprox: 8 mins

a/n: to whoever requested it, i kinda didn’t follow your format or ending. i’m really sorry to disappoint you, but i was writing the plot one way, then suddenly it took a turn. i hope you still enjoy it!

masterlist

Spencer’s POV

My eyes scanned the words in front of me, Charles Dickens displayed in between my hands. I hoped my thoughts would wander more as I explored the novel, taking my mind off of the case I worked previously.

Out of the blue, two soft hands appeared on my knotted hair, massaging the scalp tenderly. “Are you settling okay, my love? How was the case?”

I exhaled deeply, setting the book down beside me as I guided my best girl to my lap. I cushioned her to my side, nuzzling my nose into her shoulder.

“That bad, huh?” Y/N sympathized, trailing her fingers at the cut of my chin. I nodded into her, taking in her calming scent. She smelled of fresh daisies in the summer and the first layer of snow in the winter.

I lifted my head from hers, bringing my arm around her shoulders to pull her closer to me. I sighed in relief as a wave of calm brushed over me. “We were too late...we couldn’t get to one of the last hostages before the unsub.” I shook my head, taking her hand in mine. I examined the daintiness of her fingers, chuckling softly as I placed kisses upon each of them.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she whispered, nuzzling into me as we enjoyed each other’s presence. “Did you catch the unsub?”

“No...he got away last minute,” I sighed, running my hand over my face. “This unsub likes to make things personal. He only killed the last victim to mess with us.”

Silence infiltrated the conversation before it dived into the dark details of the case. The combined sounds of our breathing created a tranquil environment, lulling us to sleep with every second passed.

“I promise you Y/N...”

-

The shade of grey that covered the walls of the BAU prevented agents’ minds from meandering from their tasks. This proved quite effective in intended circumstances, although the caveat was the consequence of a disconcerted mind.

The film cast over my eyes exacerbated the existing burn from staring into space for too long. Although the sensation was unmatched for the void that consumed me from the inside. My limp fingers twitched beside me in a rhythmic pace, reminding me that this was real. My feet felt heavy against the granite tiles of the office, barely able to hold up the rest of my stature. I felt my muscles sag underneath my weight as the feeling of emptiness flooded from my torso to the knuckles of my hands.

“You be careful, Y/N!” I teased, watching as my lover’s silhouette disappeared into the elevator.

“Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone!”

I shook my head, amused at the incessant Marvel-themed references that had been thrown my way since our last movie night. “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”

I hissed as I felt my nails dig into my palms. I hadn’t realized how hard I’d been clenching my fists until I looked down to see blood trailing around my nail bed. Shaking my head, I cleaned off the evidence against my slacks, watching it seep through the material.

“Guys?”

My head shot up to find Penelope typing away at her computer. Her brows were crossed with worry and her eyes would flicker frantically between her four monitors. The rest of the team seemed to follow me to her station, gazing with anticipation at what she discovered.

“What do you have Garcia?”

“I-um. I’m picking up a satellite feed somewhere in Danbury, Connecticut,” she spilled out, her fingers shaking over her keys. “Ther-there’s a livestream that just went active two minutes ago, an-and it’s...there’s-oh my god.” Penelope pushed herself away from her screens, tearing her eyes away as her face grew hot.

“Reid. Out.” Hotch demanded, not taking his eyes off the feed in front of him. JJ moved beside him, further blocking my view of the monitor. Her face contorted in shock and disgust, similar to the expression Garcia beheld moments ago.

“What...why?” I questioned, taking steps forward to investigate, but was ultimately stopped by Morgan. A coil wrapped around my insides, getting tighter with every breath that I took. The sides of my forehead began to warm up with a disorienting blaze, traveling down my eyelids. The fire followed down to the pit of my stomach, sending an uneasy chill down my spine.

“Kid…” he whispered, shaking his head in caution.

“What…” I breathed, feeling my cheeks swell up. Morgan couldn’t meet my eyes--none of them could. “God, it’s my girlfriend. I deserve to know where the hell she is,” I huffed, pushing past Morgan. Although the words were launched back into my esophagus, turning into bile that burned away at my pride.

A high-pitched ringing echoed and bounced around my head. My ears thumped with a resonating drum, overwhelming my senses. Every sharp intake of air felt like ice shooting up my nostrils, and every exhale felt like fire to my lungs.

Y/N was hunched over in a chair with braces around her wrists and ankles. Her beautiful hair was matted with dirt and blood, sticking to the sides of her face. Her skin was painted with a mixture of sweat and grime, hiding the usual radiant glow of her skin. Fortunately, the blurry pixels of the video saved me from witnessing the large gashes that ran along her flesh.

A man stood next to her with a Cheshire grin, his pervasive eyes scanning every inch of his work before breaking the fourth wall. He stared at the camera with a joyful gleam, tilting his head as he inspected the lenses.

“Spencer.” I imagined her call out. A phantom chant met my ears, remembering the softness in her voice and the soothing gravity she carried within her words.

“Spencer, stop it!” Y/N giggled, burying herself deeper into our duvet.

“Why baby?” I murmured into the crease of her neck. “We should just stay like this all day. Maybe if we stay long enough we can morph into a chrysalis.”

“Spencer,” she giggled. “Spence…”

“Spence?” JJ empathized, searching my eyes. She placed a hand on the outside of my arm, lingering there for a comforting moment. Although when she realized her attempts were futile, she retracted her arm with a tight frown on her lips. “I know that-”

“The feed is displaying audio now,” Garcia announced with a wavering tone. I slid past JJ, standing my ground next to Hotch as we listened to the livestream. Whimpers echoed throughout the concrete compound she was trapped in. Her body flinched as the man inched closer to her with an object out of view from the camera. The fear in her eyes left a sharp pang in my chest as a burning resentment ignited my bloodstream.

“Stop…” she whispered, pulling away from the man. “Stop...please,” she sobbed. Her face was contorted in anticipation, glancing down at the item creeping towards her. It was only then a glint of a metal object bounced off of the camera, a foreign substance leaking from its tip.

“Stop! Please!” Y/N’s voice amplified in volume as the inevitable came. “NO!” she screamed, thrashing in her seat as the needle penetrated the soft layer of her skin. “SPENCER! HELP!” she cried out, desperation seeping through her weeps.

A suffocating poison ran its course throughout my body, entrapping me in the limited reality of my abilities. I felt my inner conscious thrash against the walls of my mind, begging for an answer, a solution. I tore my eyes away from the screen, my hand unconsciously clawing at the base of my neck. Staggered breaths blocked my airway, and the room shrank under my feet.

I needed to get out.

I let my feet sweep me away from the office, as far as it takes. My back hit the cold wall of the eerie hallway, feeling the chill penetrate through my blazer. I closed my eyes as I banged on my forehead, hoping that the gears would start working, but nothing seemed to bring me assurance.

Nothing could assure that she’ll be okay. I failed her. I failed to assure her that I was going to keep her safe. I failed at keeping her safe. I failed her.

My heart was pulled against my spine, attached tethers tearing it apart in opposite directions. Contractions of adrenaline seeped into my nervous system as her anguished screams left the room silent behind me. It was like gravity had ceased to exist, leaving me floating in a mind-numbing state of desolation.

I failed her.  

“I’m always going to love you,” I reassured, tucking in a hair behind her ear as she swung her legs back and forth atop of the counter.

“Really Spence?” she giggled, bringing the spoonful of 3:00 am ice cream out of her mouth, dangling the utensil from the bottom of her plump lips.  “Prove it?”

“Darling, isn’t there a tub of ice cream--that I bought--in your hands?” I teased, tapping at my watch. “And last time I checked it’s the middle of the night.”

“Whatever,” she giggled, nudging at my shoulder. My hands traveled to the sides of her hips, pulling myself closer as I inspected the beautiful glow of the moonlight reflecting off of her visage. “I thought you were going to say something cute.”

“That wasn’t cute?”

“Not even close, Spencer Reid,” she mumbled, tapping on the end of my nose before taking my face into the softness in her hands. She playfully scoffed as we inspected each other’s eyes for what seemed like hours. My arms found their way around her waist, melting into her, as I lessened the gap between us.

“What is it?” I whispered, my eyes flickering from her eyes to the pigment on her lips. Closing in proximity, I nudged her into me. But before our lips could meet, a chuckle filled the air and a hand was placed above my chest.

“I...am out of ice cream.” With that, she scurried away to the fridge with a bounce in her step. I shook my head in amusement, whispering to myself.

“That girl’s damn lucky that I love her.”

Frenzied feet inside the office took me out of my daze, but it was the sound of soft steps approaching me that made my shoulders stiffen in anticipation. I collected my composure the best as I can, maintaining a brave face for whoever would walk into the doorframe.

I didn’t even bother to look up to see who it was. The figure’s footsteps halted beside the door frame, leather shoes in my peripheral. Without a moment of quiet, the figure stooped down with its back pressed lightly against the wall. Although despite the thick tension, the figure remained silent.

“You know I don’t always need company…” I murmured defensively.

“I know kid...I know,” Morgan huffed, bringing his hands to his head. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have any.” He knocked his knee into mine, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “She’s going to be okay Spencer.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that she’s strong,” Morgan countered. “You just gotta believe in tha-”

“Don’t- Don’t give me hope like I’m one of the victims we interview. I’m- I’m not a victim.” I nudged his large hand off of me, feeling confined in the big desolate hallway.

“I wasn’t saying you were-”

“But you implied it!” I combed through my hair, my lungs still sore from staggered breaths. “I’m...I’m sorry,” I sighed.

“I said I’m sorry!” I yelled, feeling my throat dry up from the venom dripping from my words.

“This is the third time, Spence. The THIRD time you came home late,” Y/N seethed.

“Who are you? My mother?”

“All I want is to know that you’re safe, Spencer! God! I wait here all day for you, knowing that you’re out there on the field, and something could happen. How does that make me feel?”

“This is ridiculous,” I shook my head, dismissing her ignorance. I headed towards my jacket that I strung up on the coat hanger a few minutes ago, not bothering to take my keys with me.

“Where...where are you going?” Y/N whispered.

I made the mistake of looking back and seeing the hurt present on her face. The apples of her cheeks were stained with tears, and her eyes were glistening with fresh ones. Her lips were parted ever so slightly, still looking plump and soft even in her distressed state.

“To work,” I monotonously replied, turning away from her. I shuffled out of the apartment with anger dominating every part of me, blinding me to the point where I guess I forgot to lock the door.

“I did this.”

Morgan’s head shot up at the utterance of my words. “What do you mean, kid?”

“I left her by herself...alone,” I scoffed. “We were fighting, and I just left her there. God, I didn’t even lock the door.” I rammed the back of my head against the plaster wall, squeezing my eyes tightly. “How can I be so stupid? Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Hey, stop that!” Morgan intervened, pulling my shoulders off of the wall. “You didn’t know that this was going to happen…”

“Yes, but I should’ve known, Morgan! Don’t you get it!”

“Spenc-”

“I had one job…” I sighed, the inner walls of my chest collapsing into themselves. “God I...I should’ve known.”

My head fell back into the curves of my palms, my tears shamelessly peeking out of the corners of my eyes. My chest heaved reluctantly, as my heart lurched forward. Heat crawled up my cheeks, combining with the coldness of the tears running down my face.

Morgan’s supporting hand felt like a phantom’s upon the skin of my back, knowing that nothing compared to the innocent touch of my Y/N.

-

“What is it, Spence?”

“I promise you that....that I’m always going to keep you safe, no matter what it takes.”

-

taglist: @rexorangecouny​ @howdycharlie @honeymilk-4​ @linthebinbag​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @ssareidbby​ @kyleetheeditor​ @tclaerh​ @jimilogy​ @lulwaxim @jhillio​ @m3ssytrash​ @haylaansmi​ @meowiemari​ @ashwarren32​ @spencerwaltergubler​

[morizoras-cave]

Marvel Cast Masterlist

** = Trigger Warnings

X Teen!Co-Star!Readers

Praise Unheard Of - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: You cry when you hear just how much Jake appreciates you and admires you.

Purple Patches** - Benedict Cumberbatch! f!teen!reader, Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Benedict and Tom realize that your home life is not so great, to say the least.

You Need Rest** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom finds you, broken down from all the stress of school and work.

Knowing Yourself** - Sebastian Stan x f!teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x f!teen!reader: Sebastian and Anthony as well as your other cast members joke about your sexuality, but you don’t find it as funny.

Expectations** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom overhears you in a heated discussion with your parents, fighting their unreasonable expectations of you.

Uncomfortable** - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: You open up to Jake about how your boyfriend forced you to do something you’re uncomfortable with, and Jake is not happy about it.

Unreal** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: You experience an episode of dissociation and Tom helps you down again.

Sexualization** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: An interviewer asks you inappropriate questions and Tom is not having it.

Big Smile** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom sees you cry for the first time, when you struggle to deal with the stress of school.

Too Loud - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!teen!reader: Jake discovers that you are not all shy, but actually loud and outgoing.

Swell** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader:  Tom finds out that you self harm and he does his best to help.

Bullies** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Tom finds out about your bullies.

Brother From Another Mother - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: You and Tom just have fun.

Action - James McAvoy x f!teen!reader: You get hurt whilst doing an action scene and try to hide it in shame, but James sees right through you.  

Premiere Nerves** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom calms you down from a panic attack during the premiere. 

The Legend Of Bepis - James Mcavoy x f!teen!reader: You and James terrify everyone with your horrific inside jokes..

Fat** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: Tom discovers your eating disorder. 

Red Lines** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x teen!reader: Tom and Ben discover your self harming habit. 

Obsessive** - Tom Holland x f!teen!reader: At a meet n’ greet a fan creeps you the hell out. Tom doesn’t like that.

Reflection** - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: Tom finds out that you are terribly insecure about your body and does his best to comfort you.

Trespasser** - Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: At a premiere a fan trespasses and inappropriately touches you. Tom and Jake are majorly pissed off. 

Sleepyhead** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!teen!reader: You’re always asleep around set and the cast wonders why. 

Persistent** - MCU cast x f!teen!reader: With some of the marvel cast out at the mall, a boy won’t stop hitting on you, even when you politely decline. 

Take Care** - Chris Evans x gn!teen!reader: After a solid week of overworking yourself, forgetting to eat, and having no chance to sleep, you faint, and Chris is not happy about it.

Weird** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader: When you get bullied at school for your rather unconventional personality, you clam up, fearing that you are annoying. 

Just a Cold - Tom Hiddleston x gn!teen!reader: It’s just a cold. Nothing too bad. That’s what you say, but then you faint on set, and Tom is not very happy about it.

Alley** - James Mcavoy x gn!teen!reader: James saves you from a creep in an alleyway. 

Noise** - MCU cast x gn!teen!reader: you’re overwhelmed by all the noise, and your castmates help you calm down.

Memories Last Forever - MCU cast x f!teen!reader: In an interview your costars gush over your talent and awesomeness, and reflect on all the good memories from set.

Sleepover - Sebastian Stan x f!teen!reader, MCU cast x f!teen!reader: You and the MCU cast have a secret sleepover. Things go off the rails.

Don’t Apologize** - Sebastian Stan x gn!teen!reader, Anthony Mackie x gn!teen!reader: An interviewer makes you feel really uncomfortable, so Sebastian and Anthony get angry. 

Pick Me Up** - Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader, Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Your bullies beat you up, so you ask Tom and Jake to pick you up.

Over The Line** - Tom Hiddleston x gn!teen!reader: Tom finds out your manager abuses you, and gets pissed as all hell.

Delicate - Marvel Cast x gn!teen!reader: You’re an ex-stunt double, but the cast don’t know that, and are immensely scared that you will hurt yourself doing a risky stunt. You impress them.

Pass Out - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader, Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader: You’re sick and insist that you’re fine, but you end up passing out in front of fans. 

Paper Bag** - MCU Cast x gn!teen!reader: You get pimples and struggle so much with your insecurity, that you end up putting a paper bag over your head to conceal your face. 

Robbed** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader, Tom Holland x gn!teen!reader: You get mugged and Jake and Tom help you feel like yourself again.

Treatment** - Sebastian Stan x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Anthony Mackie x gn!teen!co-star!reader: Your costars find out the terrible treatment you get at your foreign acting agency. 

Headcanons

Mentor - Tom Hiddleston x f!teen!reader: In which Tom is your mentor, and a description of what your friendship is like.

Soul Sister - Elizabeth Olsen x f!teen!reader: You’re a very closed off person, but Elizabeth just knows the way to your heart.

The Runt - Marvel cast x f!teen!reader: You’re the new youngest person in the MCU cast, and this is how several different people would react to and treat you. 

Substitute Dad** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Jake discovers that you’ve never had a father figure and subconsciously takes that role into his own hands.

Young** - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!teen!reader: Jake is overprotective of you because you’re very naive. 

Father Figure** - Tom Hiddlestonx gn!teen!reader: Tom is like your father figure. That’s exactly why you feel so sad, when you find out he’s gonna have a baby of his own.

X Teen!Family!Readers

The Story Of Many** - Chris Evans x teen!little sister!reader: Your role is taking an emotional toll on you, and Chris discovers that you have secretly been taking pills to cope with your mental health.

Road Trip - Sebastian Stan x teen!daughter!reader: Sebastian has planned a road trip for the two of you, but you’ve gotten a sick, and you hide it in fear of ruining the trip.

Misunderstanding - Chris Evans x teen!daughter!reader, Jaeden Martell x f!reader: You and Jaeden sneak out of a premiere to joke around and take pictures, but Chris thinks you’re doing something entirely different..

Drink** - Ryan Reynolds x teen!daughter!reader: Your drink is roofied at a party and Ryan comes to pick you up.

Break Up - Holland Brothers x gn!teen!sibling!reader: You experience your first break up, and the brothers are there to comfort you. 

Headcanons

Award Winning - Chris Evans x teen!daughter!reader: Chris’ reaction to you winning an award for Rising Star. 

Romantic X Readers

Jealous - Jake Gyllenhaal x f!reader: At an award show a celebrity tries to chat you up and Jake is NOT having it. 

X Child!Readers

Kid Problems** - MCU cast x f!reader, Mark Ruffalo x f!reader, Scarlett Johansson x f!reader: The MCU cast discover that your mom and their coworker is an abusive asshat.

Be My Date - Jake Gyllenhaal x gn!reader: Jake finds out your parents can’t go to the premiere and joins you instead. 

Bubble Laugh - Sebastian Stan x gn!reader: You’re shy, but you accidentally reveal your pure, loud, uncontainable laughter, and the cast loves it. 

Headcanons

Little Coworker - MCU cast x gn!reader: You’ve worked with a couple of marvel actors before, and they’re glad to show off your amazing acting skills to the rest of the cast.

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(The Hobbit) Thorin x Reader: Dragonsickness and the Heart

(Author’s Note:  Well, it’s spring, and usually spring gets me in a hobbit/LotR mood, so here we are.  I actually wrote a shameless OC self-insert a few years ago, and decided to just take a section of it an make it a reader-insert.  

Warnings: Thorin acts like a lil creep, but in the end he wouldn’t do anything to hurt reader.  

While under the effects of the dragon sickness, Thorin says some things... You wonder if it’s the sickness talking, or perhaps it is his true feelings coming out.

Enjoy!)

   You struggled with the dwarvish armor, finally letting it fall to the ground. It was much too big and clunky: you could barely stand in it! Thorin had given the order for the Company to armor up, but it didn’t look like it would be possible for you. The clank of metal sounded in the armory around the corner, and you let out an exasperated sigh. You had taken your chosen armor to an empty room to avoid the humiliation as you attempted to try the foreign material on. Even after you managed to finally figure it out, the weight of the metal was too much. You weren’t exactly in the mood for endless teasing on Fili and Kili’s part. Dwalin might even find it humorous and would never let you live it down.

   Footsteps sounded around the corner, and you whirled around to come up with an excuse or explanation of some sort as to why you were hiding away like this. To your surprise, it was Thorin, all armored-up and looking…well…looking pretty good.

   Even with everything that had happened, after how crappy of a person he had become since the dragon sickness took its hold, you were surprised to feel your heartbeat pick up at the sight of him. He entered the dimly-lit room, eyes flickering from you to the bulky armor lying on the floor. He flashed an amused smile that made you feel weak.

   “Trouble?” he asked, pacing over with a raised brow.

   “Uh, y-yes,” you mumbled back, unable to meet his intense gaze. You tried to remind yourself that this wasn’t him. He wasn’t himself, yet it didn’t stop your heart from doing flips in your ribcage. “It obviously wasn’t going to fit. I don’t know why I tried anyways.

   “Because you’re you,” he responded with a chuckle, prompting a nervous laugh from you. He was being friendly, but there was still something off about him. His voice. He spoke in such a low and silky tone, practically laced with dragon sickness. It made you feel uneasy and not necessarily in a good way.

    As Thorin took a step forward, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and flinched out of instinct from being on the road. He noticed and paused, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. He only meant to give you something, he said. When you nodded, he rounded the corner until he was out of sight.  Moments later, he returned with a bundle of armor in his hands though these were different from the weighty pieces you had already tried. He handed you the iron shoulder plates first, and you marveled at the simple designs cast into them.  They looked as if they’d been made just for you.  Judging by the warmth in Thorin’s eyes, they had been.

   “These should suit you better.”

   You tentatively accepted the shoulder plates, fiddling with the leather straps that would hold them in place. You tried putting your arm through one loop as if it was a sleeve, but it felt wrong, so you tried a different angle, a different loop…

   As if reading your mind, Thorin took and unbuckled it. “Here.” 

   You gulped as he carefully took your arm and put it through the correct loop. Each movement he made was slow and drawn out, and you wondered for a minute if he was doing it on purpose just to make your heart race. It wasn’t doing anything to help the situations of your one-sided love towards him. You resolved to accept the rest of the armor politely and go find another hidden room to figure it out on your own, but as soon as the shoulder plates were secure, Thorin proceeded to strap on a chestplate.  Then he continued with a sort of metal shin guard.

   “There,” he said finally, checking some of the straps to ensure they were in place. “You will be much better protected.”

   “Yeah,” you murmured, releasing a breath.  “Thank you.”

   He gazed at you, placing a hand on each of your shoulders. “I will do all in my power to make sure you are safe.” Your eyes widened as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “You should know I have grown rather fond of you, _________.”

   You remained still, absolutely shocked at the unexpected statement. It felt as if your body wouldn’t respond.  Surely, he doesn’t actually mean what he says? It must have been some strange effect of the dragon sickness, right?  

   You had joined the Company early in the journey in hopes of changing the ending.  You and Gandalf had an understanding that you would gain the Company’s trust and use your knowledge of Middle-Earth to ensure the line of Durin survived.  From the moment you appeared on the dirt path in front of the Company in your modern clothes feeling lost and uncertain, Thorin hadn’t taken much interest other than to bark orders to you or spare a disdained glance at you and Bilbo at your “softness” when it came to life on the road. 

   Over time, you learned to place your trust in the Company and to do your part so they’d trust you- including Thorin.  He and you had started to bond, especially in Lake-Town when you’d spoken to each other outside in the snow during the celebration of the dwarves’ return to the mountain.  You even managed to make him smile a few times.  You realized that as Thorin had begun to trust you, you trusted him not only as a leader but as a friend, and your affection grew beyond what you’d originally thought.

   Still, you wondered if perhaps it was all in your head.  Thorin had seen you as young and naive early on, but that was only because of your inexperience in the world of Middle-Earth.  Things had changed.  Perhaps they had changed more than you thought?

   Thorin’s breath disappeared from your ear as he pulled away to circle aroundyou, the armor clanking with every step. You were frozen to the spot, but your lips managed to form words.

   “What about Balin? You told him that you felt nothing for me and that you were focused on the quest.”

   An eerie chuckle echoed from behind. “I told Balin what he wanted to hear. I told him that so he would not question me any further on the matter, but the truth remains…” His voice sounded right behind you. “I care about you.”

   He was saying what you wanted to hear all along, and yet it felt so wrong now. This wasn’t the real Thorin, right? You could not possibly accept this declaration of feelings knowing that he would snap out of it soon enough.

   “W-we should go join the others…”

   His arm snaked around your waist, earning a gasp from you. “I love you, ________, and I want you to say you feel the same.”

   “Thorin, I can’t. You’re not yourself. The stress of the Arkenstone and the battle must be affecting you.”

   “My own kin has betrayed me. One of them has taken the Arkenstone. Please, do not  turn away from me as well. Say you love me. Be my queen.”

   You were left breathless by his words. He had released you from his hold and circled back around to stand in front of you. Thorin leaned in, eyes flickering to your lips briefly. It was beyond tempting. All you had to do was lean in a few mere inches, and you would feel his lips on yours. It was what he wanted, and it was what you wanted…

   “I have to go,” you stated, putting some distance between the two of you. Thorin’s lips pulled down in a frown as you stepped around him.

   “You’re making a mistake,” he called over his shoulder.  “An offer such as this will not come again.”

   You hesitated at the doorway, shaking your head. “Then so be it.” And then you left. You didn’t dare look back as you hurried down the halls to get as far away from him as possible. He was crazy. Insane.

   And so are you for turning him down, a small voice screamed from within your mind. You could have been his, even for a short time. You could have had his love, even if it was twisted.  His kiss. His embrace… It could all have been yours if you had just said so.

   But it was wrong, and you knew it, to take advantage of his situation.

   “Bilbo!” You halted when you rounded a corner and almost collided with him. “Where are you off to?”

   He glanced around to make sure no one was near, holding a long rope coiled up in his hand. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing. I am taking the Arkenstone to Bard to use for bargaining. It’s the only way the people of Lake-Town will get their fair share.  Hopefully, we will avoid war.”

   “That’s a great idea. I’ll cover for you while you’re gone.”

   “Thank you, ________,” he whispered gratefully. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

   You pulled him into a quick hug. “Be careful. I’ll see you later!” You parted ways with the hobbit once more, him heading for the front gate while you lingered in the corridor. You felt so alone, standing there. None of the dwarves could understand the situation.

   It wasn’t the time to tell Bilbo what had occurred with Thorin.   It would be yet another dark secret to weigh on you for now, along with the possible fate of the journey.

   That night, the dwarves talked and laughed by the fire as usual. Even though they had all of Erebor to go off and choose a room from, the Company still liked to gather together to share a meal and camp out just like old times. Fortunately, Thorin never participated, spending his days and nights in the throne room. You joined the group, glad to have something take your mind off of the recent events. Bofur led the group in a few songs, Fili and Kili told jokes, Nori and Dori bickered and teased each other, Ori laughed along with Bombur, Bifur, Oin, and Gloin.

   Balin and Dwalin were in a more solemn mood, but couldn’t help cracking a smile every now and then. At some point, the dwarves started sharing stories of hilarious hardship over the course of the quest.

   “But don’t you remember the time in the beginning of the journey when we had to cross that river?” Bofur asked with a grin, earning a few bursts of laughter. “Quite a few of us took a plunge that day!”

   “I lost a lot of supplies,” Bombur said with a nod.

   “And what supplies you did have left was soaked!” Bofur laughed, slapping his knee.

   “I do recall the stew being soggier than usual that night,” Gloin joked.

   “Or what about the afternoon when _________ quite literally got sick of traveling?” A teasing grin spread across Kili’s face. “She jumped off of her pony to go throw up in the bushes.”

   “Hey! I felt terrible that day!” you protested playfully. “Besides, it’s not like I had ever ridden a pony all day every day for weeks before.”

   “The best part was that Thorin scolded her anyway for holding the Company up,” Fili chuckled.

   “Well, I’m pretty sure I remember a time when you and your brother were supposed to be watching the ponies and nearly got us all eaten by trolls when we had to go find them.”

   “Ooh, that’s cold,” Kili feigned offense, unable to hide the amused grin. 

   “You don’t miss a thing, lass,” Bofur teased.

   “Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, still smiling. No one asked about Bilbo, or wondered aloud where he was. The hobbit had been spending more time alone as of late, so it wasn’t unusual for him to not join them for dinner. He would return before dawn, you knew, but as each hour passed that evening, you became a little more anxious.

   You managed to set aside your worries and let sleep overtake you. You fell into a deep sleep, and a certain dwarf king haunted your dreams that night.

[justalittletomato]

Make me Yours(smut  Darth Maul X Reader)

(SMUT 18+ please be responsible with the content you read. )

A/N: I mentioned I had some more of this sort of content coming up, and here we are. Here we have three categories, angst, fluff, smut, and more fluff as well as overuse of the word Goddess. Enjoy and as always be responsible for the content you read.  Read more as always on these 

Summary:  They haven’t done this, oh but how they wish too, its new and frightening and everything he should fear. Her tenderness soothes such worried and her kiss is a promise. 

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (let me know if I need other ones) 

His connections to others had been limited, seeking to bring pain or only receiving it in return. With only a tether to reach for revenge. This was all he had ever known.

Slowly, a new connection had begun to form, unlike the rest it this was foreign from all he had known and frightening. Love was unknown and always silenced. He should be running from this or trying to destroy it.

To admit weakness was to admit defeat, leaving one open to attack, a strike to a heart left vulnerable.  Yet, here he was in this darkened room with his Starlight. Both beings bare to the other with only candlelight to guide them.

In his memory fire was never gentle it claimed and ate away, but here the candles flickered casting a soft glow to the bedroom. He had never known fire to be almost tame until now.

His Starlight straddled his hips, she wasn’t frightened despite having her bare flesh atop of cold metal. As always she waited and sought to ensure that he was alright. Her fingertips tracing the tattoos around his eyes, there was nothing but love in her gaze. Never had another being referred to him with such tenderness, her hands now holding his face, she asked again if he wanted this.

Never had he been given a choice. His hands moved from the silky sheets to touch her, marveling at the soft flesh of her thighs under his hands, her small gasp was encouraging. She never feared his touch. His hands moved from her thighs to her hips, entranced on how someone so beautiful could be in his grasp. She was ever the responsive type, a breathy sigh heard as those hands went up over her sides and higher brushing over her breasts. She arched back slightly letting him marvel and touch where he pleased, her pretty moans indicative of her enjoyment.

Normally, he was rough in these circumstances, thier time behind the library shelves evident of that. Both of them often having to tug up collars and pulling clothes back in place to hide the marks they left on another.  Those instances were always heated, nothing like this.

She adjusted herself slightly in his lap, the motion causing his cock to brush against her, he couldn't help but moan at the friction. His Starlight moved once more, again another moan threatened to break through but Maul put a hand over his mouth to trap it. She moved his hand away, “ Don’t hold back, Maul. I want to hear every lovey sound you make.”

Long ago he learned not to cry out, not to show any outward display of emotion that did not encompass anger. Now in her arms such actions were sought, they were encouraged. He was able to cry out, moan, shout, and scream; it was an offer he couldn't refuse.  Golden eyes were illuminated  in the darkened room lit only by candles, “As loud as I want?” he needed her confirmation, his Starlight nodded, “And as much as you want.”

Her hands explored his bare form as he did with her, running from his shoulder, down his muscled chest and stomach, to the v shape of his hips, reveling at the groans he gave as she teased lower. they Traveled back up to rest over his atop his hearts, their beats thrumming under her palms, “ Are you nervous?” she asked this only a short distance from his lips, one small movement and they’d touch.

“It’s many things, I can’t name them all,” he confessed leaning a bit so their lips brushed, it was a ghost of a kiss quickly eclipsed by pleasure when Y/N rocked her hips to get closer, her core again teasing his cock.

He wanted nothing more than to throw her down on the sheets, desire pulsing and raging under his skin and causing him to ache.

Maker, the things he wanted to do, ravage her and make her his completely. To curb  these temptations his hands moved to touch and grip at her chest; in his haste his nails pressed a bit too deeply. Y/N yelped at the sudden prick of pain.  Maul immediately released her, arms pulled away and hands balled into fists.

He could feel his nails press into his palms, sharp too sharp for soft skin.  He could already see crescent indents forming at her breasts.  He looked away, he had ruined this already. Her hand reached out to stroke his jaw coaxing him to return back to her, “ You got a little carried away ,” her voice calm, “That’s alright. “

Maul  furrowed his brow, “ Please don’t try to make light of this. This is dangerous. I haven’t..” he pauses, “ I haven’t done anything like this for so long.” he didn’t even recall the first time, and now all those years of isolation, denial of any affections and unreleased rage had sparked these desires to hold down and mark, “My kind can get violent in such moments.”  

Rather than push him away like any sensible person should  Y/N leaned in closer, y e/c eyes bright and her cheeks turning shades darker, “OH.”

She was ever so eager to find out, he could hear it in her small sound of surprise, the notion made him shiver, she truly wanted this. She wanted him. He needed to hear her say it, “Yet you still want to do this, with me?”

Y/N shyly smiled, “ Very much” she kissed his cheek to assure him, “Shall I lay back now?”

They weren’t getting out this…

“Yes,” he breathed, Maker, please let me take her.

She did as requested, her hair laid out on black sheets, as the candles flickered and glowed casting light upon her.  Now Maul didn’t believe in deities but in this moment Y/N was truly a Goddess before him. She smiled at him and spread her legs apart, already aroused by his touch from earlier and the promise this would be something to remember, his cock twitched at the sight.  

Maul placed himself between her legs, staring down at her all laid out for him. Yes, a Goddess was a fitting name for her now. He brushed the head of cock against her folds, already moaning as he began to push in slowly. His own sounds of pleasure echoed by Y/N. Despite her moans, she had to hold him back before he moved in too fast, no matter how good and full he was making her feel, “ You have to go slow, my darling.”

Human and Zabraks together were rare, and the size difference was evident when they first ventured into this. His cock was wider and ridged nothing like a human, without proper preparation, Maul frowned at his overreach. Her body was inviting and warm,  

he wanted nothing more than to just loose himself. But that would hurt his Goddess, he wanted none of that.

Y/N could see his hesitation, “ Just go slow at first, I’ll tell you right away, for now just start slowly,” Maul placed one hand by her head the other helping to guide himself further inside her. He seemed to calculated for such as task, his brow ridge furrowed and his usual scowl deepening. She couldn’t have him like that,  “ Kiss me as you do it.” his Goddess beckoned, Maul relaxed slightly and did as she asked.

Thier lips gently moved together as Maul pushed in between her folds. Focusing on the kiss and making sure to savor each moan she let out.

Maul was already groaning into their kiss, how could this feel so incredible already? He pulled away to look at her, Y/N’s eyes shut and biting her lip as the first ridge was almost done, “Just bit more.” she moaned.

It was permission to continue, instead of his hand gripping the black sheets he laced his fingers with one of her hands the other gripping the pillows behind her. The first ridge was in, the lovers moaned together. It was only the first and Y/N was in pure bliss while Maul kept trying to resist the urge to just sink inside her all at once. He had to resist.

Maybe this was already too much, without warning the ache he had felt increased and caused him to shout, Y/N mewled as he spilled inside her. He shouldn’t have done that, maker could he not even last?

He tried to pull away only for his Goddess to grab him by his shoulders and tighten her legs around his hips, “Don’t…. Don't go.” her already darkened cheeks deepened more, “It’s fine, please don’t go,”

She still wanted him, Maul leaned back in, and nuzzled agains her neck as she whispered into his ear, “ That just shows me how much love I still need to give you, you’ve been without it. So please let me love you.” he lifted his head to kiss her, “You’re too good to me.”

 He took his place again and pushed in further, this time as the second ridge went in Y/N hitched her breath, there was pain, but it was engulfed by how full she felt, Maker humans were ruined now, and he wasn’t even all the way in yet?

“Can I keep going? “ please say yes, he was struggling to make assurances while nestled inside her, all he wanted was to drive his hips forward and bury himself within her.

“ Yes, oh yes,” her answer breathy, “More,” the hands on his shoulders gripped a bit tighter, “ Give me more”

How could he deny her or himself that?

Her hips wriggled, desperate to feel him and take more within her. Each movement bringing Maul to moan as he fulfilled her request, with a groan the last ridge went in.

“OH. Oh Maul” she could cry, it was almost too much, the tinge of pain was present for now. The Zabrak was groaning, grasping at the sheets stopping himself from just slipping out and slamming into her, “ Can I move?” he begged,  “ Goddess, tell me I can move please?”

Goddess?! Maker, he was everything.  She wanted to say yes, oh how she wanted to say yes, “ Just a moment,” she whispered. He listened, slightly grimacing as he had to hold himself back again his nails almost piercing through the silk sheets, and his breaths grew ragged at his efforts. As Y/N’s pain subsided, pleasure began to eclipse her every nerve. She willed her hands to move down  to his arms and have him lace their fingers together, Maul waited with bated breath to hear her request, “Please move ” she was not one to beg but calling her Goddess would do it, “ Please love me.”

“As my Goddess commands,” instead of keeping thier hands joined Maul took the chance to hold her wrists down against the sheets. Y/N heart raced.

Their hips pressed in tune with another, starting slow, he had to be gentle for now. Her parted lips let out whispered praises at the delightful feeling of Maul’s cock slipping  in and out of her. Her eyes half closed and body ever so responsive to his slightest touch. Now this was an exquisite sight, one that would burn in his memory, as well as the remarkable sensations of her pussy enveloping his cock with each thrust. Slow and paced with groans and moans, it was all wonderful, but it wasn’t enough.

He could have had this earlier on, he let go of her wrists, opting to lay kisses along her throat and collar, while his hands moved to hitch her legs higher on his hips. He reached even deeper inside her, Y/N’s eyes rolled back as he was now brushing over that mark inside her each time, “ I can take it if you go faster,” she needed him to do it, “Oh Maul please.”

His control was falling away, fueled by his Goddess requests.  

Their movements picked up pace, Y/N let out a startled cry at the pressure building inside of her. Leaving her gasping as each thrust found its mark inside her. She wouldn't last like this, each time his cock slammed into her just right.

Her hands moved to clutch at his back, nails dragging down his muscles and leaving faint scratches that had him groaning. “ Your perfect” another thrust, “ Incredible,” she gasped, that pressure now burning her,  “ I’m…” she didn’t get to finish as she screamed her release. Maybe it was her cry that finally broke him, but what happened next was Y/N trying to come down from her high only for Maul to just ram into her without care, he wanted to hear that scream again.

She didn’t try to stop him, she wanted all he could give her.

The gentleness he so tried to carry  was gone overtaken by the need to ravage and devour, he pulled all the way out to look down at Y/N panting, her eyes dazed and body shivering from the loss of his touch, Maker, he was responsible for this. he slammed his cock back inside her, each thrust driven by the satisfaction that those cries were his doing. He was making a mess of her, the sounds  from her lips and body were sinful and echoing through the room. If a passerby would walk past the doors they’d know the screams of a divine Goddess being pleasured and his own growls to keep away, she was his alone.

There was no tempo to his thrusts now, just  desperation to feel and pleasure them both, Y/N struggled to hold onto him, to bring some tempo, but she couldn't stop herself from pushing him on, “ More…more” her hips would be bruised after this, “ Please..please more,” again that pressure in her belly, “ Make me yours!”  Maul took that command into his hearts, placing his hands on either side of the head board and did as his Goddess asked.  

1..2 the bed hit the wall.. 3..Maker..4… she could die right now and thank him. “Mine..” he chanted with each slam of the bed, “ mine…” that burning feeling was encompassing him again, with each movement he was getting closer as he ravaged and fucked her. “ Let go, Maul,” his Goddess managed to breathe out, another loud slam of the bed, another breath, “ You're beautiful like this, let go.”

Maul snapped, screaming as he came. iHe was burning, but it was a fire that he didn’t want to escape from. She screamed as he filled her again, coming undone for the second time that night. The burning receded, and the headboard was relinquished, Y/N was still shaking from what had just happened, Maul moved his hands to either side of her face, “ Are you alright?”

His usually piercing golden eyes had softened to a glow, pretty dazed honey eyes gazing at her y e/c.  How should she answer, “I never want to leave this bed” instead she smiled and pulled him in for a kiss, “ My beautiful, “ another kiss, “incredible,” another kiss, “ divine, love of mine” each little praise and kiss had him moaning again, and more so as her kisses moved from his lips to pepper all over his face.  

His starlit goddess’s praises were answered prayers, each little touch and kiss a sign that she had answered him.  One last kiss on the lips, this one sweet and slow, a sharp contrast to the absolute mess they had made of another.

She groaned as he slipped out of her evidence of what they had done now spilling onto the sheets. Part of him wanted to take her again, but Maul could resist it, his Goddess needed rest. He forced himself out of her embrace and out of the bed, her hand reached out to stop him from leaving, she wanted nothing more than to just slip into sleep with him at her side, “We have to get you cleaned up my Goddess,” with little effort he lifted her from the bed, one arm under her knees and the other at her back. There was that name again, her cheeks burned, “ I’m no Goddess,” she whispered as he carried her to the refresher.

Now he couldn't have her in doubt not after she had so lovingly took him into her bed and granted him such pleasures, “ I beg to differ, such a divine creature is worthy of such a name and gets treated as such,” Y/N didn’t argue with him only blushing more with each compliment, “ May I give you a name as well?” she whispered, “ It won't be as good,” he was slightly surprised but intrigued, “ What name will you bestow on me?”

“ Dawn,” she let a hand cup his cheek, “Its in your eyes, at times a harsh golden light at others more gentle in hue and each time I look forward to seeing it,” she gets one more kiss, “I look forward to hearing it more,”

“ You will, my darling Dawn. I promise you that.”

[anyoneseenadam]

Home: Chapter Six

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing, THIS PART HAS SMUT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED but it is very soft 

word count: 3.2k

dress featured: x

a/n: this part was gonna be super fluffy and lovely but of course i cant do that so it’s quite angsty lol sorry. BUt Percabeth make an appearance and we love them so I think that evens it out :) I also apologise if there are any mistakes I wanted to get this out ASAP because I have exams coming up :( pls comment it genuinely makes my day i get so happy when people comment, anyway enjoy!

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Azriel wasn’t entirely sure he would ever get over ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’, or any other Marvel movies for that matter, having cried when Bucky was revealed, or when Pietro died making you practically piss yourself with laughter as you muttered something along the lines of “Just wait.”

When the sun began to rise you had turned the laptop off, pulling him in tightly as you pulled the thick duvet over you and proceeded to snore softly with your head pressed over his heart and your other hand reaching out and clutching your favourite soft toy. He thinks he maybe got three hours of sleep, but he laid with you the whole morning, addicted to the heat emitting from you and the way the whole room seemed to be resting as you slept, the breeze swaying the curtains matching that of your gentle breaths and the plants drooping as they too relaxed.

When you did wake, Azriel found his way between your legs, determined to wake you up properly. Your soft cries were like music to his ears, and he made you cum three times before you were pushing his shoulders away, shaking from over-stimulation, and climbing on top of him, sinking down slowly, letting yourself feel every inch. As he sat back, his hands resting on your waist to guide you when you became breathless, holding tightly and occasionally thrusting up into you when the pace became to slow for his taste. You reached a hand to his wings as his thumb found your clit, and you kissed sloppily as you searched for release.

Soon, you fell on top of him as he grunted, hips stalling as you whined into his open mouth. He slowly pulled out and wrapped his arms tightly around your middle, the two of you laying silently simply enjoying the others presence. You soon looked up at him and gave him a breathless smile, pecking his jaw, before swinging your legs over the side of the bed and grabbing a robe of the floor. You made your way to the record player and filled the room with the sound of the Bee Gee’s, Azriel closing his eyes and letting the foreign sounds consume him. You sat down at your vanity and started putting on your jewellery, all the movements practiced, and he cracked open an eye watching you string necklaces with crystals hanging from them around your neck. He laughed as you sang along to the song, flirty eyes catching his as you swayed from side to side.

“More than a woman…” you sang softly as you pulled lacy panties up your legs and rubbed fruity lotion into your legs and hands, waving your hands to dry them before pushing of numerous rings. He sat up in bed, watching you intently as you moved to your wardrobe and pulled out a pretty off-the-shoulder, white dress with frills and faint flowers decorating it. You dropped your robe and pulled on the dress, shaking your hair out and turning to walk over to him. The golden light from the window coated you and you look like you belonged in the Day Court as your skin was cast in the glow, it seemed to weave around you alike a halo and he was struck by how angelic you looked.

“I’m gonna go wash my face,” you said, pressing quick kiss to his lips and giggling sweetly when he tried to chase your mouth for more, pulling away and leaving the room, blowing a kiss in his direction.

He stood, a love-drunk smile on his face as he went about finding his boxers from the night before and pulling them on, grimacing at the tight fit, before he wandered to the drawer you had pulled them from, laughing when he found men’s joggers as well and pulling them on. When he turned to find a top he was instead greeted by a middle-aged man in running gear. He reached for truth-teller, moving into a fighting stance, his shadows swarming around him menacingly and silently begged that you would stay in the bathroom to avoid seeing any blood.

“At ease Azriel, I won’t hurt you.” The strange man said, not actually looking at him and instead typing furiously on his phone.

“How did you get in here?” Azriel asked gruffly, assessing the man to see if he had weapons.

The man waved a hand through the air dismissively, “You are not supposed to be here you know.”

“What do you mean?” He was still uncomfortable at the fact the man knew his name, and now he was insinuating that he knew that Azriel wasn’t from this world.

“Stupid Aphrodite and her hopeless ideals messing up the routes so you could meet (y/n). The fates won’t be happy if you don’t return soon, and even worse Persephone will lose it if she thinks her daughter has been dragged into any messy situations like this, so you boy, are going home, come on.” He beckoned to Azriel, but he didn’t budge.

“Who are you?” He demanded as the man rolled his eyes.

“Hermes, messenger God, now come on I don’t have all day.”

“What did you mean by the fates?”

Hermes sighed deeply, muttering something about a pay raise under his breath before he finally looked up at Azriel. “Some soulmates simply just aren’t meant to meet I’m afraid, why do you think we wrote so many tragedies. If a Greek is born lucky enough to have a soulmate they will likely be from another world, and that means they cannot be together. I know you think she is your mate, but she must stay here, she’s not even immortal it would be cruel. I told Aphrodite to not let you two meet and that it would just end in heart-break, but she didn’t listen, felt bad for the girl or something, but either way you need to leave now.”

Azriel opened his mouth to reply but couldn’t find the words, you really were his, his mate, but now he was being told that he couldn’t be with you. He tried to reply again but before he could you were floating back into the room, smiling widely when you saw Hermes.

“Hermes, long time no see. What calls you to my humble abode?” you asked, moving to Azriel’s side and laughing when he still didn’t put down his dagger, “It’s okay Az, Hermes is actually one of the nicer ones.”

Hermes laughed at the compliment, but sadness shone in his eyes as he looked upon you.

“You look happy,” he said, a regretful look suddenly over-coming his features, yet Azriel couldn’t feel any sympathy for the man that was going to hurt his mate.

“I am.” You said, gazing up at Azriel with soft eyes, and Hermes placed his buzzing phone in his back pocket.

“My child, it’s time for Azriel to leave,” he said softly, your head whipping around to look at him.

“What?” The sharpness of your tone surprised Azriel. He had grown used to your soft side that spoke to flowers and baked homemade bread, but now he was remembering the broken part of you that was part God and build walls up in seconds. He placed a hand on your lower back as the room suddenly shuddered under your power, all plants awakening.

“You two were never meant to meet, Aphrodite just wanted you to meet him after your fall, but she forgot that he would have to return, I’m so sorry.” Your eyes filled with tears as you tried to make sense of what was happening, snarling at the God.

“No but this has nothing to do with the Gods, it- he got here on his own, we met by chance,” You were shaking as you tried to explain, sadness and confusion battling anger, and Azriel thought he could hear his heart break.

“I’m sorry child, I have to take him back. He only got here because of Aphrodite.” You were shaking your head, tears flowing freely now, gripping his arm and Hermes approached.

“NO, no there must be another way, please don’t take him from me! I need him, I love him, please don’t do this!” Hermes, shockingly, also appeared to be close to tears as he rested his hand on Azriel’s shoulder, his body going numb as he was pulled from you, unable to fight back.

“(y/n), baby, I’m sorry, I’ll figure this out okay I promise. I’m not leaving you here.” He didn’t think he would ever feel this much pain again as he watched the woman he loved sob, trying desperately to hold onto him as he was pulled from her world, the image of her collapsing to her knees as he was wrenched from her grip becoming imprinted in his mind.

--

He was gone. He was gone and you were alone again.

The scuffed wooden floor below you was cool as you pressed your forehead against it, sobs racking your body. You pushed yourself up and sat against the wall, checking the time on the clock. 15 minutes. You would cry for 15 minutes and then you would get him back. To many times you have just accepted your fate, but you couldn’t this time, you and Azriel met for a reason there had to be something. You wouldn’t let the anger and fear swallow you again.

When 15 minutes had past you forced your self to stand, wiping your eyes with your hand before searching for tissues. When you had blown your nose, you found an old notebook and grabbed your pen. A list, a list would organise your thoughts, you could find a loophole something had to work. You wrote down every theory you had, every book you would have to look in and every person you had to ask, sniffling, and rubbing the tears from your eyes. When you were done you found the backup burner phone you kept for emergencies and found Annabeth’s number. She picked up on the third ring and you took in a shaking breath.

“I think I need your help.”

--

Hermes left Azriel on the outskirts of Velaris, strangely back in his Illyrian leathers, he had apologised again, true sadness shining in his eyes, but Azriel just growled as feeling returned to his limbs. Hermes looked as if he wanted to say something but decided not to and with that left.

As Azriel shot off the ground he was struck with a sharp pain in his chest, as if being apart from her was physically paining him. He flew over his home, the city he had grown to love but even the feeling of coming home couldn’t distract from the cold that was seeping into his bones. He would destroy the Gods themselves before he let them take you from him and he fought a snarl as he pictured the hell he would make them pay for making you cry.

He landed outside the town house but before he could even open the door the wind was knocked out of him as Cassian barrelled into him in what was either a really rough hug or a tackle, it was hard to tell with Cassian sometimes.

“WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN IT’S BEEN WEEKS?!” he winced as Cassian yelled right in his ear, shoving him off him as the rest of his family, minus Amren, surrounded him. Feyre was next to hug him and he returned his High Lady’s embrace, when she pulled away he met Rhysand’s eyes, and he saw the sadness in Azriel’s, shocked as Azriel rarely let any emotion show on his face.

“C’mon lets go inside,” Rhys said, outstretching an arm for his wife. Mor, holding Nyx, followed them in and Cassian who was still glaring at Azriel grabbed his arm and tugged him in, grumbling under his breath about how Azriel hadn’t even sent a letter.

When they were all sat, including Amren who apparently just couldn’t be bothered to come greet him as she knew he was coming her way anyway, Feyre asked him what happened. His eyes instinctively found Elain where she sat huddled in the corner of an armchair, and as he took in her spectacular beauty, all he could think of was how no one compared to you. No one compared to your callused hands that had seen many fights and handled many weapons, or your scarred back that only proved how strong you truly were. No amount of beauty could ever compare to you when you had completely stolen his heart, it didn’t help that you were also the most beautiful woman he had ever met.

He paused, a small part of him wanting to keep you a secret as he feared Cassian’s flirting and the prospect of losing the woman he loved again, but as he looked upon where Cassian sat with nothing but worry for his brother in his eyes, Nesta perched next to him, back straight as usual but a hand in his brother’s, he realised he was being ridiculous. He rubbed his temples and took a deep breath, fiddling with his hands as he told his family everything.

--

Percy had forgotten how much he loved (y/n)’s cottage. It always smelt of cinnamon in winter and roses in summer and it usually had the second-best homemade goods her had ever eaten, their only flaw being the lack of blue food colouring. But he didn’t have time to dwell on how he had missed the house too much as Annabeth pulled him through the door and into (y/n)’s kitchen where she sat staring with the blank look on her face that Percy knew meant something had gone horribly wrong. She looked up when they entered and stood, practically falling into Annabeth’s arms, hugging her tightly before Percy tugged her into his own, a hand resting protectively on her head. She had always been like a little sister to him even though she was only a few months younger than him, and consistently beat him in training exercises. The first few months after they escaped Tartarus, he had brought her meals and held her when she sobbed and threw up due to nightmares, helping her through the trauma and trying not to throw up himself when Annabeth applied the ointment Will had given you to her back. When she told him of the fraught relationship she had with her father he decided that she needed someone who would be like family and had practically adopted her after they defeated Kronos, the seven, Nico and Will becoming the loving family she had always wanted.

When she pulled away, he nudged her to sit down as Annabeth started preparing chamomile tea for her in the hopes of relaxing her.

“What happened kiddo?” he asked softly, and she huffed a laugh at the nickname. He smiled when he remembered her reaction when he first said it.

“We’re literally the same age!” She threw her hands up as he laughed at her reaction.

“Doesn’t matter you’re technically younger than me.” He argued as she glared at him playfully before waving her hand, laughing when he was strung upside down by a thick vine encircling his ankle.

“Right that’s just unfair!” he laughed before adding “kiddo,” at the end, flipping her off when she rolled her eyes and let him fall and land in a heap, sitting up and rubbing his elbow.

“Rude.” He muttered but she just laughed, picking up the swords she was training with and moved to continue with her training.

They sat and listened as she explained what had happened, taking small sips of her hot tea as she went. When she finished Percy let out a soft curse.

“So Hermes just took him?” Annabeth asked, her eyebrows furrowed in a way Percy knew meant her mind was going a million miles an hour.

She nodded sadly, “there has to be something I can do right? I was finally making progress; I watched all three Iron Man movies with him.”

“That’s a lot of red,” Percy noted, and she bit her lip, nodding sadly.

“What if I never see him again?” She asked, the way her voice broke hit something inside him as he remembered how much it sucked being separated from Annabeth.

“You will.” Annabeth said with such certainty, Percy expected this faerie boyfriend to appear in the seat next to him. Annabeth lifted her bag and started pilling the books she had brought with her and (y/n) stood and moved around her living room, grabbing ones of her own.

“I figured old myths of my mum might help, y’know forbidden love and all,” she said the joke not quite reaching her eyes, but Annabeth nodded.

“I thought the same, but I also figured maybe something to do with Eurydice and Orpheus given he went to the underworld to get her back when they were separated.”

“Didn’t they both die at the end?” Percy asked and (y/n) laughed sadly.

“Shush,” Annabeth said, passing him a book and highlighter. He groaned.

“Why did I agree to this?” He asked but no one answered, and he looked up to see the two women already reading, determination covering their features, so he instead cracked his neck and picked up his own book.

--

Almost 10 hours later you slammed your book down in frustration, wiping your eyes roughly.

“Nothing, there isn’t one thing here. Either I do something stupid and we both die, or I need to find a way to be allowed to live in his world half the year and this one the other half.” Your shoulders slumped, “And that’s presuming I ever get to see him again, and then! Even then, I have what 70 years with him if I’m lucky. That’s nothing to him, he’s fucking five hundred years old.”

Annabeth looked up sympathetically, one hand woven in Percy’s hair as he slept with his head in her lap.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think this has ever happened before. We might have to start looking elsewhere.”

“I just miss him. I know it’s not even been a day, but he was my soulmate, Hermes said so, he thinks I didn’t hear, but I did and now my chest actually hurts now that he’s gone. He’s gone and I don’t think he’s coming back.” You didn’t know how you had any tears left but they were flowing down your cheeks, hot against your cold hands as you wiped your face.

“You will, I promise we’ll figure something out, even if we have to go to the Gods themselves.” Annabeth smiled at you.

“WAIT!” Percy jumped up suddenly, surprising you both, given he appeared to be sleeping. “The Gods, (y/n) you never got your reward.”

“What?”

“After the battle and the fall, you were offered a reward, but you said no because you sensed you would need it in the future. This is the future you need it now you can be with him!” Percy was practically running circles around your living room, gesturing widely as his arms flailed but Annabeth had gone wholly still, doing the math in her head.

“He’s right, that could work.” You felt hope rise in your chest as Annabeth spoke, “But you would have to be specific, if we’ve pissed off Zeus he’ll try trick you, he’s kinda like a genie.” You let out a genuine laugh.

“I think I need to visit my mum,” you said, eyes bright with hope.

“But it’s September.” Percy said, and you gave him a pained smile, grimacing as you realised where you were going.

“I think Nico and I are overdue for a family dinner.”

[hela-avenger]

To the Stars Who Listen- Part 3

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1583

Summary: When Loki desires to never fall in love, he casts a spell to prevent such a thing from happening. Except, well, in the matters of love and magic, you never know the result it may have in the end. Loki x Reader

A/N: And so it begins! Thanks for all the likes/reblogs/comments everyone! I see them and I appreciate them! I’ll probably be updating every Tuesday and Thursday now so there’s that. Tags are open!

TTSWL Masterlist

You feel like you’re floating in the middle of a dark pool surrounded by cold and unknown waters. It is relentless in its attempts to drag you down into nothing. Some part of you desires to just let yourself sink and try to ground yourself to whatever you find below. It would be so easy and yet a part of you knew that if you allowed yourself to reach the bottom you would be unable to float up once again. 

So you fight against the rising tide to keep your head above the water. It doesn’t take long then to be pulled out of that darkness. 

“She’s waking up.” 

“She can’t,” someone mumbles next to you. “That tranq should have kept her under for the rest of the night.” 

“It’s the power within her. Must have adapted around the sedative to wake its host up from it. The power won’t be put so easily to rest.” 

“Then do something about it!” 

“I can’t until she’s fully conscious!” 

As if on cue, your eyes flutter open. Your eyelids feel heavy and the brightness in the room doesn’t help your sudden weak state. 

“What’s-” you voice cracks and your tongue feels so foreign in your mouth. “What’s going on?”

Your sight blurs in and out but you recognize that bright red hair from anywhere. 

“Nat?” 

“Hey, Y/N,” she whispers beside you. “It’s ok. You’re ok.” 

You can’t help but feel suddenly angry at the lie that she’s so blatantly telling you at the moment. 

“Liar, liar,” you mutter through gritted teeth. “Pants on...”

A hand is quick to cover your mouth and you move to shove it off only to find your hands handcuffed to the hospital bed. 

“That would have not bode well and you know that.”  

You glare at your assailant only to find Loki staring down at you with a grin. The anger doesn’t fade away at the sight of him. It seems to enhance and he takes notice of it too. 

“Everyone out!” 

Your eyes snap away as you take in the crowd that’s in the room. Everyone is apparently there and you find this sudden urge to yell at them for staring. 

“We’re not-” Tony starts to say before Loki cuts him off. 

“She’s still quite volatile and until she gains some ounce of control, she will not stop until you are all disposed of.” 

With that warning, they all have no other choice but to leave. They all shoot you a sympathetic look and you despise it. You don’t know why you’re feeling so darkly about your friends but you couldn’t stop it. 

“I know,” Loki whispers as he looks down at you. “I know you are quite confused, but I’m going to let go of you now and I hope you can rein in your emotions and be civil with me.” 

His honesty is oddly refreshing and you find yourself relaxing under his hold. True to his word, he releases you and you watch closely as he retreats into the seat next to you.  

“I’m sure you have questions.” 

“So, so many, don’t know where to begin,” you answer. “My head is spinning and I see no end.” 

You frown at the choice of words that flowed out of your mouth so casually. 

“Why am I rhyming? Why can’t I stop? Tell me now before my head drops.” 

“I will answer your questions but I need you to remain calm,” Loki responds. “Can’t have you losing your head... literally.” 

You take a deep breath trying your best to ease your mind, but it was hard. You didn’t know what was going on and why, out of everyone you knew, Loki was the one assisting you with it. 

“You seemed surprised to find everyone here,” Loki states. “Do you not remember how you got here?” 

You shake your head feeling uneasy of not having any recent memories since the museum. 

“You found a book, one of mine, known as the Book of Veritas,” Loki explains. “Essentially, you got too close to it and it unleashed a power to you. I’m not sure exactly the extent of your abilities but I do know that you will have a knack of always knowing the truth of whoever you meet.” 

He pauses as you try to make sense of everything you’ve been told. Oddly enough, some innate part of you told you he wasn’t lying which further proved that his explanation was indeed right.  

“Now, as for your rhyming tongue,” Loki takes a deep breath and shrugs. “I can only presume that this new psychic development is one your mortal mind isn’t capable of withstanding. You are overwhelmed and your mind has reverted to a default language to ease the strain.” 

“This is not ok,” you mumble. “Am I stuck this way?” 

“No, not if I can help it,” Loki answers. “The rhyming is getting on my nerves already.” 

He frowns, narrowing his eyes at you. 

“Don’t know why I told you that. Must be another side effect of yours.” 

You open your mouth to respond but close it when you realize that whatever apologies you had would end up rhyming and sounding insincere. 

Loki doesn’t question your silence and instead props his hand up for you to take. You find yourself hesitating even though something told you he meant no harm.

“I just need to assess the power you have,” Loki explains. “It’ll be quick and harmless.” 

With that answer, you raise your hand as far as the handcuff allowed you to. Loki met you halfway and you instantly feel a warmth spreading through your body. 

“Hmm,” he hums. “That’s surprising.” 

He lets go of your hand and looks up at you. 

“You’ve grown stronger since you first came in. Not strong enough to expel your power physically so we will have to do this the hard way.” 

“Hard way?” you repeat. 

“You need to dig deep and spread some truth.”

“How is that hard?” 

“Because certain truths, the heaviest ones, we like to keep real close,” Loki explains. “You don’t remember this, but you pinpointed some of your friends' insecurities when you first came in. You were quite cruel with them.“

You frown at hearing this hoping your friends knew you hadn’t meant any of it. As if sensing where your mind had drifted to, Loki speaks up. 

“They know it wasn’t you,” he assures you. “It’s all because of the power residing in you. There is no way to extract it without killing you so the solution here is to gain control of it. Seeing as I am the expert on the book and magic itself, I’m going to train you. So first, let’s get you back to speaking normally.” 

You nod in response and take a deep breath. 

“Speak the truth. Use me as a target if you wish. I like to think I’ve got thick skin when it comes to taunting.”

You hesitate at Loki’s offer, but you find it so easy to read him. 

“Little Loki went into the Great Hall. Little Loki had a big fall. Little Loki was the laughing stock of them all. Little Loki felt so utterly small.” 

Loki chuckles at the memory you brought forth. It was simple and childish. Yes it was embarrassing to fall in front of the royal court but it was just a drop in the ocean compared to everything else. He sits back in his chair and looks at you. 

“Now I know you can do better than that,” Loki states. “Come on, dig deeper.” 

You find yourself focusing a bit harder on him and the words just slipped out of your mouth with ease. 

“Silver tongue turned to lead. Thor won her heart in your stead. Princess Elvira loved the royal prince. Loki wasn’t even offered a second glimpse.” 

That one did make him wince but Loki wasn’t utterly devastated at the memory of the Alfheim princess favoring his brother over him. You were getting close to gaining some control but your rhyming tongue still stood strong. 

“Dig deeper,” Loki repeats. 

You take a deep breath and clear your mind of everything but Loki. Envisioning his image, his voice, his overall being. 

Eyes turning red. Ivory skin turning blue. Cold, everything is cold. 

“I…” you stammer out confused. “I’ll rather not say.”

Loki pauses wondering what it is that you saw but withheld from saying. 

“Y/N.” 

“No, it’s a secret for a reason,” you shake your head. “I don’t really understand what I saw exactly but it felt so dark.” 

Loki knew better than to push you to state what you saw in him. He suspected already of the secret you might have uncovered. You had certainly dug deep if you managed to find it. 

He shrugs it off like he always does and looks at you with a small smile.

“You didn’t rhyme that time,” Loki states. “You managed to not only control what truth to find but whether or not to say it. That’s progress.” 

“Does that mean I can get these off?” you ask as you raise your cuffed wrists. 

With a snap of his fingers, the handcuffs are pried open. You stare down at your freed wrists and look up at him in surprise. Last you were told, Loki was incapable of doing magic.  

“How did you do that?” 

Loki doesn’t deem you a verbal response as he offers you a grin before getting up and leaving you on your own.

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