#you all kept mocking him for wearing the same shirt

[rainebownerd]

You guys he was being so plain because he knew!!!! He knew that if he went all out all the time like Aabriya, we wouldn't survive it

[chimielie]

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

[hayleythesugarbowl]

please an ian hecox x reader fic i need🥺 maybe like a first date or something like that there’s just not enough Ian fics

First Fake Date || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ summary: oneshot where Ian finds out his ex-girlfriend is going to be at an upcoming event and when you volunteer to go as his fake-date things don’t go quite as either of you planned.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: none

a/n: thanks for the request babes!! I agree we need more ian x reader fics, i hope you enjoy this one!! i kept the first date theme but i took some liberties and i made the reader female so i hope this is what you wanted <3🍒🪩

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Alright the event this Friday, what’s everyone wearing?” Courtney said, putting her legs up on the table in front of her.  

    You were lounging around the studio with almost the entire Smosh cast in between shoots. 

    “Exactly what I’m wearing right now?” Angela lifted her head from Amanda’s lap and gestured to her sweatshirt.

     “Very funny,” Courtney said.

     “Honestly same,” Shayne agreed, looking up from his phone.

     Courtney shot him a look but secretly you agreed with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about the YouTube event Smosh was going to, it was just that you weren’t exactly excited about it. You kind of had a history of embarrassing yourself at things like this. Like last month when you tripped in your impossibly tall heels and landed in the lap of a very unhappy old man. In his defense, you had spilled wine down the front of his dress shirt.

     “As long as there’re no heels involved, I don’t really care what it is,” You said.

     “You people have no sense of style,” Courtney faked disgust. 

     “Speak for yourselves, this chain begs to differ,” Ian walked into the room, pretending to model the outfit he was wearing.

     “He wears one chain and suddenly it’s ‘his brand’,” Amanda joked.

     “Hey laugh all you want, but this thing’s a magnet for the ladies.”

     Everyone burst out laughing and Ian mocked offense.

     “Well I for one think you look great,” you smiled at him and he beamed back at you.

     “Besides,” he continued, “I have to look good ‘cause my ex-girlfriend is going to be at the event this Friday. I bet she’s bringing that perfect boyfriend of her’s too who ‘has a real, important job’.”

     “Wait, the same girlfriend who broke up with you at the last event?” Damien asked.

     You hadn’t been at Smosh yet then, but you’d heard the story multiple times.

     “That’s the one. And now I get to show up a year later, still without a date.”

     “If only you had a girlfriend you could bring, but oh wait, that’s right—” Shayne teased.

     “That’s right,” Ian agreed

     “I’ll be your date,” you burst out.

     You didn’t know what made you say it. Maybe you sympathized with having embarrassing moments at classy gatherings. Maybe you just felt like helping your boss out. Or maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the fact that you may or may not have had a tiny crush on Ian when you first started working at Smosh. 

     But that was a long time ago…ok maybe months ago, and something you’d never admit aloud. You were just offering to help out a friend. Right?

     “Really? You’d do that for me?” Ian asked you.

     “Sure! No one has to know it’s our first date—or not-first-date. We can tell your ex we’ve been dating for months.”

    “That actually might work,” Ian grinned at you. 

    “Ooh, I can pick out matching outfits for you guys!” Courtney interjected.

     “No,” you both said in unison.

     “Well, I’ll pick you up on Friday at 8:00 for our not-first-date,” Ian looked at you, his eyes gleaming.

     “See you then,” you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

     “Actually you guys will see each other in like 45 minutes for TNTL,” Amanda said.

     “Right.” You said.

     After this Ian left the room and you turned back to your friends who were all looking at you as if they knew something you didn’t.

     You took in their scheming stares. “What?”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     The rest of the week passed fairly quickly with no more talk of the event except for Ian asking your advice on what to wear—which everyone seemed to think so adorable for reasons you couldn’t understand or just refused to entertain. 

     And suddenly, just like that it was Friday and you were answering your door to a nervous-looking Ian holding out flowers to you.

     “Since it’s our ‘first date’,” he winked at you and you rolled your eyes at him, a smile blooming on your face, “I thought I’d bring you these.”

     “Thank you,” you said, “and you look great!”

     And he did. His maroon suit fit him perfectly and you couldn’t help but notice that it did end up matching the light pink dress with a crimson belt you chose.

     “And you look…wow.” He admired you and it took all of you not to blush at his words.

     He took you to his car, and insisted on opening your door for you since it was a ‘first date’. You looked over at Ian from the passenger seat and thought how you were surprised at how much of a gentleman he could be. Your goofy, laid-back boss definitely had a romantic side and would make some girl very happy someday, you thought.

    By the time you arrived at the event, you and Ian had barely said a word to each other. Which was odd, to say the least, seeing as you never really felt awkward around him or anybody at Smosh.

     “You ready for this?” Ian asked you as you stepped out of the car and headed toward the building the event was held at.

     You answered by taking his hand in yours and smiling up at him.

     You walked into the venue together and took in the layout. A makeshift stage had been set up for guest speakers at one end and as for the rest of it—cocktail tables scattered throughout the room, lights hanging from the ceiling and trailing down the walls and onto the refreshment tables lining the edges of the room, and hundreds of people, some who you recognized and others you didn’t, mingling and eating and—in the case of your friends—waving at you and Ian.

     You two walked over to them. Everyone took in your fingers intertwined.

     “Can’t keep your hands off her?” Angela teased Ian.

     “I uh—”

     You thought you sensed a faint blush on Ian’s cheeks as he tried to respond.

     You interrupted. “It’s a fake date, remember? Would you prefer we stood 8 feet apart at all times?”

     “So,” you turned to Ian, “where is this ex of yours?”

    “Yeah, now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her yet,” Damien said.

    “And anyone could spot her curly red bush—I mean hair—a mile away,” Shayne joked.

     “Maybe she’s not here yet,” Ian said, and then to you, “let’s go get some drinks.”

     He led you over to one of the refreshment tables, and as you were walking, you saw her.

     A tall, gorgeous woman in a tight green dress stood about 20 feet away from you. This had to be her, you thought, looking at her auburn curls done up in a twisted updo that made your simple bun look…well, simple. 

     You nudged Ian, “Found your ex.”

     He looked over at her, his brow furrowed, and then recovering quickly he looked back at you.

     “Yep, that’s her.”

     “Well, then let’s go introduce ourselves as a couple.”

     “No,” he said quickly, and then added “I mean, no not yet. We don’t want to seem too desperate.”

     You looked at him curiously but figured he was probably right. 

     You had a new idea.

     “Then let’s give her a little show.” 

     “(Y/n), what are you—” 

     You dragged him more into his ex-girlfriend’s line of vision. 

     “Ok, now kiss me.”

     “What?”

     “She’s looking, kiss me.”

      He looked at you like you might be crazy but he also had a look of determination on his face. Determined to impress his ex, you figured. He leaned in slowly and suddenly his mouth was on yours, kissing you quickly. It was awkward at first but as you pulled apart and looked to make sure the woman was still watching you—she was—you thought that it hadn’t been altogether bad.

     “That was, um, thank you for…that,” Ian said, breathless.

     “Sure,” you said, “anything for a good vengeance plot.”

     “Oh, be careful,” Ian said suddenly,

and you looked around, confused. “Old man two o’clock.”

     “Ha ha, very funny,” he elbowed him in the ribs remembering the horrors of last event, but you were grinning as you did so.

     “Hey, ouch!” He laughed, “We’re supposed to be in love remember?”

     And so that’s how you spent the rest of the night. Making sure she could see you when you touched Ian or pretended to laugh at a joke he made or leaned in close as if you were whispering something in his ear. 

     As the night went on it became easier and easier to pretend to be a couple. You hadn’t talked to Ian’s ex yet—he always had some reason for not going over to her. But you thought you’d done a good job of making her think you were dating. 

     And the truth was, you were enjoying yourself. You were having a great time, spending hours with Ian. 

     Like now, as you looked in Ian’s ex-girlfriend’s direction before saying to Ian, “So, since this is a date I guess I should do this.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “And tell you how gorgeous your eyes are.” They really were, you thought as you stared into them.

     Ian leaned closer to you, planting a kiss on your jawline. “And since it’s a date I guess I should tell you how you shine brighter than all the lights in the room and how I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful.”

     “And I should pull you closer,” you added, grabbing his lapels.

     “And then maybe I would tell you how much I wanted your lips on mine. Again,” he said.

     He leaned farther towards you and your lips met his. He kissed you, really kissed you this time. He was gentle at first, but then his hands were in your hair as he kissed you harder and you leaned into it, kissing him back. 

     “For a fake date this sure seems pretty real.”

     You broke apart, looking up and finding Courtney standing in front of you smiling.

     Your voice came out more breathy than you would have liked. “We were just—Ian’s ex is right there and—”

     “She’s not even over here,” Courtney said looking between you too. “See?”

     You looked around you and realized she was gone. How long had she been gone? You let yourself imagine what it would be like if this was a real first date. Would that be so bad? Was it bad if it already felt real?

     Courtney left you guys with a cryptic smile before walking over to a table with drinks on it. 

     “So,” you started, “I—”

     “I’ll be right back,” Ian said, then quickly walked towards the door at the back of the venue.

     You stood there for a second. Was he avoiding you? Just leaving after you’d shared a moment like that? Was the kiss that bad?

      You walked back over to the table where all of your friends were standing and chatting. 

     “Hey! Where’s Ian going?” Courtney asked you

     “Bathroom?” You guessed.

     You scanned the room. There was Ian’s ex again. Now she shows up, you thought wryly.

     Courtney followed your gaze, “You know her?”

     You looked at her, “That’s Ian’s ex-girlfriend.”

    “No, it’s not,” she said.

    “What? Yes it is.”

     “Here,” Shayne pulled out his phone and a moment later showed you a picture of your boss with his arm around a short woman with red hair, “that’s Ian’s ex.”

     You were shocked. “But then who’s she?”

     “That’s a question for Ian,” Angela said, pointing towards him. You saw him walking towards you and you met him halfway.

     “Ian? Who’s the woman in the green dress?”

      He looked taken aback by the question, and putting his hands in his pockets, he said, “What do you mean?”

     “Well, apparently you never dated her.”

     “Um, about that” he started, hesitating, and then taking a deep breath he answered you. “I don’t know that woman. I’ve never seen her in my life.” He admitted this in a rush, looking for your reaction.

     “Why did you tell me she was your ex-girlfriend?”

     He looked down, almost bashful. “My ex isn’t at this event.”

     You took a step back, in shock, “Then why did you need me to be your fake date?”

     He looked at you intently, “I didn’t…need a fake date, I mean.”

     “But—”

     “I did, originally. But then I found out my ex wasn’t going to be able to make it because her and her boyfriend both have the flu.” He started to smile, then stopped himself, coughing, “Which is really too bad.”

     Another time you might have laughed, but now you stopped yourself, rolling your eyes at him.

     “So you lied to me?” You asked him, hurt.

     “I didn’t mean to—

     “But if you knew your ex wasn’t coming, then what’s this?” You gestured between the two of you. You were asking yourself just as much as him.

     “I may have—withheld the truth—because I,” he cleared his throat, “I may have wanted to go on a date with you.”

     “What?” Of all the answers you were expecting…

     “I think you’re great (Y/n), and I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but I never quite knew how, and then you offered to be my date to this thing and it was going to be perfect—even if it was fake—and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth. I’m sorry.” 

     “So yes, I lied to you. But I meant what I said though,” Ian said softly, “about you being beautiful and about wanting to kiss you.”

     You thought back through the night, taking all this in. All the fake moments that apparently weren’t so fake. For either of you, you realized. Because you had enjoyed being his pretend date, even if at some point you stopped pretending.

     “I just wish you would have asked me to be your real date. I would have said yes you know,” you told him.

     “Really?” He was definitely blushing now and you grinned up at him.

     “The night’s not over yet, we could still make this an official first date,” you said. 

     “(Y/n), will you go out with me?”

     “I’d love to Ian.”

     He began slow dancing with you even though this most definitely was not a slow dancing event. 

     “Ian!”

     As you looked into his eyes, though, and you saw the way he was looking at you—like he’d been waiting for this for a long time—you couldn’t ignore how perfect this moment was and you let him sway you.

     “Not bad for a first date, Hecox,” you joked.

     “Here’s to many more?”

     “Definitely.”

     He kissed you, your first officially real first kiss, and you couldn’t have been happier. 

     Cheering erupted and you looked over where all of your friends were standing, whistling and clapping at you. 

     “Still think it’s a fake date?” Courtney called to you.

     You looked at all the people around you, some of which had begun to stare at your display. You looked at Ian looking at you like you were the only girl in the world. You looked back at your friends, still waiting for your response.

     “I think nothing’s ever been more real.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed!! i love ian so much and im glad someone else does too!! if you want more ian x reader check out my other ian fic!! have a lovely day/night <3

[thatoneneuvichiliauthor]

Something I noticed that I wanted to point out: When we see Aven as a baby in that flashback he’s clearly being swaddled by some white fabric, but when you look closer you notice the burnt edges. The same burnt edges that are on the shirt we see him wearing in every flashback at all his different ages. The shirt his dad left behind after he died is the same shirt that held him as a baby. Idk I just thought it was sweet and sad that that same shirt was all he had of his dad even then, and it’s been with him since he was born (also it’s sweet to imagine ratio finding that shirt one day and asking Aven about it)

Oh it's so touching and sad, I didn't pick up on that when I played the quest so thanks for pointing it out! And yes Aven explaining to Ratio what the shirt means to him would be very sweet indeed!

And speaking of the few objects Aven still has from his parents, thinking about it made me realize something: you know how at one point, future!Aventurine mocks Aven for never selling the charm and necklace he inherited from his mother, even though it could have granted him a comfortable life? Well, it just dawned upon me that selling those wasn't his only option. He could have used them as his first gambling chips (and then kept them, since he is so lucky). But he didn't. Even with Gaiathra's blessing, he just couldn't take the risk to lose something so precious. Which means that Mr. "I'm going all in, even with my life" actually owns something he is unwilling to put on the table, something that in his eyes holds more value than his existence itself, and that something is his last link to his family. And that is just so incredibly tragic and sweet too 😭

[maluuustrawberry]

"My biggest treasure"

(Tulio X Fem!Reader X Miguel)

(The road to El Dorado fanfiction)

{Part. 2}

{Part. 1}

A/N: I'm really happy with the support you're giving me and that you're enjoying my fanfiction. I promise that I will soon post what you asked me to write, I didn't forget, don't worry, lol.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

~ Moments before...~

I drew my sword and pointed it at them, the first man was a blond with medium hair and wearing a red shirt, the second man... my eyes went wide, I immediately recognized him, he was the man who robbed me!...

~

~ {Pov} Y/n:

“You?!...” I said angrily and pointed my sword at him, who looked at me in confusion.

“Me?” he asked.

“Sir, is your voice too girlish or is it just me?” The blond asked confusedly as he put his hands up.

Damn it, I spoke in my real voice... I regained my "manly" posture and got back to the point:

“You two!” I forced my voice to maintain my disguise and carried on as if nothing had happened. “Thieves... The captain will be thrilled to know there are stowaways on that ship!”

“Hey mister, calm down, it was a misunderstanding.” The blond tried to explain himself, still holding his hands up.

“I told you this plan wouldn't work!” The thief muttered to the other.

“And it definitely didn't.” I said, still pointing my sword at them. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't hand you over to the general.”

“Listen, me and my friend here were on the run and ended up hiding in these barrels, only we didn't know that these barrels were going to...” The blond began to explain until he looked around thoughtfully. “What ship are we on?”

“General Cortés' ship, heading for El Dorado....” I replied and they looked surprised and scared at the same time.

“Oh... Right...” The blond cleared his throat. “Anyway, we were on the run and ended up hiding in these loads. Please, we swear it was an accident.”

“Running away? Running away from the guards, right?” They kept quiet as if they had nothing to argue about. “You, blondie, I can forgive. But you...” I pointed my sword at the brunette. “You'll see me before you go to the general, you bastard!”

“Hey, wait a minute, do I know you? What have I done to you?” He asked confused.

“You know very well.” I ended up letting my real voice take over, I couldn't control myself any longer, I was angry after all. “Give back the diary and the money you stole from me!” I pointed my sword at his face.

“Wait, wait i shaved this morning...” He mocked, but looked scared at the sword.

“Oh yeah? There's a bit missing... Come on! Give back what you stole from me.”

“Wait a minute, little woman! I didn't steal anything from you!”

“What did you call me, Thief?!”

“Calm down, Tulio...” The blond meddled, if he hadn't meddled I'd have put that sword through that bastard's neck. “Control yourself.”

“That idiot has to control himself! He's even pitching his voice like an angry little girl!” The thief, whose name was Tulio, mocked me.

I quickly took off my hat, let my hair down and took off my fake moustache, revealing who I really was:

“And I really am an angry little girl, you scoundrel...”

They were surprised by this, especially Tulio:

“You?!” Tulio asked, surprised and looking down at me.

“Wait, for God's sake what's going on? I'm very confused right now.” The blond said as he tried to get out of the barrel. “Let's take it easy.”

“And you, stay there! Stay where you are, both of you!” I pointed the sword at them and the blond immediately went back into the barrel without question.

“What is it, Princess? It's not enough that you know how to read and you've had that dead fish bath, and you're humiliating yourself by pretending to be a man?” Tulio spoke mockingly and looking at me up and down.

“Humiliating myself? No dear, I'm trying to survive, earning honest money unlike you!”

“You should be looking after the house instead of doing this!”

“Shut up or I'll cut out your tongue, you bastard!” I said, pointing the sword at him.

“Do you know each other?” The blond man asked.

“He stole my money and my diary when I was at the market and made me fall into a puddle on the ground full of dead fish!”

“It's not my fault you're so clumsy!” Tulio said.

“That wouldn't have happened if you hadn't robbed me!”

“You shouldn't have followed me!”

“You should know what woman you're messing with!” I said, approaching him and pointing the sword right at his face.

“Calm down! Calm down.” The blond interjected again, looking like he was trying not to laugh. “If this was all about the diary and the money, we can return it and pretend nothing happened.”

“How are we going to give it back if we bet...” I heard Tulio whisper to blondie, but he interrupted him by elbowing the brunette.

“You'll definitely give me back what you stole. Now the part about pretending nothing happened I won't do...”

“Wait! Trust me!” The blond insisted.

“How? You're his friend.” I couldn't take my eyes off Tulio. “And it's like the Bible says: 'Tell me who you're with and I'll tell you who you are'.”

“You're looking for El Dorado, aren't you?” As soon as he touched on this subject, my attention went to him... how did he know?

“How you...”

“I read your diary.” He interrupted, picking up the notebook in his pocket and handing it to me. I immediately took my father's diary from his hands. “We can make a deal.”

“I don't make deals with thieves.”

“Please listen to me.” The blond man spoke calmly and looked into my eyes, somehow I was moved by this, he really seemed to want to say something important, I sighed and looked at him, waiting for him to say it. He's very persistent. “We want to find this city just as much as you do, we can form a partnership, get off this ship together and go after the city.”

“Miguel!” Tulio scolded him.

“Me? Making a deal with thieves? no way!” I couldn't trust them straight away, especially this brunette, but I was curious, they're really confident of finding this city. “After all, do you have any more clues or was it just my diary? I'll warn you in advance that we don't know for sure if these notes are real.”

“Look at this...”

“No! You're not going to show...” Tulio held Miguel's hand, preventing him from showing me anything. This made me even more curious.

“Show me, now...” I said firmly, pointing the sword at Tulio, who slowly let go of Miguel's hand. It was easy to intimidate them both...

Miguel took out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to me, I unfolded the paper and it was a map, the map that led to El Dorado, I looked for any signs of forgery, but there weren't any, it was real, it even had some of the things my father had mentioned in his diary:

“How did you get this?...” I asked.

“We'll explain later.” Miguel continued. “You seem to be a very intelligent and strong woman to have disguised yourself as a man for all this time, and you know a lot about the city. Look, with the map and your research, we'll find this city easily and you'll get all the gold you want. Help us get off this ship and come with us.”

I was silent for a few seconds, I don't know if I should go with them, my dream and my father's has always been to find this city, it's a good opportunity, they have the map. But they're thieves, they could ambush me or betray me...

“Miguel, do you know that little voice in your head that tells you to stop?” Tulio asked. “You don't have one?!”

“All right, I'll go.” I said and put my sword away. Miguel looked at me with excitement and a gleam of joy in his eyes, while Tulio was disbelieving and shocked.

“Oh, that's great!” Miguel said and I immediately interrupted.

“But... if you plan or even think about cheating on me, you'll see me.”

“Relax, I promise I won't.” Miguel said sincerely. “You can trust me.”

“I'll give you a chance... Beware that I take promises seriously.”

“And if you ever think of telling on us, telling anyone that there are two intruders on this ship...” Tulio said as he climbed out of the barrel with Miguel and came closer to me. “... I don't think they're going to like knowing that they're bringing a woman undercover for this trip on the ship all this time...” He gave a mischievous smile. “After all, women on a ship are a bad omen.”

“Are you threatening me?” I asked a little angrily.

“An eye for an eye, my dear. You've blown our cover and we've blown yours, so we're even.” Actually, I showed it myself in my anger. “If you do anything stupid, You know what will happen. You have no choice but to help us get off this ship without being discovered.”

“You really are a bastard...”

“And you're quite the liar, you managed to fool even the general with your disguises, princess.” Tulio grabbed my chin and lifted my face to look at him, I hated that bastard.

“Call me princess one more time and I'll drive this sword right through your a-...”

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Miguel stepped in and stood between the two of us, putting his arms around our shoulders and pulling Tulio and I closer together. “There's no reason for us to fight anymore, guys. Look, the three of us, the first to find El Dorado and the men...” He interrupted himself and looked at me. “And you... We will be the richest in Spain.”

Miguel was really excited, it would certainly be a good adventure, even with the annoying Tulio around, the blond finally let us go and spoke:

“I don't think we've introduced ourselves before. My name is Miguel, this is Túlio.” He pointed to his friend next to him. “And you? I don't know your name yet, señorita.”

“Y/n. My name is Y/n.”

“Good, Y/n. Now... do you have a plan for us to get out of here?”

Miguel asked and I thought for a few seconds, then the idea popped into my head, but Tulio spoke before me:

“First we get as much food as possible...”

“I thought the question was for me.” I interrupted him, before he could go on about the plan.

“My dear, I'm the idea man here, I make the plans. What's a woman going to plan? That we dress up as women for the men on the ship and seduce them?”

“Not a bad idea.” I gave him a mischievous smile, teasing him. “After all, you wearing a dress would scare the men off the ship and it would be much easier.” Tulio frowned, getting annoyed.

“Guys, the plan...” Miguel reminded us and tried to ignore this argument between me and Tulio, letting out a sigh.

“Well, we grab as much food as possible, get a rowboat and head back to Spain with everything we can give...”

“Spain? I thought we were going to El Dorado.” I interrupted Tulio, who was looking at me disapprovingly. “Are you really going to row to Spain? Do you have any idea where we are?”

“And by the way, how did we get off the deck without being discovered?” Miguel asked Túlio, with a little smile on his face. The brunette kept quiet for a few seconds and then continued.

“Okay. First, we disguise ourselves as these men who work here on this ship and...”

“The general and all the men will recognize you on the spot.” I interrupted once more.

“All right, what's your idea, smart girl?!” Tulio snapped.

“Well, you're lucky I'm the 'Man'.” I made quotation marks with my fingers. “In charge of the ship's cargo. I'll keep up my disguise until nightfall and in the meantime you two stay here, hiding in the barrels and I'll get our rowboat ready with the food so we can leave at night when everyone's asleep.”

“Yeah, that's a good plan.” Miguel said, winking at Tulio, who rolled his eyes. “Okay, good luck, Y/n.”

“Are you really going to trust her?” Tulio asked Miguel in disbelief.

“We made a promise.” I said as I tied up my hair and put on the hat that had been lying on the floor, starting to return to my disguise. “And you can bet I take promises seriously.”

“I don't trust you.” Tulio said in an attempt to offend me.

“Let alone me you, do you think I'm going to easily trust someone who stole from me?” I put on my fake mustache. “I'm not asking you to trust me, after all you have no choice, I know this ship and I know the way to escape better than you two.”

I put up the ladder to leave the ship's deck, before I left, I looked back and they were hiding, Good. I left the deck and closed the door carefully, I hope it works...

~{Pov} Miguel:

I watched the woman leave the deck, Tulio and I immediately went into the barrels where we were, while we hid, I decided to talk to him, I wanted to know his opinion of Y/n:

“Are you really going to trust her? What about our scheme?” Túlio asked, as if he had already guessed that I was going to talk about it. “It was just 'Miguel and Túlio' and no one else!”

“It's good to have new people in the group from time to time.” I said as I picked up the barrel lid. “Think about it, the three of us have the same goals!” I said with a smile on my face.

“No, we don't. It's just you and that crazy woman who want to find a city that doesn't even exist.”

“El Dorado does exist, Tulio. If you took a look at that girl's diary... there was plenty of proof that El Dorado was real, and what's more, we have a map!”

“I'm still not going to take her with us.”

“Come on. Give her a chance, I liked the girl.”

“Give her a chance? That crazy woman wants to kill me at the first opportunity!”

I started making that face of mine when I ask Tulio for something, it always works. He got angry:

“Aaah! Okay... let's go to El Dorado.”

“Yeah!”

To be continued...

[paddockletters]

I'll take the opportunity | pablo gavi and pedri gonzalez

2nd part here request: yes/ hello can you do a love triangle with pedri and gavi where they both compete for yns attention thank you for you request ❤ summary: two best friends in love with the same girl, she is confused as they both want her. pairing: pablo gavi x reader ; pedri x reader warnings: some angst, arguments, maybe a broken heart? words count: 1.9 k author note: I enjoyed writing this so much, I REALLY want to write a second part, what do you think? if you want a second part and have any ideas, please let me know, thank you!

You had met the boys through friends.

Mostly, you had a better relationship with Gavi, since you were the same age, had similar interests, and used to go out from time to time.

You could say you were romantically attracted to him, though you weren’t sure if he felt the same. Still, you had been flirting for a while, having conversations that went beyond friendship, even holding hands. But nothing had been said openly, so you kept it to yourself while trying to figure out your true feelings.

On the other hand, you had a good relationship with Pedri too, although he was a bit more reserved than Gavi. You had hung out a few times, but only in groups, never alone. The conversations with Pedri were always interesting. He was pretty cute too, you had to admit, but with him, it was hard to tell if there was any romantic interest.

You had been trying to meet up for days, but between his training, interviews, and your busy university schedule, it hadn’t worked out. Still, you kept messaging each other.

This week, you had agreed to go out for lunch with Gavi, since he would be busier in the coming days with an important match. He had already invited you, and you couldn’t say no, obviously—not just to see your favorite team play, but also to spend time with him and Pedri... Just to enjoy watching your two friends.

You were sitting with Gavi in a restaurant, hidden away from fans and the press, as they could be quite annoying. He didn’t want to expose you. Gavi wanted to keep you to himself, not wanting to ruin whatever was happening between you, especially not against his friend. Because yes, Gavi had noticed the looks you and Pedri exchanged.

“How are you feeling? Aren’t you nervous about the game on Sunday?” you asked Gavi, smiling.

“Kind of, but I’m more excited than anything. I hope Xavi lets me play the whole game and, obviously, score a goal.” You could see the excitement in Gavi’s face, and you couldn’t help but feel it too. You knew he was a great player, always giving his all in every game—even if sometimes he went a little overboard.

“You’ll definitely play, but please don’t get into any fights, or you’ll get too heated,” you teased, giving him a playful tap on the shoulder.

“¡Qué va! Que yo soy un tío muy tranquilo hasta que me provocan.” (No way! I’m a very calm guy until someone provokes me.) He gave you a mock-offended look, laughing.

“Okay, fair enough. Gavi, I hope you manage to win; the team deserves it. You and Pedri have been great.” You couldn’t help mentioning Pedri—it was true. These two were the golden boys of the team.

Hearing Pedri’s name made Gavi feel a twinge of jealousy. Did you really see Pedri as just a friend? Did you have feelings for him too? He couldn’t lose you. Gavi immediately came up with an idea.

“Alright, I’ll make you a deal. You wear my shirt to the match, and if I score a goal, I’ll dedicate it to you. But you have to give me something in return,” Gavi said, flashing you a big smile.

“Okay, but where will I get the shirt from?”

“Don’t worry. I’ll give you one of mine before Sunday,” Gavi said, still smiling.

“Alright, it’s a deal. But what do I have to give you in ret—”

“Guys, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

It was Pedri.

Actually, he did know you were eating there. Some fan photos had been leaked online, and Pedri had come across them while scrolling through Twitter. Seeing those photos made him jealous, sad, and mad at himself for not asking you out sooner. But he wasn’t the only one upset—the fans were too. Even though the pictures only showed your back, Pedri knew it was you because of your silhouette and the way Gavi looked at you with that silly grin. So, Pedri didn’t hesitate to come to the restaurant. He knew this place; he and Gavi used to come here whenever they wanted privacy.

“Man, what a surprise!” Gavi said with a forced smile and fake excitement.

“Really? I wasn’t expecting to find you here. I was supposed to meet Ferran, but he’s running late. Mind if I sit with you?” Pedri asked, staring at you.

“No.” “Yes.” You and Gavi answered at the same time.

Gavi clearly wasn’t happy about Pedri’s interruption. It was his moment with you. But you, though slightly confused, were happy to see both of them together since you hadn’t been able to meet Pedri recently.

“Pedri, I’m glad to see you. We’ve finally managed to catch up!” you said, smiling at him. Pedri couldn’t help but smile back; he was happy to see you too.

Meanwhile, Gavi sulked in silence, annoyed by Pedri’s presence. He wasn’t going to let him ruin the moment.

“In fact, I was going to message you to meet up today,” Pedri said.

“Sí bueno, mala suerte, tío, que ella ha salido conmigo” (Yeah well, tough luck, man. She’s with me.) Gavi mumbled, scooting his chair closer to yours.

Pedri noticed the gesture, and his smile faded.

“Well, since I’m here, I wanted to invite you to the game on Sunday.”

“Thanks, Pedri, but—”

“I already invited her. She’s even promised to wear my shirt,” Gavi interrupted, pouting slightly and giving you a mock-sad face, which left you confused.

“Pedri, don’t worry. I’ll support you both. You’re my friends.”

Both boys went silent.

“Fair enough. That’s what friends are for, right?” Pedri replied, forcing a smile.

“Well, I guess I’ll order something to eat and join you guys,” Pedri said.

“Sure, I’ll talk to the waitress,” you said, smiling.

After Pedri’s food arrived, the three of you tried to chat as normally as possible.

“I’ll be right back,” Gavi said, standing up to head to the bathroom, leaving you alone with Pedri.

“What do you say I pick you up from uni tomorrow, and we watch a movie at my place?” Pedri asked, smiling with excitement.

“That sounds great!” you beamed. It was a perfect chance to spend more time with him.

“How do you feel about the match?” you asked.

“Pretty confident, actually. I’m really looking forward to it,” he replied, smiling. Like Gavi, Pedri’s passion for football was clear when he spoke about it.

“I know you’re going to do great. You’re an amazing player, Pedri.” He blushed at your compliment, looking incredibly cute.

“Thanks, Y/N. I promise, when I score, I’ll dedicate it to you,” he said, and now it was your turn to blush.

Two boys—best friends—had just promised to dedicate their goals to you on Sunday.

“Who are you dedicating your goal to? Tania, the girl you’re seeing?” Gavi suddenly asked as he sat back down.

You froze. That was awkward. Pedri’s expression quickly changed from surprised to irritated. He hadn’t expected Gavi to bring that up, especially not in front of you. Sure, he had gone on three dates with Tania, but that was before he started liking you. Those rumors about him and Tania being together? Just rumors. And now he was afraid you might believe them.

Tension hung in the air. Both boys seemed to be competing for your attention.

“¿Eso a qué viene, tío? Esa chica no tiene nada que ver, son solo rumores y ya.” (What’s that about, man? She has nothing to do with this, it’s just rumors.) Pedri responded, clearly annoyed, his face flushing with anger.

“Nothing, Pedri, you just told me there was something between you two. Relax.” Gavi played dumb, pushing Pedri’s buttons. He wasn’t going to back down.

“Okay, guys, calm down. I have to go. Y/BF/N is coming over to study,” you said, standing up and picking up your bag, leaving some money on the table for your meal.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Both Pedri and Gavi asked at the same time.

“Pablo, you don’t even have a driving license, what are you on about?” Pedri shot back at Gavi.

“We’re taking a taxi. Let’s go,” Gavi said.

“No way, I’ll drive her,” Pedri insisted, pulling out his car keys.

“No, no, it’s fine. See you on Sunday!” you said, heading for the exit.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Pedri called after you, causing Gavi to turn and glare at him.

“¿De qué vas, tío?” (What are you on about, man?) Gavi asked, annoyed.

“No, ¿de qué vas tú? ¿Por qué mencionaste a Tania enfrente de Y/N?” (What are you on about? Why’d you bring up Tania in front of Y/N?) Pedri shot back, pointing at him.

“I was just being honest. Better she knows you already have a girlfriend. I’m taking my shot.”

“You’re an idiot. You know there’s nothing between me and Tania,” Pedri snapped. “But you won’t win this, Gavi.”

“I’m not trying to win anything.”

“You like her. I like her. And Y/N’s too good for you.”

Pedri’s words hit hard, but Gavi didn’t let his temper get the better of him.

“Y/N deserves someone who treats her well. I won’t fight you over this; I’ll let her decide.”

“You think you’ve already won. But let’s make this clear—if she chooses me, you better not get in my way.”

“She won’t choose you, Pedri. I know her better.”

“We’ll see, Gavi. May the best man win,” Pedri said, flashing a smile.

By this time, Gavi was really pissed off, he definitely wouldn't let Pedri have a chance with you, not with the strong feelings he had for you, and that he knew you felt as well.

"Pedri, you can't do this to me. You know she and I have been flirting for a while now."

" You've said it, you're just flirting, fooling and there's nothing going on between you. I'll take the opportunity. I'm sorry Gavi, but I really like her". Pedri says that and leaves the place.

[piastrisversion]

straight from the tortured poets department || matty healy x gn!reader

genre: slight angst+slight smut || word count:

warnings: mentions of a daddy kink and unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), also mentions of sh, first paragraph is delusion city....

authors note: the rat has crawled his way back into my mind so ur favorite matty healy x gender neutral fanfic writer is back and better than ever!! the story begins after the cut off so click it and ENJOYYY!!

Christmas, 2022. It was hard to go on social media without seeing Matthew Healy. The new album, the tour, the songs probably written about you (the word "probably" in this scenario meaning "of course they are, why wouldn't they be"). The edits on TikTok didn't help you to forget and/or move on from him. The sad part was you tried to move on. All the therapy sessions in the world couldn't stop you from telling all your friends you loved him still.

Matty Healy (@trumanblack) liked your story.

8:30 pm on Christmas-motherfucking-Day. Obviously you're not complaining, you wanted him back. But the fact he took the time to search your account on Instagram and click your story and like it. He wanted to show that he cared, at least that's what you thought. But Matty is a smart man. He knew you would bend at the idea of him coming back. He knew you saw all the edits, tweets, so on and so forth. But no, you thought, you won't give him the pleasure of sliding into his DMs like you so desperately wanted to do moments before the notification shot through. But that didn't happen.

Two hours later, you found yourself knocking on that bastard's hotel room door. He ended up sliding into your DMs, almost begging you to see him on Christmas. Matty may have been smart but before all that he was pathetic. He admits to that. He likes to be called a good boy after a being on stage for fucking hours, his aching cock in your hole doing nothing but just sitting in there, warming it up. He's a self aware man and you two accept that. You beg that he isn't just wanting you here to fuck you but in the back of your mind you not just want it, you need it.

Sheepishly, he opens the door.

"Didn't think you'd actually come" he coos

"Why's that?" you answer back softly

"Left me on read."

You chuckle as you enter the room. He's wearing a half-buttoned dress shirt and dress pants, both wrinkled. The room smells of Glossier Body Hero body wash and Matty's way-too-expensive cologne, which most likely costs more than your rent that month. The room is clean, classy yet still messy in Matty fashion. He stands behind you as your eyes wander around the room. He almost looks at you in wonder before he reluctantly breaks the silence.

"I got ya somethin'"

You hum out as he shuffles into the bedroom, bringing out a medium sized gift-wrapped box after a moment or two.

"You left this in Manchester." he says in an almost cocky yet still vulnerable way.

You look almost confused as you sit on the couch nearby, setting the present down before tearing into the gift wrap. After tearing through half a meter of wrapping paper and a half hazardly taped Amazon box, you find the typewriter you kept in his flat. The one that was used to write the mountains of poems and stories you wrote for him. The same ones your friends wanted you to burn but you couldn't. You would protest that it was "your art", to be subtracted from the context it existed in. But that wouldn't be possible.

"H...how long have you been waiting to give this to me?"

You look up at him like a lost, confused puppy dog.

"Matty...matty i-"

"Hm?" he interrupts

"...Is this all?"

"...Also wanted to talk to ya"

"About?"

"Christ, take a guess, darlin'" he says sharply

You look away from him and back at the typewriter. The worn out "M" and "H" letters. You smile to yourself before looking back up at him.

"What about it? Heard your thoughts on that album of yours" you say mocking him to an extent.

"Still as hostile as ever" he says under his breath.

"Oh, I'm the hostile one?"

"Well yeah-"

"How am I hostile...tell me" you interrupt.

He looks away, thinking of a response before looking back into your eyes. He plops down on the couch next to you, turning his head towards you before plopping his head on your lap. You sigh before you running your hands through his soft black curls. The room turns silent as the tension between the two of you turns comfortable as he nuzzles into your lap.

"Jus' miss ya...is all, I guess" he coos out, "Sorry if you got harassed or somethin'... didn't mean to start anything".

"I'm an adult, I'll be fine if some teenagers on the Internet tell me to slit my wrists, Matthew"

He somberly chuckles at your joke before going silent. He did miss you but he never viewed you two as exclusive. He thought it was just a lovebombing filled fling, something to take his and your mind off of the bullshit in your lives. But to you, due to the lovebombing on his side, you thought it was forever. You told your friends, your mom, everybody you could that he was the one. So when he ghosted you after months of obsessing over one another, it shook you. The album didn't help either but you didn't wanna tell him that. Not at this moment anyway. He moves his body to look up at you in the cutest most Matty way possible.

"My baby..." he sighs out as his eyes flutter shut.

You chuckle, "Hm?".

"I wan' to kiss my baby" he mumbles out.

You sigh. "Shut up, Matty...don't make this worse for us"

He gets up from your lap, looking at you in your eyes before softly pressing his lips against yours as his hand snakes up your jawline. Your hand, almost in muscle memory, goes under the hem of his dress shirt, holding his warm tattooed skin.

"Is this what you want?" he moans between kisses

You nod. If anything, this was what you needed.

[trampstampbrbie]

The Right to Serve

'A tale in which Bucky Barnes was the best service top you could ever ask for.'

dom!fem x sub!bucky (4.6k words) tags: bdsm, one shot, minors dni, blindfolds, praise, training summary: as a professional dom, you never thought you'd have to work this hard to train a sub. but he was new and, oh, he was so delicious when he begged nice...

masterlist

You told him to kneel for you. You told him to get on his pathetic knees and crawl towards you on all fours, like some filthy mutt.

It must’ve been his first time; his cheeks were too red and it seemed there was no way in hell that he’d make eye contact with you any time soon. The other men you’ve had were all good; shiny eyes and eager souls. They were obedient without lip, without guidance, and without embarrassment.

Bucky on the other hand, was going to need a bit of work.

You should’ve known from his profile that he was new to it all, this lifestyle. His bio was weird, like someone’s grandpa was typing for them; perfect grammar, but strange wording and a lack of any sort of emoticons. He seemed from a different time. Weird, but you sure did love the way he looked; long hair tied into a loose ponytail with a tight shirt and some low pants. You were hungry to break him in.

“You ever take orders from a woman before?” you asked, bare against the leather armchair in your study, watching him move towards you.

“No,” he mumbled, stopping at your parted ankles.

“Oh? No, what?” you coo, frowning and trying to glimpse at him through low lashes.

“No… miss.”

You watched as he awkwardly knelt, gloved fingers fumbling through one another.

That was his one and only request of you: that he kept his shirt and gloves on. It was okay with you. Some of your clients had their icks and quirks and you were more than open with making them comfortable in this environment. However, there was a selfish part of you that so badly wanted to know what lay underneath; the curves and bulges were clear to see through the material of Bucky’s clothes. He was huge.

You had an agreement that this first meeting wouldn’t be as intense, just something to introduce him to the sort of mindset he should have, and to see what you both liked. He mentioned that he enjoyed giving head.

It was obvious, too. From the minute you peeled yourself from the dress you were once wearing, his icy gaze had been eagerly glancing at your mound from time to time. You chuckled, seeing him do it once more up close, licking his lips.

“You want a taste?” you grinned and watched him somehow flush deeper. He nodded.

Not much of a talker.

His mouth twitched while lowering his head, and before he could even get started, your palm slid along his forehead to yank back that smug look at the roots.

Teeth slightly gritted, you sat up and pulled him just the same.

“What a shit eating grin you’re wearing…” you frowned at him, “...like you deserve this–do you think you deserve to eat my pussy?”

He was groaned.

“That’s right, you don’t. And I’m letting you do it anyway, what do you say?” you let go of his hair and laid back down, shuffling your legs a bit wider for him against the leather.

“T-Thank you,” Bucky’s voice barely broke a whisper, gaze still at your lips.

“What was that?” you were quick to follow, throwing a leg over the side and revealing yourself to him further. He nearly drooled at the sight.

“Thank you, miss.”

“That’s right. Remember your manners,” you nodded and soothed the hair you had just abused.

Bucky sat up and leaned a bit into your touch, lashes fluttering and a held breath finally escaping from his chest.

Your nails began to massage his head, loosening the ponytail even more and allowing for some shorter strands to fall in front of his face. Another small, yet louder hum of appreciation left Bucky’s throat.

“Now this time, you’re going to ask permission, right?” your mocking tone didn’t pair well with how you gently stroked his jaw. Your voice was mean–bullying even, but your touch was maternal.

Bucky finally made eye contact with you and you were filled with lustful ardor.

His eyes were seaglass, framed with the longest and prettiest lashes you’d ever seen on a man. His hair was like a fresh brew of coffee; so deep and dark and soft to the touch. Your lips fell in awe at how beautiful he was. Bucky probably looked so pretty when he was riddled with tears and--

“I–I don’t” Bucky finally fumbled over his words and you lost his gaze.

“Let me help you,” You planted both feet back on the floor and leaned forward, capturing his face in both hands.Your tongue pressed against your molars to suppress a smile, finding it cute that he looked so feeble beneath you. A six-foot tall man, so small and helpless in front of your much tinier frame. You let the smile grow.

“Please let me taste that pussy, miss,” you pouted and mocked how all of your other clients would speak to you. Bucky’s throat bobbed, watching your lips with each syllable. His own pink flesh was licked over and parted.

“P-Please,” he stuttered and your mouth opened in a small sigh, nodding and encouraging him to go on.

Bucky was a mess, cheeks prickled with embarrassment, eyes glistening and threatening to shower with overwhelm. You comforted the side of his face, nodding once more.

“Please let me taste that–that pussy,” the words were a tangled mess–rough and quick and although you held the man’s head up, his lashes walled off his gaze as it returned to the carpet below.

“No, no,” you frowned in disappointment.

You could see the way his large frame tensed up while you shifted to get closer to him, both hands now anchored on his shoulders, rubbing soothing circles with your thumbs. Normally, you’d have no issue with an immediate teaching and discipline, but Bucky looked almost sad with himself. Sad that he couldn’t follow these simple commands. Pleasure and enjoyment were all you wanted as an outcome in relationships like this. He needed to relax.

“Switch spots with me, pet.”

His deep gaze flashed up to you as you stood, not gaining much more height in comparison to him on the floor. You smiled and gestured to the chair, a flat hand now at his back, giving him a gentle push.

Bucky took up much more of the leather armchair than you had. His thick thighs fell off the side and his hard shoulders completely swallowed the mahogany material. Bucky was strained within the confines of his jeans–so hard already and you had only just begun.

Your legs slipped past one another as you circled the furniture, eager yourself to just sit right on his lap.

“I want you to relax,” your tone softened, sauntering once more around Bucky.

Once you came back around to face one another, you tucked a stray piece of hair behind his ear.

Bucky watched you, as always. It was something else you noticed about him. Those eyes would pierce you and just study, like you were a piece at a museum. They were trained too, or maybe hesitant? Worried? Though he might’ve not made eye contact with you prior, he always paid close attention to your movements. Always knew where you were and what you were grabbing. Perhaps that’s why he was so tense…

“And most importantly, I want you to trust me,” you now assumed the kneeling position that Bucky was once in. Fingers splayed over his thighs, you rubbed them affectionately. He felt as hard as metal.

Bucky chewed his lip at your word and flinched at the end. It took him a second, but he finally nodded at you.

From the small coffee table to your right, there was a display of all your tools. Some plugs, vibrators, some rope and cuffs. A pink, satin ribbon is what you picked from the lot. You reassured him that you wouldn’t use any of that other stuff today.

You opened his palm and let the soft material flow over his skin, letting him feel how gentle it was.

“Are you okay with me blindfolding you?”

Patterns were traced onto his thigh by you as you asked for his permission.

Bucky’s chest puffed far with a deep intake of breath, looking over the small ribbon in his lap.

“Yeah–yes. Yes, miss.”

A small, delighted hum met his words, and you squeezed the flesh of his legs in agreement.

“I can take it off at any time, okay? Do you remember the word you chose?”

Awaiting for him to recall, you rounded to the back of the armchair, hands gathering his hair off of the back of his neck. You tied his locks into a neater ponytail and let the satin sit at his collarbone.

“Winter.”

You placed an encouraging kiss to his temple from behind before pulling the ribbon up and over his eyes.

“Good,” the material was tightened into a bow at the back of his head and he gave a short nod when you asked if he was comfortable.

“Thank you, miss.”

So he was learning.

“Good boy,” you breathe and the lump in his pants shifted at your words.

The leather squeaked a bit as you attempted to straddle Bucky’s lap, but found that there’d be little to no room for you unless he pinched his knees together.

“Now I have one rule for this: no touching unless I give you permission, do you hear me?”

Bucky, now squished in the chair, arms gripping the sides, nodded eagerly.

He was quick to fix the silence–leaving a poor ‘yes miss’ mumbling its way through pink lips. His breathing had grown louder at your weight pressing on him.

You caressed his face, fingers grazing the stubble that poked from his jaw and chin. A hum left your mouth as it traced along his ear, some red lip gloss trailing in its wake.

Finally, you kissed Bucky’s skin, right where his neck met his shoulder and he was shuttering–fully taken over and whimpering and panting like the little impatient whore he was. You place one more at his jaw, then his cheek until finally–finally you lace both of your mouths together.

He tasted earthy and bitter–like he had the strongest coffee in the world right before he came here. You watched as he licked his lips once you pulled away.

“Fuck,” Bucky exhaled, bottom lip trembling.

You heard the leather of the chair crunch underneath his iron grip.

Lost in your own pleasure, you pulled him back in for another kiss. However this time, your tongue peeked out, running along his bottom lip to deepen the kiss. Naturally, your hips grinded down into him.

But before you let him get too comfortable and knowing, you stepped back, away from him. His chest jumped with a stuttered breath.

You stood there and watched him for a moment, strained against his pants and sweating through his shirt. His fingers twitched and shifted over the arms of the chair, waiting with something stuck in his unmoving throat.

Once more, you assume the position in front of him: on your knees and in between his legs. But you didn't let him know that. You didn’t allow your hands on his thighs as a signal. You had him sit there, untouched and lost.

The noise that left him once you finally thrummed your fingers along his stiffened mound was gorgeous. It was a whine–choked and paired with a sniffle. You wondered if his eyes were all red.

The belt and button to his pants were easy enough to maneuver open, but there was a small struggle in getting him to lift his hips. They got caught on the curve of his ass.

"Take these off," you breathed and shuffled back, so he wouldn't feel where you were once he stood. And boy did he rocket up and out of that seat.

Bucky fumbled a bit with where to grab at the material, but eventually kicked off the denim.

"Good boy."

"Thank you, miss."

He was still panting and the slick between your legs had only grown and spread further down your thighs. You took a moment to swipe two fingers between your folds.

You moaned softly and Bucky's hips notably flinched upwards.

Your hands found his thighs once more–naked and covered with thick, dark hair. You raked your hands up and down them–groping his well trained muscles in awe.

"Now take your cock out," you hummed, words sounding sarcastic–like he should've known to do that.

His cheeks flushed behind the ribbon as he uttered out another, "Yes, miss.".

Bucky was more than you imagined–thick and long, red and purple all over with the most beautiful glisten of precum already running down his length.

Your mouth watered and you couldn't help the way your nails dug into his thighs, running down ratherly harshly as you let out a small pant.

Bucky's knees tried their best to knock together, but your torso just got in the way, letting your body be squeezed by his legs in the process. Fuck, he was strong.

"S-Sorry, miss," he says, taking his entire bottom lip into his mouth in embarrassment. You shushed him and soothed the skin you had just engraved.

Your hand doesn't take kindness in gripping his cock at its base–which was sticky and warm from its confines. He bucks gently against you and lets out another, beautiful whine.

One pump from your small hand sent him sliding his hips towards you, eager for more. You merely raised your other hand and whacked his cock along its head.

Bucky lets a drawled, "Fuck," at your punishment–falling back against the chair in defeat.

"You're trying to get off without my permission?" you asked, a brow raised to pair with your insinuating tone.

He frantically shakes his head.

"That's what it looked like to me," you squeeze him tightly–but briefly, enticing another whimper from him.

"I-I'm sorry, miss. I'm so sorry."

You purse your lips together, before giving the tip another quick slap–not as harsh this time.

"Don't let it happen again."

He nodded quickly at your warning words, now white knuckling the furniture he sat in.

Your hand lets up and was now gentle around him–stroking slowly and short along his length. Bucky visibly relaxes against the leather, arms falling soft along the arms of the chair. His moans become more frequent–more erotic and the color of his cock flushes along with it.

The pace quickens and your hand moves to cover his whole length, squeezing a bit more at the base and driving him to chase that light that seems to be approaching closer and closer.

Bucky results in a blubbering mess–begging and huffing words like "Oh, please," and "Yes," and your personal favorite, "Fuck you're so good,".

But once you got the indication that he was ready to cum–and so willingly, too. His tanned skin was flushed all the way up–covering the thick veins that poked through his neck, his knees were jittery and his entire person was gleaming with dew. You stopped. You stopped right when he was stuttering the way you became so familiar with, when it came to men. The frantic strokes stopped, the pressure and pleasure stopped and you completely–utterly fucked up his orgasm, tightening the hold around the base of him.

The whole length wobbled, twitched and grew even more flushed. You left him stuttering and confused, pulling back off of him completely to watch his reaction.

"W-Why? Why did you do that?"

You could've sworn he was about to pout. Bucky's chest still chased for air and his thighs quivered with an absent orgasm.

"You never asked if you could cum," you breathe–and it was a simple answer, too. He needed to learn.

"B-But I–"

"–No "but"'s. You know the rules and you know that you should have manners," both of your hands come to rest against your own legs–albeit a bit sore from kneeling for all that time.

You watched as his cock relaxed against his stomach–nearly reaching his belly button, before softening back to a relaxed state.

"Plus," you stand on shaky legs to place a hand over one of his own. "I've been waiting for far too long."

His lips part–like he had something to retaliate with, but you had your own to beat him.

"Up."

Bucky stands from the chair, with legs much weaker than they appeared. He nearly collapsed to his knees once you told him to do so–before removing his boxers (like you also had asked).

You slouched in the chair, slick pussy only a mere inches from his face. He could smell it, too. His nostrils flared and he, once more, licked his lips.

"C'mon," your hand danced to the back of his head, anchoring in at the locks–you waited to see if he'd ask. And boy, did he do it so pretty.

"Can I taste you, miss? Please?" Bucky's voice was so pathetic. So quiet and wanting, like he'd die if it didn't happen.

"Aw," you mocked him and frowned playfully at his expression. "Yes, you may," you finally gave in.

Bucky leans forward, blindly, and paused right at your lips.

"Go on," you coo, seeing his hesitation.

When his lips attach to your own, below, your eyes nearly roll out of your head. That pink mouth felt so good as it just barely–amazingly, suctioned onto your clit.

He pulled back with a small pop. The ghost of a smirk played at the corner of his mouth.

Bucky leaned forward once more, tongue moving up and down your slit, tasting all that had been wanting him from the minute he stepped into your home. Small circles and torturous strokes were pressed against your most sensitive bud–which was flinching and trembling on its own.

You wouldn't hide how good he made you feel. You wanted him to know he was doing a good job.

For a while, you retreated your gaze to the carved, wooden ceiling of your study–moaning and mewling with each lap and suck from Bucky's beautiful mouth.

You were lost; stuck in the clouds of pleasure and the endless river of wanting to just come all over Bucky's face.

His hand at your thigh is what pulled you from this dream-like trance you were in.

Yours flew down onto the back of his, smacking it.

"What did I say?" you grit, watching as his mouth fell open.

"No touching unless you give permission."

Boy, did he sound defeated, nearly letting his head fall in just the same fashion. Both of your hands soothe the one you had hit, bringing it back to your thigh. It felt just too damn good to keep his touch at bay.

"Lemme hear you ask nicely, Bucky."

"Please, miss. Can I touch you?" you found that his lips were trembling once more–pulled down and flushed a shade that nearly looked fuschia.

"You may."

And he was back again–this time, with more fervour.

Bucky's leather-bound hands were at your thighs, holding them open so gently–not pushing them any further than you had originally opened them. His mouth was hungry–kissing your soaked pussy and licking it like it was your pretty face that had done the same to him, prior. He was fucking good at it, too. He knew exactly what he was doing and never had you been brought so close to edge, so fast before.

He placed one of your legs over his shoulder as he was pressed so close against you–that his nose was buried within your folds.

You were a shaking mess against the chair, chanting his name, curses, and just the most pleasured nonsense that you could ever think of.

You looked down to see that the ribbon was coming loose. It drooped down from one eye, but you were so surprised to see that his eye was closed. He wasn't peeking.

"Bucky," you mewled, trying your best in an awkward position to grind against his lips.

Both of his arms flew around you, landing at your torso. He pulled you in closer and began his attack directly at your clit. He wanted you to cum.

For a moment, his lashes fluttered, but you were far too gone to even care if he looked at this point.

Your legs were jelly, your stomach was tense and your pussy–well, it was pulsing and clenching and wanted nothing but to turn Bucky's face into an utter mess.

When you fell, you fell into your orgasm hard. Repetitions of "fuck" and "shit" filled the air–feeling so good, that your body naturally was trying to get away from it. Your fingers dug into the chair, trying to push itself from Bucky, but he knew to keep you grounded. His grip on you hardened, slowly flattening his tongue to hold against you as you rode it out.

He pulled back with a grin that you were happy he didn't hide. Crooked, wet, and triumphant.

Despite being slightly taken from breath, you let out a small giggle and shakily cupped his cheek.

"Good… good…"

You couldn't even form any further compliment or praise, for that was the best skyrocket into an orgasm that you had in a long ass time.

It took an extra moment, but you eventually sat up and rid Bucky of his blindfold.

You met one another wanton, blushed and eager to touch one another in any way that you could.

The two of you crashed into a heated kiss, groping at one another as he slowly stood–laying you back on the chair.

"Please, please…" Bucky's hair fell into random swirls at your breast, while his sticky forehead lay at your sternum.

"...Please let me fuck you, please," he whispered it over and over again, gripping your waist so tight that it almost hurt.

You were overwhelmed, nodding and moving his hands so you could sit up to kneel on the armchair with your back facing him.

He looked at you with twinkling eyes and hesitant hands–like there was a pot of gold before him that he didn't know what to do with.

"Go on," your voice was liquid fire in his veins, causing a redness to spread over his upper half.

Between his legs, his length had grown and pulsed back to its wanting state. Red, swollen, dripping.

Wanting.

One long arm passed you, his fingers gripping the back of the chair.

"Fuck me, Bucky," you slur, arching your back and wiggling your hips.

You felt his free hand grab your hip, pressure points where his fingertips would be. The leather was hot against your skin.

And when he eased into you, you melted. He pressed his way within you and didn't stop until his hips met your ass–and to that, he squeezed the flashy mound before shortly thrusting as a test.

You were moaning and arching more, pushing back against him and wanting him as deep as he'd go.

The leather before you creaked as he began to fuck you from behind–grunting and whining like this was hurting him.

Was it?

You turned around to see his blue eyes now darkened–zeroing in on you and your figure from behind like a meal. His mouth however, bitten against his lips with cheeks so harshly red, it looked like he had been burned from the sun.

Those cheeks. They were stained and streaked with tears. Getting hard so quick after denial hurt. You knew that. And to hear how it hurt, made you moan and mewl even more.

"Yeah?" you breathe, a sly grin tugging at your lips.

"Hurts so good, doesn't it?"

He frowned and nodded slowly, picking up the pace in which his hips slapped against you.

He groaned longingly.

"Maybe I'll let you cum this time," you say and Bucky stutters.

You laugh and fuck back against his cock as he takes a second to stop.

"Don't you dare fucking stop," you pant, throwing another glance back at him before rolling your eyes in pure lust.

Bucky started again, thrusting into your hot and clenching walls–a complete and utter mess of filthy moans leaving his mouth.

His hand leaves the chair and now holds you instead, evening out the pressure at your hips.

You both roar in moans, sputters and screams of pleasure–harmonizing with how fast or slow Bucky would fuck you.

Bucky placed a foot on the chair, right next to your knee, and when you thought he couldn't rock into you any harder, or faster–he anchored into your shoulders and railed the soul from your body.

The collisions sent equally paced, hiccuping moans from you–clenching and wailing and becoming puddy, faced pressed against the back of the chair.

"Fuck, oh my god, fuck," he grunted, almost angry.

The intense heat wave coming from behind you, paired with his hips stopping against you for a brief period told you all that you needed to know.

Large, gloved hands came to grab around your neck, tilting your head all the way back to view Bucky upside down.

"You wanna cum?" you try your best to ask coherently, but the skin on skin noise was almost overbearing.

Bucky's upper lip curled up in a snarl–teeth gritted and deep growls leaving his throat, like he was fighting to breathe.

"Hm?" you smile, seeing his eyes roll and a big swallow bobbing at his throat.

"Yes-" Bucky grunts again, "Please," a few small droplets of spit sputter over your face as he speaks through his teeth.

"Please, please, please, please-"

You merely nodded your head, throwing another moan his way–completely incapable of giving him a wordy go ahead.

Bucky's hips became erratic and nearly too much stimulation for you.

Your legs were buzzing–mouth, pussy, arms, back. Everything.

You were ready for a release, too.

Just as you reached yours–choking back your screams of its arrival, Bucky pulled out of you.

Long, exhaling groans left him and you felt hotness paint your ass.

You squatted in your spot and let it jet across your back as well.

Bucky curses in the smallest of breaths, leaning forward and kissing your shoulder with a brief, "Thank you," that absolutely did not go unnoticed.

You sat there, cheek pressed against the back of your chair, still panting. A blind arm flies behind you, reaching and searching for Bucky. But he was nowhere to be found.

Just as you were able to collect yourself, you felt another damp thing touch your skin. It was a cloth. Bucky had gone and wetted a towel to clean up after himself. Something you did not expect.

"Oh, I can do that after-" you go to protest and instead, feel a soothing hand at your back.

"You take care of me so, let me take care of you." His words were husky, dark, and quiet, but the smile at his lips was kind and gentle.

"Thank you," you hum and let him finish.

The two of you settled down and caught your breath before retiring to a much more comfortable couch across the room. Bucky's eyes were studying the floor, as always.

And that's all you knew for now. And for the most part, that was your relationship with Bucky for a while–quiet, intimate and knowing without saying much. You just knew that Bucky Barnes… was the best damn service top you'd ever had.

[pensat-i-fet]

From one wedding... (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Naturally, after seeing Rúben at Bernardo's wedding, I got some requests to do a wedding related imagine. The person who requested here on Tumblr was @mountsgirl​ and I think I managed to do the request as close to what was requested as possible. I already had another wedding imagine from a couple of months ago and my aim was to make them different enough that you wouldn't feel you're just reading the same thing twice. Also, the title is explained in the imagine. Enjoy!! ❤️**

Word count: 1866

Masterlist

Wattpad

“Tomorrow is the big day”.

“You say it as if it was us getting married and not your friends”, you laughed, falling on the bed and wincing.

“What’s wrong?”

“My back still hurts. I knew we should have taken the sunscreen bottle to that cave expedition you wanted us to do”.

“Let me see”.

You took your shirt off so Rúben could see your back and flinched a little when he touched the still sensitive area.

“It looks much better. You can barely tell it’s red anymore”.

“Really?”

“Want me to put some more cream on it?”

You nodded, thankful for his help. Your dress for the wedding showed half of your back and the last thing you wanted was for everyone to see a big ugly sunburn.

“That feels nice”, you said, closing your eyes and enjoying the cooling effect of the cream and the way Rúben’s hand massaged your skin.

“Done”, he said, kissing the back of your neck.

“Thank you! Let’s go to bed now. Long day tomorrow but I can’t wait to see you wearing a suit”.

“I was wearing one the day we met”.

“And that’s how you tricked me into dating you”, you joked, pecking his lips and going to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Rúben stared at you and then kept staring at the closed door. He had been feeling some type of way lately, and the wedding you were about to attend only made that feeling bigger. But he shook his head and got those ideas out of his head. It was too soon.

                                          **

Between the slight jet lag you had from your time in America and how early you had to wake up, you began the day already exhausted. Your eyes kept closing and you tried your hardest to stay awake.

“That coffee isn’t helping”.

“Don’t mock me, Rúben. I’m so tired”.

“Yeah, me too. Maybe we could sleep a little. I think we have another hour until we get there”.

“Can’t”, you groaned.

“Why?”

You and Rúben had never been on a long car trip together so he didn’t know. “I get travel sick when I’m on long drives like this one. But it’s better if I don’t sleep. Don’t ask me why”, you shrugged. “It’s how it works”.

“Well, we can’t have that. Is there anything that helps?”

“Funnily enough, looking outside of the car. Apparently, I get sick because I’m moving but I’m also not moving so my brain doesn’t understand what’s going on. And so seeing the outside moving helps. I don’t know, I read that in an article once”.

“You and your I read that in an article once”, he laughed and you hit him in the chest, making him laugh harder.

Once he was done laughing, Rúben moved to sit in the middle of the back seat to be closer to you. He turned you slightly so you could still look outside of the window and he could bring you closer to him to hug you.

“Let’s talk about what we see. Concentrate on that”.

Smiling, you did just that and started to describe the mountains and the little houses you saw sometimes. Not only did it help you not feel bad, but it also made the whole trip go by so much quicker.

“We are here. Let’s find our room”.

Rúben took your hand and a couple of minutes later, you were in your room. You placed your dress on the bed, carefully, and started to unpack all the things you needed to get ready.

“I’m going to need your help, Dias. Don’t get too comfortable”.

“With what? I can’t do your make-up. I mean, I can. But you don’t want me to”.

“Just with little things in general. Please”.

“No need to use puppy eyes. I was going to help you anyways”.

While he was helping you get ready, Rúben couldn’t help but go back to those thoughts he had been having lately. You looked so adorable wearing one of his old shirts and moving around the room getting all the things you needed.

“Last one, please”, you said and he gave you another roller to put on your head. “Rate how sexy I look from 1 to 10”.

“80”.

“Wait until I put the black face mask on. It’ll be a 100!”

“Can I have a kiss first?”

You leaned down to kiss Rúben before running to the bathroom again to put on your mask. The smile on your face couldn’t be bigger and his was matching yours.

"So you had the rollers on but now have to curl the hair anyways. It doesn’t make sense”.

“It actually does, hence why I did it like this”.

“If you say so…what else can I do?”

“Why don’t you start getting ready?”

“I don’t take as long as you. I’m fine”.

You moved the curling iron away from your face to laugh properly. “You don’t take long to get ready…right”.

“So funny! But I mean today. I just have to put the suit on and brush my hair”.

“Can I brush your hair? Please!!”

“Sure”, now it was his turn to laugh.

Once your hair and make-up were done, you and Rúben started to get dressed. You kept trying to look in the mirror to see how red your back looked and Rúben noticed.

“It’s fine. Not red at all. Does it hurt?”

“Not really. Can you take a photo so I see how it looks? I could always wear a jacket to cover the area, even if it would look terrible with this dress”.

He took the photo and showed it to you. And you were so relieved to see the skin was back to a normal colour. It still hurt a bit but no one would know.

“Do you like the dress?”, you asked, spinning around the room.

“I love it. And the colour looks great on you”.

“Thank you. I liked it better in white but obviously had to go for this shade instead”.

“White?”, now Rúben’s mind went back to those feelings that wouldn’t leave. “I wanted to see you wearing the white dress”, he said, almost to himself.

“I can’t wear white to someone else’s wedding”, you laughed, not understanding his comments.

“Of course”.

“Give me the brush now. I want to play with that gorgeous fluffy hair you have”.

Sitting down on the bed, you positioned yourself in between his legs and started to brush his hair gently.

"Ready!", you winked. And you both made your way to the ceremony.

                                       **

The wedding venue was so stunning you had to remind yourself that you should be looking at the ceremony and not at your surroundings. Rúben noticed and he put his arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer to him so he could whisper.

“We’ll come back here another time so you can see the area better, ok?”

You nodded, smiling. You were having the same idea at the moment. And even if Rúben didn’t know, other ideas he had were also reciprocated by you. But you weren't going to tell him.

Everyone gathered around the newlyweds to congratulate them and take photos. And when it was your turn, Rúben gave Bernardo a little “friendly” push. Bernardo looked as shocked as he always did when Rúben hit him, even if he should be used to it by now, and moved to hide behind his now wife.

"You can't be violent near a pregnant woman".

"Rúben, I told you your wedding gift was not hitting poor Bernardo", you said, slapping his arm.

"But it's fun".

"Psycho", said you and Bernardo at the same time, making Ines laugh.

More photos were taken, some with you in them but most of them with just Rúben and his teammates. You didn’t mind, not really enjoying being seen much on social media. But you did check the photos other people were taking and noticed one of Rúben’s friends added an interesting caption.

“Look”, you said to him, showing him the photo.

“What is it?”

“The caption”.

He read it and when he got to the end, he looked at you quickly. Why were you showing him that?

“Who’s next? Well, Ines didn’t throw her bouquet to the guests so we don’t know”, he laughed uncomfortably.

“You know? There is a saying in Spanish that says “de una boda sale otra”, which is like from one wedding we get another one. The caption reminded me of that”.

“Would you like it if there was another wedding soon?”

You looked up at him, trying to understand the meaning behind that question but he looked away. “I guess. It’s fun to attend them. And I get to see you wearing a suit”.

“It’s fun, yeah”, you wanted to say something to him but he spoke first. “They look so in love”.

You nodded and hugged Rúben’s arm before putting your head on his shoulder. “I like to think that’s how we look when people look at us”.

He kissed your head and kept looking at the band that was playing music, enjoying the moment. And also hoping that you both looked like that when people looked at you.

After a few hours of dancing and chatting with all the other guests, it was time to go back to the room.

“The gifts they got for the guests are so adorable. I even got pyjamas to wear while we’re here with my initials on them. You know how I love those silly details”.

“I didn’t get any pyjamas”.

“You’ll have to sleep naked then, Rúben. Terrible news but what else can we do?”

Rúben slapped your bum when you walked towards the bathroom but there were no more playful looks when you got out, wearing the white pyjamas Ines had picked for the female guests. They looked like something the bride would wear. It was a little inside joke she found funny and so did you. For Rúben…it only made those feelings harder to contain.

“Have you seen a ghost?”, you asked, walking to stand in between his legs while he just stared at you. “Or are you going to be super corny and say you saw an angel?”, you laughed.

“Marry me”.

“What?”

“I’m stupid”, he said, standing and moving away from you.

“Why would you be stupid?”

“I’ve been thinking about proposing for months now. And thinking about all the big gestures I could do because you deserve that. And now I just let these feelings I’ve had all weekend take over and just ask you like that…and I shouldn’t even ask you. We haven’t been dating for that long. I don’t want to scare you away. But…”.

“Stop talking”, you said, standing now in front of him and placing your index finger on his lips. “I’ve been having the same feelings, or thoughts, whatever you want to call them. But I didn’t want to scare you”.

“Really?”

You nodded. “And I don’t need gestures or you getting down on one knee or whatever. I just need you to really mean it when you say you want to marry me. So…do you really mean it?”

“I do”.

“Then let’s do it!��

[lokiforever]

🖤 Love in the Dark 🖤

•Intro

•Series Masterlist

Mafia! Loki x Fem! Reader

Chapter 1

➡️

The Girl He Saved

As he cut the phone he was in a great hurry and was practically fuming. "What's wrong?" you mused "It's none of your concern" he blankly said and stood up "Your arm- the stitches are not as necessary but you must disinfect it" "It'll be fine" "But-" "I. SAID. It. Will. Be. Fine" he firmly answered and left the room before stopping to say "Issac will show you the room. Eat something."

Once he was off to God knows where the same guy from earlier entered the room. He showed you your room and gave you dinner.

After having dinner you took a shower and changed into what seemed to be Loki's t-shirt, it was already placed on the bed when you entered the room and hell, it was so comfortable.

The sleep you had that night seemed to be the best you had in a month. That was untill you woke up in the middle of the night because of the nightmares. Now, those are the side effects of being kept hostage.

You were panting heavily, a thin layer of sweat covered your body and your throat was drier than the desert. Checking the time, you noticed that it was 3am. You got up from the bed to fetch some water for yourself for which you had to go downstairs....

As you took your glass of water from the kitchen, you heard the main door opening. You grabbed the nearest object for your defence which was a spatula and stood in a defensive stance. As the door opened you were relieved to see that it was Loki.

The sleeves of his black shirt were rolled up, a few top buttons undone. His hair were tied up in a loose man bun , some stary inky black tendrils coming in perfect contrast of the porcelain skin of his face. He looked Godly as the dim light caressed his face.

He walked towards the kitchen as he heard the shuffling noise and found you there instead. He let out a small chuckle "Were you planning to hit me with that spatula?" Your face immediately turned beet red "I uhh... i didn't know it's you.... it's freaking 3 in the morning." "And pray tell what were you doing at 'freaking 3 in the morning' ?"

"I...I came to get water" you felt his eyes run up and down your frame and that was when you realised that you were literally standing there in his t-shirt. Just his t-shirt. Sure it was long enough to cover but still....

"My clothes suit you quite well, darling" he said with a smirk. This caused you to turn even redder...if that was possible. "Did you eat dinner?" you asked changing the topic. There was a flicker of surprise on his face before he masked it "I- no. No, I didn't" he said

"Seriously? Wait, I'll make something for you. What do you want to have?" you asked him. "It's fine, I'm not hungry" he said "No it's not. What was the last meal you had and when?" "Uhh..I had lunch at....1" he answered.

You raised your brows "Do you even realise how wrong it is to go hours without meals? And it's been more than 12 hrs since your last meal.".....no response. "Now you sit here, I'm bringing you something to eat. Yes or yes?" he playfully rolled his eyes and said "Ok, ok, fine" putting his hands up in mock defence.

You made him some grilled cheese with tomato soup and served him on the dining table. "Loki... it's ready" you called him cuz he was not there, he said he was going to take a bath before you started cooking.....so now he must have finished.......

Your thoughts were stopped midway as you saw him coming downstairs without much clothes.....all he was wearing was a pair of sweatpants. His black curls were dripping from the shower as the water droplets grazed his strong, muscular body.

"I'm here, darling" he said in his unfairly arousing, spicy, delicious, sexy, hot, amazing voice.

"Have a seat, your meal's ready." you said with a smile. He graciously sat on one of the chairs of the dining table. "What about you? Are you not joining me, darling?" said he "I already had dinner" you replied "Oh, come on. Join me." he said "Loki-" "No, you're joining me. Now." he said in a tone which didn't leave much to argue.

So, you took a seat beside him. "How's your arm?" "It's fine" "Did you disinfect it?" "Uhh....." "You didn't, did you? Where's the medical kit?" you asked him. "I don't remember exactly...uhh..- no - wait, it's in my bathroom, in the top right shelf"

"You eat your food, I'll bring it"

As he yook the first bite, a moan of satisfaction slipped his lips.

"Mmm, this is scrumptious, Y/N! It's the best I've ever had on midg- Earth. It's wonderful." he heartfelt words made you blush "Thank you so much, Loki. I'm glad you like it" " 'Like' is an understatement, darling. I love it" you thanked him and smiled.

"I'll just go and bring the medical kit" you stood up and went towards his room, upstairs. "There's one in the guest room too" he called after you, so you chose to bring the one from the guest room.

After getting the kit you went back to where Loki was. "You can eat, it's on your left arm so it won't bother if I disinfect it even while you're eating." "Ok" he extended his arm towards you and you started disinfecting it.

Once it was done you dressed the wound. You looked at him after it was all done only to find him looking at you intently "What?" you asked "Nothing" he said averting gis gaze back to his plate. "It's done" you said referring to the now dressed wound. He gave you a little nod "Thanks" he said.

By now it was 5 am and your sleep was long gone. "Are you going to sleep?" you asked as Loki stood up "Yes, I am. Are you?" "Uhh ....no, I'm not sleepy anymore" "What will you do, then?" "I dunno" "You can go to the library or watch some movies if you want. The library is upstairs" "Sure, thanks"

You went to the library after he went to bed.

"Issac will show you the room. Eat something"

Sitting in the car he dialled a number "Handle him. I'll be there in a moment. He better not escape, for if he does, I swear I'll kill you"

In less than ten minutes, he reached the spot and barged inside, banging the doors open. He was fuming. "Master- " one of his men started but he stopped him and strode straight towards the captive .

"You thought you would spy on me and I wouldn't know? How mudane" he chuckled darkly. He took out a dagger and placed it on the boy's throat "Now, you have two options: tell me everything I ask or die" he said pressing the dagger closer .

"I-I w-w-will tell you . Please spare my life. Please. I will tell you whatever you ask" the boy meekly said, trembling with fear. "Wise decision, agent"

"You will tell me everything about you master. Every .Fucking .Thing."

~°~

Loki's POV

(time: when you were dressing his wound)

I knew she is trouble. I knew it when I saw her in nothing but my t-shirt. I knew it when I sensed the care and concern in her voice. I knew it.

Her nimble fingers tended to my wound so gently. She looked so determined, so concentrated. When I first saw her I didn't know why I did what I did. I didn't know why I brought her here. I didn't know why I seemed to.......care...for her .....no, this is not normal. She's just a stranger. I should not let these things cloud my judgement. Not again.

"What?"

(Three days in)

In these three days you got to know a little about Loki. He didn't talk much. Only when necessary. He completely avoided any sort of physical contact and remained either outside the house or in his room. He didn't seem overly friendly but he had a good heart. You knew it deep down.

Today, as you both were on the breakfast table he got a call. He saw the contact name and exited the room while you ate your breakfast.

"Mr. Laufeyson, that girl, Y/N......" the man on the phone said .

"What about her, Barnes?"

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

Taglist:

@holdmytesseract @lokisgoodgirl @jennyggggrrr @lotsoflokilove23 @jaidenhawke @wolvesmom1 @gruftiela@mary-jinx@mischief-dream@ladychota @dishahaldar @eleniblue

Please let me know if someone wants to be added the taglist🖤💚

[sanjithesimp]

♡bite me (pt.1 )ft. jeon jungkook & min yoongi♡

a/n: i couldn’t stop thinking about this idea so i had to write it right away. though i will be dividing it into two parts hehe

warnings: nsfw (minors DNI).fem reader. pwp (porn with very little plot). unprotected sex. fingering. rough sex (kinda). nipple play. degradation kink. praise kink.

summary: some horny thoughts i had.

playlist to listen to while reading this fic

he had always been very quiet but always nice to you. you had become somewhat very close, living all together in the house they have bought after they debuted. he was like a big brother for your boyfriend, they shared everything; yoongi took care of him, taught him a lot of things. jungkook always looked up to him. but now you weren’t so sure, you had made a mistake and this would change jungkook forever…you were doing everything possible to make sure he would never know about what happened that weekend when he was away for a photoshoot.

you had cheated on your boyfriend. it was a hot afternoon, yoongi and you were the alone in the house. a total mistake. he was nice to you, and he would give you advice whenever you needed it. you never imagined something would happen between the two of you.

“bored?” he asked, suddenly startling you. he smirked, something about his smile was

“a little bit, yeah” you admitted.

“want to play a game or something?” he suggested, it was kind of weird coming from him but you had nothing better to do. so you ignored it and followed him.

he was fond of playing cards, you never understood what was so fun about it. but you were going to give it a try. he offered you something to drink, and was surprised when you answered that you wanted exactly what he was drinking.

“didn’t think you would like whisky?” he said as he poured the golden brown drink in an old fashioned glass with a few of slices of lime and a couple of ice cubes.

as the hours passed, you kept on playing and drinking. things started to get more serious, but at the same time you both had loosened up, probably from all that drinking.

while yoongi poured some more whisky on his glass you watched him. you didn’t know what it was, maybe the alcohol but you seemed to think he was incredibly hot. you had never thought of him like that, he was like jungkook’s older brother. but his pink lips, his long raven black hair, his hands adorned with veins. it was almost driving you crazy so you had to look away before you started having more nonsense thoughts.

“what’s on your mind?” his voice made you jump.

“n-nothing, i just think i should stop drinking for now” suddenly feeling heat all over your body. “is it hot in here?” nervously going to open a few windows.

“i think you’re right, you should stop drinking” yoongi said laughing at your actions.

as the night went on, you kept on playing. things were starting to get weirdly flirty but you tried to ignore it, telling yourself that it was the whisky going straight into your brain and making you imagine things.

“should we make this more interesting?” yoongi asked, getting closer to you.

“how so?” you said, worrying about what he would say next.

“let’s play strip poker.” yoongi said so casually, as if he suggested to eat some ice cream.

“what? no, no, no…are you drunk?” he snickered at your last question.

“it’s just a game, or are you worried you will lose?” he dared you.

you dammed yourself for falling into his game. also you were wearing way less clothes than him.

“no of course not, i’m not a chicken.” you said, feeling confident.

but that was the last time you felt confident. even though yoongi had taken a few pieces of clothing you were the one who would wound up fully naked. it was just your boyfriends shirt and your panties still on you.

“i think we should stop” yoongi said without explaining, his face had changed.

“what, are you afraid you might lose?” you said mocking him.

“no, it’s just..getting late”he said as he started washing the dishes.

”i think you’re just afraid…” you whispered in his ear, teasing him again. he suddenly stopped and looked at you and without saying anything else pulled you in to kiss you. the taste of the strong whisky still on his lips.

you yelped as he placed his wet hands on your ass. you could feel the hunger in how he kissed you, the way he nipped at your skin. the way he moaned as you pressed your body closer to him.

“fuck-” yoongi said, feeling your hand palming his erection through his pants. he then guided you to your room, and then to your bed. the bed you and your boyfriend shared, you could still smell him on the bedsheets. this was all wrong, but you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t stop yourself, you wanted more.

yoongi slid his hands under jungkook’s shirt, his fingers ghosted over the lace of your panties. suddenly feeling an electric shock all through your spine. a moan escaped your mouth, suddenly making you feel embarrassed.

“are you that desperate to be touched, little whore?” he said, a smirk drawn across his face.

you nodded, not being able to formulate any coherent answer.

“i’m going to fuck you so that you never forget this” yoongi said, it was as if he was another person. you couldn’t believe the words he had just said.

he then ripped your panties off your body and discarded them somewhere in the room, you shivered feeling the cool air, your pussy already dripping wet, with desire to feel yoongi’s fingers. he teased you a bit more, his hands running up and down your thighs.

one of his hands went under your shirt, his fingers teased your cunt, he traced them up and down as he spread your juices all over your folds while the other hand fondled your breasts.

“fuck, i had never seen those.” yoongi said surprised that your nipples were pierced. he licked his lips at the sight of your hardened nipples decorated with the metallic hearts piercings you had chosen.

“do you like them?” you bit your lip, loving the way he was devouring you with his eyes.

“no…i love them” yoongi said and he took one of your tits with his free hand. he started licking it, his tongue making circles around your bud, and gently sucking on it. making you moan and whimper, you were sure you were just gonna cum by how he was sucking on your tits.

he introduced two of his fingers into your cunt, curling them to reach your g-spot. you could almost see stars as he kept on pumping them in and out of you, watching carefully what you liked the most by how your moans got louder whenever he sped up his movements.

“have you ever been like this for jungkook?” he said as he left a trail of kisses all the way from your chest to your neck “soaking wet, like a little whore”

you moaned his name, his thumb pressing on your clit. he was such an idiot for asking you something like that.

“answer…now” yoongi said, desperate to know the answer.

“n-no” you replied, loving the way he kept rubbing circles on your sensitive bud. you definitely didn’t want him to keep asking you questions about jungkook

“fuck me hard, yoongi…please” you begged him. right now you didn’t want to think about the terrible thing you were doing to your boyfriend.

“as you wish, princess” he said, pulling his fingers out of you and licking them clean, not leaving a single drop of your juices as he looked at you, his eyes filled with lust. you audibly gasped, thinking that was one of the hottest things you had ever seen.

you had imagined he was big, but not that big once he released his cock from the confinements of his boxers. it was painfully hard, his tip red and dripping with precum. you wanted to suck it clean but first you wanted him to fuck you senseless, until you could forget that this was so wrong yet it felt so right.

“you’re so big…i-” you started saying but he shushed you.

“i know you can, baby”yoongi said, lining his cock with your cunt, sliding it up and down, coating his dick with your juices.

you gripped the bedsheets until your knuckles were white as the sheets, every inch was getting less painful but you still weren’t sure you could take him all. once he bottomed out, you both moaned in pleasure, he could feel your velvety walls tighten around him, as you could feel his tip kissing your g-spot.

“see, i knew you could do it…such a good girl” he said as he started slowly sliding his cock out of you, leaving only the tip inside. you suddenly missed being full of his cock, but it didn’t took seconds before he thrusted back into you.

the lewd sounds filled the house as he rammed in and out of you, your loud moans and whines, his groans and moans, his balls slapping your ass, it was a sinful orchestra that you had both created. and you didn’t even care anymore if someone found you like this, under your boyfriend’s best friend, moaning and babbling nonsense as he fucked you hard on the matress that you and your boyfriend shared.

his thrusts were getting harder, you both getting close to your high. he could feel your cunt tightening around his throbbing cock. he could cum in that moment, but he wanted to enjoy it a little more. he liked the sight of your tits bouncing up and down as he sped up the pace, your face contorting with pleasure as he fucked you like no one else had.

he fucked you until you squirted all over his cock and the bedsheets. your legs gave out as he was still trying to reach his own orgasm.

“you look so fucking pretty, y/n” he said, your body glistening with sweat, a soft flush in your cheeks and your lips swollen. he continued thrusting in and out of you until he came inside you, filling you with his hot cum, not letting any drop go to waste.

he then pulled out of you, and laid next to you. his raven hair messy and some sticking to his forehead. he had never looked that handsome as in that moment. you turned and got on top of him and kissed him hard, tears started to run down your face.

“i’m so sorry, i-” you started saying but you couldn’t finish your sentence. “jungkook, must never find out about this…” you said, still crying as yoongi cleaned your tears from your cheeks.

he didn’t say anything else for the rest of the night, or the following days.

[oliver--fox]

Haunted Escape: Oliver & Rosemary

TIMING: mid-October

SETTING: Haunted House

PARTIES: @oliver--fox & @necrosemancy

SUMMARY: Oliver and Rosemary get trapped in a haunted house after getting separated from the people they came with. The house is not all that it seems

Oliver wasn’t a big fan of haunted houses. Maybe it was because it made him a little claustrophobic, perhaps it was because he knew of the real creatures that were out in the world; who could say? Regardless, Peter had practically begged him to come with. Peter was an old neighbor, someone Oliver had met when he first moved to town and became close to. Peter was also newly single and desperately looking for someone new. So here Oliver was, being a wingman at a haunted house attraction. It had only taken Peter about 5 minutes to set his sights on a nearby woman (Eliza? Erica? Something with an E). It also meant that now, Peter and E were going to be going into the house together, and Oliver would be following afterward. He would be lying if he said he didn’t consider just…leaving once Peter had found someone. The only problem was that they had been in line already, and he hated the idea of being potentially mocked for leaving when they were near the front more than he hated the idea of going through it. 

Peter and E walked through the darkened door first, her fingers wrapped around his biceps already. Oliver followed about 5 minutes later, being ushered in by a guy in clown makeup. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness, but he couldn’t lie, the set was pretty good. They had made good use of the old mansion and the general creepiness that came with it. There was Halloween-esque music playing overhead, arrows pointing everywhere which way, and fairy lights that lined certain areas. Oliver had a sharp intake of breath at the person covered who jumped out at him with a “BOO” before they cackled and retreated into the darkness. Ahead, there were two paths he could take, and he chose left; figuring there was a chance that they led into the same room. Instead, he ran into someone else, another guest it seemed. But it wasn’t Peter and E, no, it was Rosemary. One of his clients from the shop. He didn’t remember seeing her around in line; so how had he run into her? “Hey!” He said in an attempt not to spook her. “This seems like it’s a lot bigger than a run of a mill haunted house” Oliver joked

______

It was Rosemary’s day off, and a haunted house seemed as good an idea as any. She and her newest partner in crime Tommy had successfully suckered Alistair into giving the witch a reprieve from boring readings if she took the boy out for a day of Halloween themed fun. The burgeoning young necromancer was nothing if not a fan of all things All Hallows Eve, so she’d jumped at the opportunity. It gave Alistair a day to himself, and it let the kid have some much needed fun. She’d left the decision as to where to go up to the boy, and that was how she found herself in a haunted house. 

She had to bite her tongue as they had started walking through to avoid commenting on how the undead thralls her grandfather had kept around in her youth looked absolutely nothing like the plastic animatronics they used to spook thrill seekers in between scare actors. 

They’d turned a corner and someone who’d blended into the wall lurched out at her with a howl. Rosemary shrieked in surprise and stumbled back. She made a quick right into a hall and walked smack! Right into someone. Another shriek rose up in her throat, but died as her eyes adjusted in the dim space to recognize Oliver. “Fancy seeing you here!” she laughed breathlessly. “Tommy, this is-“ she turned to introduce the kid to the owner of her favorite flower shop, but Tommy was no where to be seen. Shit. “Tommy?” She called, looking around. Maybe the boy had ran ahead. “Hey, you didn’t see a kid run by did you? About this high, wearing a Jason versus Freddy tee shirt?”

____

Oliver shook his head “No, I didn’t see anyone. Did you see a guy and a girl pass by? The guy has short black hair and tattoos on his left arm. The girl has…blonde hair? I think she was wearing a pink shirt.” Well, at least Rosemary was also looking for someone. It made Oliver feel slightly better about losing his friend right off the bat. Oliver glanced up as the sounds of faint screams filtered into the room through the speakers. “Maybe we can find both of them if we keep moving?” Oliver offered, not wanting to be the annoying person who doesn’t leave a room. He wasn’t wanting to make the employee’s jobs here any more difficult than necessary. Oliver had a feeling that they dealt with a lot of shit that they really shouldn’t have to.

“So, what brought you to the haunted house?” Oliver asked as they walked through the next room; only flinching a little bit when someone dropped so they were hanging by their legs (which looked like they were wrapped around something, very trapeze-like) to yell in their faces. Oliver moves to the side of the person as they cackle before disappearing back into the blackness above them. “I came to be a wingman, and they got ditched before we even got into the house” He added with a roll of his eyes. 

_____

Alistair was going to kill her. They were going to kill her, and then reanimate her dead body to do their  bidding for losing Tommy. The myriad of options that lay at her mentor's fingertips for retribution for losing their ward when she was on babysitting duty haunted Rosemary more than anything in the spooky old house could. She let out a string of colorful words under her breath as she strained her ears to see if she could hear the boy anywhere. All she heard was Oliver asking about some guy with tattoos and a woman who was very clearly coming for her brand. Not that she’d be alive to have a brand if she didn’t find Tommy, and soon. “No I haven’t, were they with you? I didn’t see anyone fitting that description in my group.” 

“Yeah, maybe they did.” She could only hope. Otherwise she was going to tear the old house apart to find the kid. The witch nearly leapt a foot in the air when someone descended from the ceiling to scare them, and she dodged to hide behind Oliver. “I came so a twelve year old would make his guardian think that I’m cool.” She admitted. “His guardian’s kind of a mentor for me.” Rosemary always figured as few details as possible got the job done, so she left it at that. She batted fake cobwebs out of the way as they got caught around her arm. “Clearly my plan isn’t going well.”

______

“They came in like 5 minutes before I did, I had thought that I would catch up with them at some point” Oliver explained and laughed quietly when Rosemary darted behind him. “Not a fan of scares?” He asks, curious as to what brought her to a haunted house of all things. At her explanation about bringing a child with her, he nodded knowingly. “Twelve-year-olds can definitely be tricky when it comes to making them think you're cool. Wouldn’t want to come off as being…lame” Was lame something people even said anymore? Oliver was also very aware that the last time he had been around 12-year-olds had been a very long time ago; probably when Katie had been that age. The world had been a very different place. “Does the guardian know that he is here? Or was this a secret adventure to make him think you’re cool?” Oliver asked he could only imagine the freak-out that would ensue if this had been a secret meet-up. 

“You never know, the kid may think that you are very cool for letting him wander around the house. You just gotta…make sure you find him before the end.” Twelve-year-olds may like to seem tough, but fear has a way of reverting just about anyone to a child. There was also always the possibility that the kid was already freaking out, but Oliver thought that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say right now. Rosemary seemed freaked out enough as it was. Oliver couldn’t lie, he was a touch nervous as well. Not so much from the actors in the area, but more the energy of the house itself. Something just seemed…off. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was though. 

_____

“I don’t mind them, usually.” She sighed, standing up straighter. She typically loved haunted houses- the cheesy costumes and animatronics, the doctors trying to spook those bold enough to brave the house. But usually she wasn’t incredibly distracted by the case of the mysterious disappearing pre teen. Rosemary huffed out a laugh. “I am many things. Lame isn’t one of them. And yes, they know the kids with me, but like. I am the adult supervision right now, and the supervisory part of the job requires the kid be in my vicinity. Which,” she gestured to the relatively empty space. “I’m failing at currently.” 

The witch snorted, raising an eyebrow at Oliver. “You’ve never babysat before, have you?” She asked. Despite the stress, she was definitely entertained by his suggestion. “Regardless, two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? I can help you look for your people if you keep an eye out for an unaccompanied minor. As long as you don’t go wandering off ahead. Deal “ Rosemary held out a hand to shake. 

___

Oliver gave an understanding nod “Nah, I know what you mean.” This had a different feel than your run-of-a-mill haunted house that you would typically find during the season. Maybe they had gotten lucky with donations or something. It was good to hear that the other person at least knew that their kid was here; it made Oliver feel like there was less of a chance that he would have to witness any blow-up about that today. “I mean…how are they gonna know? Unless the kid tells them. Which, if they like you, you might be able to get them to avoid talking about it. Especially if they want to hang out with you again at some point.” Oliver offered with a shrug. 

Oliver’s smile dips for a second at the insinuation that he’s never babysat, before he makes his lips quirk back up. “Ah, I have a little bit of experience with it!” He leaves off the part where he was essentially a father for over two decades. He’s had a little bit of experience with babysitting outside of that, usually watching a kid for a bit while the parent has to run out or something. “Anyway, I think that is a fair agreement.” Oliver laughed, shaking her hand. “Is the kid you're watching into anything specific when it comes to scary stuff? Maybe we can try and track him down by following the scares, you know?” He was less concerned with finding Peter, as he figured he would just find him when they got out. 

——

“The kid likes me well enough, but I’ve been twelve before. I know when I was his age I’d rather talk about how cool something was rather than think about how negatively that will reflect on adult supervision. Something about the frontal lobe not being fully developed probably. Plus this kid is like. Shockingly honest and well behaved.” 

The witch nodded in acknowledgment. “Apologies. What I meant was, you’ve never babysat and also been me.” Her propensity to catastrophize had hit full speed the second the boy had vanished from her site. Rosemary thought about it for a moment. “I know he wants to wear one of those scream masks for Halloween. I think it’s because I showed him that dumb ‘wazzap’ thing from those parody scary movies.”

——-

“True, he’s probably gonna want to share the story of how he ‘braved the haunted house all by himself’” Oliver held up finger quotes and laughed quietly. “I mean it’s definitely a good thing that he’s a decent kid and everything, but there’s a definite downside to having a kid who refuses to lie.” He shook his head. He couldn’t imagine the anger that he would have had directed at someone if they were supposed to take care of Katie in a haunted house and then lost her. It would have been messy. 

Oliver waved off her apology “No worries, I totally get what you mean.” He knew that her words hadn’t meant to cause any harm. “Ohh, yes, I’m familiar.” Oliver grinned and glanced up at the sign that stood at the crossroads of rooms. “The right goes to the reaper’s castle, does that sound like something he’d be interested in?”

——

“For sure,” the witch agreed with a mirthless chuckle. “I’m so screwed.” One day, Rosemary would have to teach the boy the finer intricacies of telling a white lie. Hopefully that same day, so as to spare herself some grief. 

She thought about his question as the canned screams and howls over the speakers repeated their loop for about the four millionth time since she’d lost sight of Tommy. “The Reaper’s Castle…” she echoed, weighing the coolness factor of that name to what a pre teen would think of it. “You know what, probably.” Especially since the boy’s company more often than not consisted of multiple necromancers. She held her arm out in a silent offer to link them together so they wouldn’t wind up looking for one another as well. “Let’s give it a go?”

—-

Oliver couldn’t help but smile at the other’s dramatics. He felt bad that she had lost her charge, and he was positive that he would be acting the same if he was in her shoes; but from the outside, it was a little humorous. “You’ll probably be fine.” Oliver offered. Really, she only needed to be concerned if something happened to the kid while he was away from her; or if he was still missing when they got to the end of the house. 

“Alright, let’s try it out then.” Oliver agreed, taking the path that the sign pointed to. The canned screams changed to a slightly different frequency, smoke shooting out of the ceiling every few seconds; some evil laughter added in. “I desperately want to know how they got away with this budget” Oliver joked as they walked through the hall. Fake graves littered the sides of the path, with the occasional worker dressed in zombie garb jumping out and screaming at them. Eventually, they made it to an opening. The room looked as if royalty had thrown up on it; and then gone through a battle. Tattered decorations were strung about the throne room; their bright colors were now dull and dirty. High-pitched laughter filled the room, and Oliver couldn’t help but feel like the room itself was several degrees cooler than the rest of the rooms he had been in. Again, no other patrons were in the room; which made Oliver feel even more uneasy. How had they not run into anyone else? Even if most people had gone the other path; they should have heard more than just the canned screams, right? 

What had the kid’s name been again? Oliver glanced over at Rosemary; jumpstarting his memory “Tommy! You in here?” Oliver called out. 

——

“Someone with a penchant for dramatics and a fat wallet was probably on the board.” The witch said dryly. She nearly tripped over a plastic chain that held down an unmoving plastic skeleton, and decided she had a vendetta against plastic. “Tommy!” She echoed Oliver’s call as her eyes adjusted to the lighting in the new room. “Tommy I’ll buy you a coffee and won’t tell Alistair if you follow my voice!”

The only response to her bribe was a canned witch cackle that sounded horribly stereotypical  to the actual witch. She crossed her arms, disgruntled. “Ok, this place is starting to make me hate haunted houses. Come on.” 

Rosemary continued to drag Oliver through the room and onto the next, her eyes laser focusing on every person they passed. “Anyone look like your people?”

—-

“Yeah, probably” Oliver said as he walked. He supposed that it could make sense that this was simply someone with far too much money on their hands who must really just like Halloween. Which he supposed he could understand. It didn’t mean that he wasn’t getting a little annoyed with how seemingly endless this haunted house was. Surely they would find the end soon. The looping sounds of screams and growls didn’t do much to help with that thought though. 

The tips of his lips turned upward at her bribery for coffee if the kid came out of where he was hiding. It reminded him of his own begging when Katie had been young, though in his case there hadn’t been an ‘I won’t tell!’ situation, since he had been the one that anyone would have told. It seemed care-taking hadn’t changed all that much in the last few decades. 

Oliver followed her through to the next room, eyes dancing around the room to try and find some familiarity. He sighed, disappointed at the lack of recognition. “No, they aren’t here.” He answered, chewing on the inside of his cheek. The whole situation was becoming a bit unsettling to Oliver. Something was going on here, and he didn’t like it. However, just as those thoughts started to enter his mind, they walked through the doorway into the next room and were met with a big red arrow pointing towards the door labeled ‘EXIT’ in bold, dripping red and black paint. Oliver raised an eyebrow; glancing over at Rosemary. Was it that simple? At this point, Oliver was willing to follow wherever the signs took them. He pushed it open and was almost surprised to find that it did indeed take them outside. The sudden brightness made him shut his eyes for a second before opening them slowly to re-adjust. He moved to the side; looking through the crowd, trying to find Peter. “You see Tommy anywhere?”

___

Rosemary had had just about enough of the nonsense the haunted house seemed to be dishing out in spades. She wouldn’t be surprised if she walked through a door, and she and the florist inexplicably found themselves wandering about the catacombs in Paris. Though, if that were to happen she’d be writing a strongly worded letter to whatever spellcaster had clearly had a hand in the creation of this cursed ass haunted house about the ethics of scooby doo doors that separate people in spaces where minors would be present. Not that she should be the one to lecture anyone about ethics, of all things. 

The witch’s eyes caught on the shiny beacon of an exit sign at the same moment Oliver’s had. Hope swelled in her chest as she glanced back over to the florist with a shrug as if to say it’s worth a shot. 

The sun was near blinding after tromping around in the dim lighting of the haunted house, and Rosemary blinked rapidly as she waited for her eyes to adjust. Her eyes slowly scanned a crowd of happy looking people until it landed on a puckish looking face who seemed to be looking for someone. “Tommy!” She shouted, making a beeline for the kid. She yanked the preteen into a bone crushing hug, and the boy did as all kids did and made a show of pushing the woman away in order to look cool in front of the other kids that were lurking about. She whirled around to wave over Oliver and flourished grandly toward the boy. “Child obtained!” 

Relief washed over her like a cool summer rain, and she felt like she could breathe again. Alistair wouldn’t be murdering her, not this time. “Rosemary I’m fine, stop squishing me-“ Tommy protested, trying to squirm away from the witch who was checking to make sure nothing had gone grievously wrong in the haunted house. Satisfied that the boy was in one piece and she had dodged the bullet of Alistair’s ire this time, she looked back to Oliver. “You see your friends?”

—---

Oliver smiled softly at the scene in front of him. He was happy that Rosemary had found the kid she was looking for. It had been obvious how concerned she was; at least now she didn’t have to worry about the child’s parent getting…super upset. Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t at least get a glare after all. Perhaps she could get Tommy to keep the whole ordeal a secret. Oliver glanced behind him at the door that they had come out of. From the outside, the building looked as normal as ever. It didn’t look abnormally large, or anything of the sort. There wasn’t any hint of the weirdness that they had experienced inside. The whole thing made Oliver’s lips turn down ever so slightly. 

At the sound of Rosemary’s voice, Oliver turns back to her. “Uh…” Oliver scans the crowd again, paying a bit more attention this time around. Farther back, he spots the back of Peter’s head. “Yep! I see him.” Looks like the girl he was with isn’t around though. Oliver is sure there is a story there. “Anyway, I better meet up with him. Glad you found your person too, and that we made it through. You aren’t the worst person to be stuck in a haunted house with.” He winks before giving a small wave and entering the crowd.  He makes his way through the wave of people, putting his head on Peter’s arm as he gets close to him. The other jumps and swivels around “Oliver! You scared the shit out of me. You’re not going to believe what happened…” Oliver grins as the other launches into his experience as they make their way out of the crowd.

[sharklilly]

Oh hey I don’t know if you’re still redesigning your mutant OCs but there’s some Homestuck lore you’ve forgotten! In Canon all of the followers of the Signless have died out so it’s very likely that there aren’t any of them around to interact with your mutants. It’s noted that nobody really believes in the Signless anymore and that it’s all seen as superstition nowadays. I don’t know how you missed it but it should be there in the comic with the rest of the Signless exposition.

Furthermore, it’s really interesting that there’s more crab dads and moms but it should be noted that either your mutants should be masquerading as another blood caste and faking it by wearing a said caste’s sign. Or they’d wear the same exact Cancer sign as Karkat. It doesn’t matter that they’re not the second coming or whatever. The only reason Karkat wears it and is not like instantly culled for being a believer of an illegal cult or whatever is that it fits in with Alternia’s lore.

Now that the followers of the Signless have been essentially wiped out, it’s kinda common anonymous internet thing for children to obscure their blood caste using the Cancer sign. Sure it’s seen as really immature but that’s the reason why Karkat wasn’t culled for like wearing the sign of the Signless and or an appropriated Lime Blood sign (which was what the sign of the Signless was). It’s usually only done by Low bloods who’re ashamed of their blood caste though and that’s kinda why Equius mocks Karkat for it in one of his early memos.

I appreciate all this information! Some of this I did not remember from the original comic, and I agree with the advice you have on writing mutants :)

In Michag's story, he does encounter followers of the Signless at at least one point, because he kind of made some waves with a small tight-knit community of mostly lowbloods trying to lead a rebellion (there's also a couple violet bloods involved but it's a long story), I believe that there are people out there who have knowledge on the superstition surrounding the Signless that might have been interested. He didn't really have very long interactions with anyone about it. Michag also is very resistant to wearing a sign even if he knows people will bother him about it. He's not very good at making good choices for himself. He does wear burgundy pants though! He is pretty attached to his gray hoodies. As for Dresi, she at a point in her youth was within a young violet blood's possession, and that violet blood really wanted her to like him. She was prompted to draw clothes, and she refused but eventually was convinced through negotiation and drew one thing, and it was a gray sweater and she drew a symbol that to her represented fire in orange. Maniai had it made for her. Eventually she murdered him and kept the sweater. She found a home and became a shut in with someone she was safe with (Michag), and then eventually she moved somewhere he didn't know about out in the middle of nowhere and would make long treks on a bike to the market wearing a burgundy trench coat and hat with a knife up her sleeve that she's never had to use. She just generally acts really shady and unapproachable every time she's at the market and has only become acquainted with the cashiers working at a small liquor store because she always buys from them because she definitely can't steal from them and has to buy bulk amounts of alcohol. Also I know there exists a small number drawings out there of her in a gray symbol shirt when she was a child, which had to do with some stuff with her ancestor (has to do with Sgrub and ectobiology and whatever), but a lot of her story has been being reworked, and she probably won't have a reason to have the gray sign shirt at all. I can't exactly say what all will change though as of right now.

There's more to their stories, but I figure that addressed some of the points you brought up. It might be that your interpretation of the canon would mean that Michag should never encounter anyone that knows about the Signless, which I think is also a valid interpretation.

This was nice to see! it reminds me of an old post I made on instagram when someone asked me about writing mutant characters as well :)

Also sorry if this is a bit much! I wanted to find a way to address everything and was worried about how I might be coming across, so I just want to express that I am saying everything genuinely and I thought this was a nice opportunity to share a bit about my mutants and how I've written them ^^

[linkemon]

Il limone (Bruno Buccellati x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you're interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

[ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ] ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴘᴀɪʀ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ ʜᴜꜱʙᴀɴᴅ. ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟ ꜱᴇᴛᴛʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀꜱᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɢɪᴏʀɴᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜʙɪǫᴜɪᴛᴏᴜꜱ ʟᴇᴍᴏɴꜱ…

ᴀᴅᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: 1. ᴛʜᴇ ꜱʜᴏᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ꜱᴘᴏɪʟᴇʀꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴊᴏᴊᴏ'ꜱ 5ᴛʜ ᴘᴀʀᴛ - ᴠᴇɴᴛᴏ ᴀᴜʀᴇᴏ. 2. ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ɪɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 5 ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ɪᴛᴀʟɪᴀɴ ꜰᴏᴏᴅ ɴᴀᴍᴇꜱ. ɪ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ.

Even now remaining, is that bitter Scent of lemon, that’ll never leave Waiting out the rain, I can’t go home until it clears away. Kenshi Yonezu, Lemon

[Reader] sat down with difficulty on the whitewashed rattan chair. There was a crystal jug on the table. She reached for it. But when she saw the lemonade, she withdrew her hand. Fate always liked to mock her. She contented herself with a piece of fruit tart. She laughed inwardly at the sight of the fork with a plant motif. Giorno may have had the title of boss of Passione but he was still a child inside. Unfortunately, the sweet taste of the baked goods left much to be desired, although she knew that Trish tried very hard. She made a cake especially for her arrival. She was certainly counting on praise from the long-time pastry chef. [Reader]'ll have to bend the truth a little to avoid embarrassing her.

There was an amazing view from the terrace. From a distance she saw how large the clusters of grapes were on the green shoots. The poles were barely able to support the weight. It became crowded around the brick building. Vineyard workers hurriedly put away equipment and baskets. A storm was coming. The sky above the horizon turned dark blue. The wind was getting stronger every moment. For now, it was only lightly brushing her hair but she knew that soon it would be tugging at everything it came across. She used to like this weather. She liked the feeling of something powerful coming, uncontrollable, unstoppable. The old excitement about this image was replaced by irrational fear. She had had enough of surprises. She's already lost enough.

She grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the table. Mista must have left them here with the lighter. Slight change. It doesn't seem like a big deal but he's never smoked before.

The events of six months ago affected them all. It became impossible to return to the previous state. They seemed the same on the outside but on the inside they had aged years. She knew this was true, even though they barely talked about it.

She lit a cigarette with a slightly trembling hand. She hadn't felt nicotine for a long time. However, before she could take a puff, she heard:

— Smoking is harmful to the child.

Giorno Giovanna sat across from her. The blonde didn't wear his usual black and green outfit. He was wearing a loose shirt and regular pants. She hadn't seen him like this for a long time. In fact, she hadn't seen him at all in a long time. She was pleased with this informal style. He must have seen her as some kind of family. Because wasn't that what they were now? A broken family united by trauma and longing?

— You may be the boss of the gang but you're not my boss. — She stuck out her middle finger.

Still, she put out her cigarette. She said it was a waste of so many years of rehab to start again now. Besides, she knew deep down that he had told the truth.

— Nice to see you too, [Reader]. — The smile was faint but noticeable.

She studied his face after the long separation. Only after a while did she notice the dark circles under her eyes. She asked herself if it was from work or if he suffered from the same thing as her — insomnia. However, she kept silent about it.

They talked about everything and nothing, making up for lost time. Until now, she hadn't realized how much she missed the company of other people. She wasn't left completely alone in the villa. Her siblings visited her regularly. But they were different. Chatting with them never had any trace of the same depth. They knew nothing about the stands and did not know the real reason for her husband's death. She couldn't blame them but it made the sympathy they showed her feel hollow. As if their words didn't mean anything true and sincere.

— Have I ever told you how I met Bruno? — she asked, watching him sip lemon water from his glass.

He shook his head. He must have felt surprised. They hadn't mentioned him in a long time. They did not scratch barely healed wounds. This became a silent agreement between them.

[Reader] went to the door and changed the sign that read "Open" to "Closed." Dusk was slowly falling outside, contrasting with the bright interior of the bakery. She liked moments like this. Her siblings were in the back, cleaning up after the day, so she had a moment to herself. A calm, slow melody came from the radio, mixing with their voices. The clock ticked quietly, counting down the time left until the end of the shift. The warmth in the room made her feel sleepy.

She pulled out a dozen trays from behind the glass window. There wasn't a single cookie left. Customers bought all the baked goods at an alarming rate. She was happy but it still wasn't enough. Her family needed more money. Treating her father for such an advanced stage of cancer cost a fortune. They used the last of their strength to make ends meet to keep him alive. Chemotherapy brought great results but every lira of costs went towards it. This meant that there was almost nothing left to pay tribute to Passione.

She reached for the broom. The floor needed a good cleaning after the whole day. She also ran a mop over it. The smooth and wet surface reflected the yellow light from the ceiling lamps. She sighed dissatisfiedly as she heard the jingle of the bell above the entrance. Probably, as always, someone will come in with dirty shoes and she will have to start from the beginning.

— Closed! — she said reflexively.

— I'd like to see the owner. — The calm, deep voice carried a note of command.

She turned around slowly. Whoever was standing on the doorstep was clearly no ordinary customer. He wore a pristine white, oddly tailored suit. Tattoos were visible on his slightly exposed chest. However, it was his gaze that made fear appear in her heart. Blue eyes looked at her with cold determination. It was their first time meeting each other but she knew immediately who he was. He came for the money.

The peaceful evening disappeared in a split second.

— I'll take you there in a moment. I'll just take the cake out of the oven — she said with as much calm as she could muster.

She went to the back.

— Get mother, now.

The siblings knew what to do. They had already had their bags packed. They also knew every escape route from the confectionery shop and the rooms upstairs. She saw terror on their faces. They knew this day would come and yet they still seemed surprised. She prayed that they would get out safely.

She pulled the warm tart out of the oven, then reached into the glove compartment. She felt for the gun at the bottom of the drawer and reached for it. The cool barrel felt heavy in her hand. She was learning how to shoot and yet the idea of ​​pointing it at a living person seemed unrealistic. She took a deep breath as she put it in her apron pocket.

[Reader] led the man towards the stairs. She hoped that he would be the first to enter and she would have an opportunity to shoot. However, nothing of the sort happened.

She opened the door to the small bedroom. The father must have heard footsteps because he was sitting propped up on a large pillow. He was breathing with difficulty.

The familiar smell of the drugs made her nauseous. The room was lit only by a small bedside lamp. She could have sworn the shadowy figure had shrunk over the past few months. She remembered it completely differently from her childhood. When her dad taught her how to bake he was a few pounds overweight and had a round face. Now the thin frame was covered with sallow skin. The remnants of gray hair fell onto his wrinkled face. Instead of recipes, bills were piled up on the nightstand.

She reached into her pocket with a trembling hand as she heard her parent explain that he didn't have enough money. Her ears were ringing. She expected everything. Screams, shots, fighting and blood. She was even ready to attack with her invisible friend if she could summon it. She had no control over it. Sometimes it showed up in crisis situations and got her out of trouble. She had no idea what it was. No one else saw it.

The man turned towards her. It was as if he knew she was planning his death.

— We will postpone the repayment of the debt.

He said just that and that's all.

He wasn't lying. She felt it. The navy blue irises did not hide any trace of falsehood.

Her lower lip began to tremble uncontrollably. She bit it until it bled, all the while repeating his words in her head. She had a hard time holding back the tears that wanted to come to the surface. She released the long-held breath, trying to pull herself together.

She went downstairs, still in disbelief at her luck.

— Is there anything sweet left? — asked the capo, grabbing the door handle.

The question caught her completely off guard.

— Lemon tart — she replied after a moment's hesitation.

Only she was able to eat it. She baked it every Sunday. It became a sort of end-of-the-week ritual. But it looked like she would have to do without it this once.

— I'd like to buy it. — He took out his wallet.

— It's on the house. — She took out a decorative box. — But I am warning. It is very sour. I haven't met anyone else who likes it yet beside me.

Their hands touched briefly as she handed him the paper bag. She was surprised to see that they were delicate. They didn't match the rest of the gangster's body at all.

— Arrivederci! — He disappeared behind the glass window of the confectionery shop.

— Then he started coming regularly. Even after my father died and the debt was paid off. You know the rest of the story. — She rested her head on her shoulder. — Sometimes I think that only he was able to eat this cake because the sourness could not overcome the bitterness of his life. — She laughed.

For the first time in a long time. This sound filled the silence that fell at the table. She felt strange about it. As if she was somehow betraying Bruno's memory. But then she remembered that enough mourning was enough. She promised herself that. She had cried enough. It's time to heal the wounds. A child needs a strong mother.

— [Reader]. — Giovanna looked at her hesitantly. — Why are you telling me this? I have the impression that there is a second meaning to this...

This didn't surprise her. As always, he was a good observer.

— I talked to Trish about it but not to you — she began.

The storm was getting closer to the vineyard. The wind tugged at the strands of her hair more and more each moment. She persistently brushed them away from her forehead. Just like her husband used to do for her. He had a tender look reserved only for her back then.

— I don't blame you for his death. What I said then…— She took a deep breath. — I was angry. At myself, at you and at him.

The memory of her own anger made her feel ashamed. The grief and sadness of the loss forced her to shout out the things she regretted. She shifted the blame. It was easier that way. It helped only initially.

After the funeral, she locked herself in a large villa. She didn't let anyone in. For the first week she only went to the orchard with lemon trees. She picked fruit and baked cakes. Continuously. It's always the same thing. She wasted a lot of food. She had no one to eat the pastries and she herself didn't even want to put the tarts in her mouth. She felt like vomiting at the thought of the sour taste. She kept telling herself it was because of the pregnancy.

During the second week, she walked on the beach every day. She spent hours at their favourite place. She collected shells and sometimes just lay on the sand. She would spread a blanket and listen to the sound of the waves all afternoon. Sometimes it occurred to her that she should simply run towards the distant cliff and plunge into the dark green depths. But she never went in that direction. She was afraid she might actually do it. And she was no longer responsible only for herself. So she stroked her rounding belly and told the baby everything that came to her mind.

Bruno was the son of a fisherman. The boat they were using sometimes was still at the docks. The yellow colour was getting on her nerves. One day she dragged it to the shore and painted it. She covered herself in white paint from head to toe. The clothes were only fit to be thrown away. That evening she went to bed tired enough to fall asleep peacefully. She finally wasn't plagued by nightmares.

The weeks passed. The family's first unannounced visit made her irritated. They seemed to tiptoe around her. Pretend nothing happened. Still, she saw pity in their eyes. She told them to leave. It was only three days later that she called to apologize. She needed time to collect herself. She accepted them only a month later. After a stiff greeting, the words started pouring out of her mouth. The previous denial and apathy were replaced by tears. She cried in her sisters' arms. She howled with grief. So long that she no longer knew who she felt sorry for — Buccellati, the child or herself. She fell asleep on the couch between her family. They covered her with a blanket, cooked dinner and took her shopping. Ordinary, normal life. She slowly recovered.

The most difficult thing was coming to the meeting with Passione. Her earlier outburst changed a lot in their relationship. They didn't explain everything right away. Insecurity, guilt and regret stood in the way. Some things were left unsaid. They needed a lot of time to repair damaged relationships.

Giorno was not at fault. She wanted to make him realize this because she knew he was consumed with guilt. One that she herself contributed to. [Reader] had already moved forward but he was still stuck in place. She wanted to fix it.

— Bruno would try to make his dream come true even without your help. Perhaps then many more people would have died and nothing would have been achieved. I realized that one day these drugs could be sold to our child and it terrified me. None of these deaths were your fault. It's high time you realized this.

The first cool drops began to fall on the terrace. They hit the boards steadily, creating dark spots.

— Thank you. — The voice seemed barely distinguishable from a whisper.

— There is one more thing I came with.

She had a feeling he wouldn't like it. She had no clue as to what she would do. She wasn't sure if he would grant her request but she had to try.

— Take Fugo back in...

She saw how much he wanted to interrupt her.

— Buccelatti gave me and my family a chance. — These words made him fall silent. — I know you think he's a traitor but he was only loyal to his old boss. I'm not saying you have to take him right away. You can give him a task or mission. Whatever. But don't throw away his help. I've known him for a long time. He misses you all too. Narancia's death took a heavy toll on him.

She didn't know why she was defending him. She had the right to blame him for leaving her husband. He did not take part in the deadly expedition. He refused to help his friends. On the other hand, thanks to this he survived. She knew he was sorry.

She has already lost too many people. Taking Pannacotta out of her life on her own accord seemed stupid to her. A longtime friend should stand by their side again. She was going to give him that chance.

— I will consider this. — He nodded.

She couldn't count on anything more.

— Do you need Trish? — she asked, getting up from her chair.

They picked up the dishes together. The boy held up the silver tray.

— I don't have any tasks for her at the moment. Do you want to take her with you?

— The villa is too big just for me. Childbirth is getting closer. I could use some help. — She stroked her belly. — And a change of scenery will be good for her.

— [Reader], are you there already?! — The girl entered the terrace.

Trish kissed her on both cheeks. [Reader] hadn't seen her so happy in a long time. She was happy that this visit evoked such emotions in her. That meant she had somehow pulled herself together.

— Where were you guys? — Giorno headed for the door.

— We went to buy her tights. — Mista looked tired.

He didn't like shopping. Especially with Una. She was extremely picky about clothes.

— They only had hopeless brands but there was a promotion for lemons. Mr. Pistol bought a few bags. I have no idea what he will do with them. I guess he'll feed the Sex Pistols...

[Reader] laughed.

— What are you laughing at? — Mista lowered his eyebrow.

— Nothing. — She waved her hand. — Just a coincidence because that's the name I chose for the baby. Meet Limone.

She wasn't sure if it would be appropriate. She was afraid it would remind her too much of the pain of loss. But now she felt confident that it was a good choice. Bruno had to look down on her and send her his favourite fruits. He sure had a great time watching it all.

— You have a vivid imagination — the man commented as he entered the building again.

The rain was breaking up in earnest. Streams of water poured from the sky, hitting the dark green leaves and drowning the unpacked, earthy paths. The entire vineyard succumbed to the wet weather. The sounds of thunder were getting louder. The woman felt that she was soaked to the skin. Clothes stuck to her body. The storm will probably continue to rage for several hours.

[Reader] headed towards the dry house. On the threshold of the door she realized that Giorno had disappeared. She looked around, shielding her eyes from the drops. She spotted him in the distance. He waded through the pouring rain. He stopped on a small hill and unfastened his brooch. For a moment she saw the shadow of the Gold Experience. Immediately after, the golden ladybug turned into a lemon tree. She smiled for the third time that day and went inside.

[harrietbarnesblog]

I don't wanna be your friend

Masterlist

Masterpost

Pairing: Felix x reader

Warning: fluff, a little bit of angst and friends to lovers and swearing

A/n: this turned out to be more dramatic than I expected it to be. Hope you guys enjoy

You have been friends with Felix ever since middle school. You guys go everywhere together and do all shit together. There aren't any things about you that he doesn't and vice versa. Well maybe there's one thing.

Felix invited you to his dorm for a movie night. You grabbed the shirt that was thrown on the corner of your room and put it on. It wasn't yours so probably it was Felix's.

You went to his dorm and knocked on his door. And Chan opened the door.

"Y/n, what's up? It's been a while since we saw each other." he said and hugged you.

"Just came here to hangout with Lix."

"He's in his room."

"Thank you, I'll go there."

You knocked on his and announced you were coming in. You slowly opened the door and entered.

"Hey y/n." He said.he was on his bed with his full concentration on his laptop. He didn't bother to look at you.

"Hey, Lix." You said and got on the bed next to him finally making him look at you.

"Wait, is that my shirt?"

"It could be. It was lying on my bedroom floor for days and I thought why not wear it. I'll wash it and give it back later."

"No… no you can keep it. It looks so much better on you than it did on me."

"Okay."

"So what do you wanna watch?" He asked.

"Something scary."

"We always watch scary movies. Let's watch something else. Like something romantic."

"Okay how about 10 things I hate about you?"

"We have already watched that movie for like 10times."

"Please."

"Fine, Let's watch it." He said, rolling his eyes.

Felix browsered through his laptop and played the movie. It was one of your favourite movies.

—------------+--------------+-----------------

“I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” The dialogue was playing on the screen and you were crying. Felix throughout the movie kept looking at you. He was very observant of your reaction. He would smile if you see something and laugh.

He pulled you closer as you were crying. You rested your head on his shoulder.

Few minutes later the movie ended and the end credits were playing.

"My god that was such a good movie. The greatest." You said wiping your tears away.

"You literally say that each and every time we watch it."

"Because it is."

"Because it is." He mocked you. You took his laptop and placed it on the bedside table. And took a pillow and hit him with it.

"Are you challenging me with a pillow fight?" He asked.

"Yes I am."

"You are so dead."

You hit each other with a pillow for a while. You tackled him down and got on top of him. You grabbed his pillow and threw it away. You hit him softly with your pillow.

"I win."

"No you don't."

He grabbed your hips and flipped you over so that you were under him. He took the pillow from you and held two of your hands above your head with his one hand. You guys were literally breathless at this moment.

"I win." He whispered. His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips. You don't know what he thought but suddenly he got off you and started pacing back forth.

“Lix, what happened?” you asked.

“Nothing.”

“Did I do something?”

“I can't do this anymore.”

“Do what?”

“I don't wanna be your friend anymore…”

“Wait what? I fucked up didnt i? What should I do to fix this? Wh…" you were cut off mid sentence by Felix's lips on yours. It took a moment for you to process what was going on. Once you realised you gave into it to kiss. With his lips moving against yours you were hit with an epiphany of how much you crave him. You loved him dearly but were never brave to tell that to him. It was a great surprise he felt the same way.

He slowly removed his lips from yours. He tucked a few strands of your hair that was hanging in the front.

"This is why. You didn't fuck up. I'm in love with you, y/n. I always have been. I don't think I can hide it anymore. You are like the water I drink. I need you. I can't survive without you. I love you. I don't just wanna be your friend. I wanna be more than that. I wanna be your everything."

"I love you too. I didn't know you felt the same way so I suppressed my feelings. "

"Even a fool can obviously spot that I'm in love with you. I buy you flowers and write letters to you all the time. Was it not obvious enough?"

"I guess I was a bit blind."

"A bit? You were Blinder than Adrien from miraculous." A voice disturbed your conversation. You turned to see who it was. Everyone was standing near the door frame. And it was Seungmin who spoke up.

"Seungmin!" Chan scolded him. "I thought we agreed we would not disturb them and only listen from outside."

"How long have you been listening?" You asked. Felix was blushing beside you.

"We came here as soon as I heard Felix shout 'I Don't wanna be your friend anymore.' I thought you guys were gonna fight and summoned everyone but it ended up being a confession." Hyunjin said.

"Get out of here." Felix spoke up and threw the pillow that was on the floor. Everyone rushed out and closed the door behind.

You and Felix exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

[countrymusiclover]

13 - The Mikaelson Ball

Part 14

Gemini Runaway

Tag list ask to be added @dragonixfrye @secretdreamlandmentality

(Raelyn's Dress)

Caroline and I with our arms linked together with one another, walked up to the Mikaelson’s mansion. She was wearing some heels but I kept my boots on since you could see them with the front of the dress being see through it part of the front. There was music blaring when we came through the door and from the looks of it the whole town was invited. “I’m going to find Matt. I’ll see you later.” She squeezes my arm leaving me on my own.

Scanning my eyes across the crowd I couldn’t find anyone I really recognized but I paused feeling someone staring daggers into the back of my head making me slightly turn around finally seeing it was Klaus. “Klaus…..woah. You clean up rather well.” He was in a black tux but he had a white bow tie that went well with the white shirt underneath his jacket.

“Raelyn, you look stunning in that dress. I must say your designer must have good taste.” He shook his head almost frozen in place by the girl in front of him. I had actually curled the ends of my hair and tied two strands of my hair back in a clip. Paired with my brother's necklace as always.

Leaning up on my toes I smiled up at the hybrid who was taller than me. “Oh I'll be sure to let him know…excuse me sir are you perhaps Nik Mikaelson I must tell him what a splendid job he did on this dress." I mocked pretending to search around for Klaus even though he was standing right in front of me.

"You're so silly sometimes, Rae. I don't think I've ever laughed this much with anyone else." He chuckled, bending his head down to me smiling.

Placing my hands together in front of me, sending him the same expression back. "I can say the same about you, Nik. After what happened to my brother I - I didn't think I could have fun anymore."

"I'd do anything to keep you happy, Ms. Lane." He responded simply lifting his gaze up towards the long winding staircase where his gaze locked with his mother who was watching us and wearing a black cocktail dress from the looks of it. "If you're still worried about her, why don't you just go talk with her?"

"Oh hell no. I can't possibly do that." I made a noise in disgust at his proposal.

He responded. "She might like you."

"Or she might want me dead like the Bennett witches did. A witch without their own magic is basically against nature." I cut him off quickly.

He stepped closer where I could feel his hot breath mixing with mine. "A vampire is also against nature, Raelyn."

"Yeah but that doesn't mean…" I didn't really know what to say back.

Klaus whispered, sending me a cheeky smile. "Aren't we the perfect pair then? Uh Raelyn I have to join my mother. I'll find you shortly." He maneuvered through the crowd of people now standing on the staircase with his mother and siblings.

Elijah declared to everyone in the room. "Welcome. Thank you for joining us. You know, whenever my mother brings our family together like this, it's tradition for us to commence the evening with a dance. Tonight's pick is a centuries-old waltz, so if all of you could please find yourselves a partner, please join us in the ballroom."

I moved through the crowd of people accidentally stumbling over someone's dress where we both tumbled to the wooden floor. "Oops sorry I'm sorry." I immediately apologize for getting to my feet and helping the girl up.

"It's fine, it was an accident. I'm Elena…and you're the new siphon witch in town the Salvatore's are afraid of." She knitted her brows together for me to notice she had dark brown hair and brown eyes. "But they won't really tell me why."

Knitting my brows at the girl I asked softly. "If they are so protective of you then why are you here exactly?"

"The original witch invited me. Apparently she wants to speak with me alone about something." The brunette responds.

Glancing over my shoulder back at the staircase I could see that she was indeed watching us from above. "I wish I could tell you what she wanted to tell you but I don't know anything about it. What I can tell you though is the Salvatore Brothers have nothing to fear from me. Klaus has no intention of using me as a weapon against you and your friends. He's simply offered me a home and protection from my own monstrous family."

"What do you mean monstrous family?" She asked.

Sternly looking at her I decided to tell her what she really wanted to know. "My Coven tricked me into killing my twin brother. Have a nice dance, Elena." Turning on my heels I could faintly hear Damon ask her.

"Why were you talking with the enemy witch?"

Clutching my hands into fists I was getting really annoyed with him anymore. I might just consider throwing his ass around since I revealed the other night that I have enough power to take the Originals to their knees. Some people pushed me around where I nearly tripped until someone put a hand on my waist. I grabbed their forearm making them wince siphoning some magic until they spoke up. "Ah! Raelyn, it's me, love."

"Oh sorry, Klaus." I apologize quietly removing my hand from his arm.

He cleared his throat, removing his hand from my waist and offering up his right hand instead with a slight bow like I was a queen. "May I have this dance, M'Lady?"

"Yes." I snorted a laugh at him placing my hand in his letting him lead me into the crowd with everyone else getting in line for the dance. Placing one hand on his shoulder he put his other on my waist keeping our other hands intertwined together.

"You seem nervous. Your heart's beating faster." He pointed out making me roll my eyes at his vampire hearing.

"Is this going to be like the dances we practiced?"

He said. "Yes, except we will have to switch partners occasionally."

"Switch partners!"

He leans forward nuzzling his nose against mine chuckling. "Don't worry, little siphon. If any of my siblings becomes your partner they all know the moves quite well."

The music began playing where everyone started spinning around the room in step with the tunes that were being played. Klaus squeezed my hand twirling me out and back into his chest a few times making me smile. “Let me try to twirl you now.”

“Alright let’s see you try, Rae.” He smiled when he removed his hand from my waist. I let go of his shoulder. I raised my arm as high as I could where our hands were still intertwined and he spun out. Yet when I spun him back in I did it faster than I thought where we tumbled to the ground causing some of the people dancing beside us to break away and send us glaring looks. “We might have to work on that one, love.”

I chuckled, hugging my knees to my chest even though I had a dress on watching him get to his feet offering me his hand. “Yeah you’re probably right, Nik. Thanks.” He tugged me up to stand with our chests pressed up against one another beginning to get back into the dance routine.

“Don’t panic darling but we have to switch now.” He told me where I gulped nervously letting him twirl me out of his arms with my blonde hair throwing around in the air.

A new set of hands caught me where my gaze lifted up meeting the brown eyes of Kol. “Hello darling, fiery witch.”

“Hi Kol. I hope you know this dance like your brother said. I’ve only had a few lessons.” I responded by placing my hands where they needed to be and we began the dance once more.

Kol smiled down at me closely, focusing on my necklace around my neck. “So what type of witch are you. I have never seen one who was strong enough to bring all Originals to their feet.”

“I apologize for that I was just afraid that he would die, he’s the only person I honestly trust at this moment in my life.” I explained meeting his gaze for only a brief second.

He tilted his head cursively. “Hmm. So what type of witch are you?”

“I wasn’t born with my own magic. My mother referred to what I am as a siphon. I draw magic from anything that has supernatural powers. Vampire, werewolf or witches. I can also take it from objects such as I took magic from the wall. But I always have to take from something else regardless.”

Kol smirked, moving one of his hands to brush over the blue diamond necklace. “Have you ever considered turning this into a source to place your powers.”

“I don't know what you mean, Kol.”

“Turn this jewelry into a talisman for your magic. That way you can just siphon magic from it unless you need a stronger source then you can siphon from someone else.” He explains spinning me out and back into his chest where we broke away bowing to one since everyone else was doing so.

I smiled actually, never thinking that was possible. “I never thought of that. How do you know about it. Could you teach it to me?”

“Before I was turned into a vampire I was a very powerful witch like you clearly are. But yes I can help you do such a thing someday but it seems my brother wishes for your attention.” He nodded his head making me look over my shoulder seeing Klaus coming over to us.

He smiled, holding his hand out for me. “Brother may I steal Ms. Lane froze you. I wish to show her something in private.”

“Of course, Nik.” Kol took my hand kissing the palm of it before going to find another dance partner. “It’s been a pleasure, Raelyn.”

Klaus led me up the staircase and down some hallways before we entered a large room filled with paintings and drawings. The supplies were scattered all across the room putting me at awe until he shut the door letting the music die down. “In the time I have lived in this house, how have I never come across this room before now?”

“It’s one of my passions.” He replied with his hands behind his back. “Do you like it?”

I smiled in his direction seeing that he was worried that I wouldn’t. He probably wouldn’t dare to let his guard down with anyone else. My eyes landed on a large painting on the wall in front of us. “This is amazing. You weren’t kidding when you said you were an artist…I take the curators at the louvre aren't on vervain.”

Klaus sighed with a smile. “Yeah, well, that's their mistake. So how was your day with Caroline?”

“It was good.”

“Oh come on there has to be more than that.” He presses on wanting to know more.

Shaking my head at him he was trying to be noisey. “Sorry Niklaus but if I told you that would break the girl code.”

“Not even a peak.” He tried again nudging me with his arm, making me nudge him back.

“Not a chance.” Moving my eyes across the table in front of us I could see piles of sketch drawings. Picking up one of a girl looking off in the distance I asked him finally to look at him. “Wait a second. Did... Did you do these?”

Klaus nodded at me watching my espression. “Yeah. What do you think of them?”

“They’re incredible. My brother would be more impressed than I am. He wanted - um would have been an artist.” I sucked in a breath fighting back some tears.

“Actually one of my landscapes is hanging at the hermitage, not that anyone would notice.” He replied, biting his lip.

Pushing some of them away I paused recognizing a familiar face on one of the drawings he had done. Lifting the page up I scanned over the image carefully hoping that I wasn’t missing something. But the image was so clear: the matching eye shape, the slight curly hair and the genuine smile that he last gave me before he died in my arms. “You….you drew my brother, Jacob. But how…I…I don’t see how you could have.”

“Yes I did, Rae. It…it was the night you showed me into your memories. I did my best to remember what he looked like. I am not completely finished with it but it was supposed to be a surprise.” Klaus turned to fully face me not expecting that I would have found it underneath all the others. “What uh - what do you think? I can have it finished by tomorrow if there’s something I missed.”

I cut him off sitting the picture down grinning through happy tears that I now would be able to see my brother happy and not go to sleep seeing him die at my hand. “No don’t do anything it’s perfect. That’s how I want to remember him - that’s how he should be remembered. I can’t believe you did this for me…no one ever has…I - thank you.” Flinging my arms around his neck I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

“You’re welcome, little Siphon.” He wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me back until I broke the hug still keeping my hands on his chest. “What do you say about getting out of here huh?”

“And where would we go?” I decided to play along with his game. “London, Italy or New Orleans.”

His grin grew wider across his face. At my words the blue of his eyes lightened up. “Rome, Paris, Tokyo. Wherever you want. All you have to do is ask, love.” He slowly began to lean forward and I did the same moving my hands around his neck feeling him move his arms around my waist tugging me until I was pressed up against his chest.

I moved my head upward so close to kissing him until we heard someone banging on the door causing us to pull apart. “Nik. Rae. Mother is ready to make the toast!” That could be identified as Rebekah.

“I’ll put a dagger in the next person who interrupts us!” Klaus growled showing me his golden werewolf eyes.

Running my hands down his chest I broke the embrace we shared. “Hey, be nice. She’s your sister.”

“I’m still annoyed with Caroline too.” He grumbled watching me open the door waiting for him to follow me.

Smirking at him playfully I flipped my hair over my shoulder leaving the room. “We could always run away for the weekend with the world at our fingertips, Nik.” He grinned at the idea following me outside to see that there were waiters bringing around glass filled with red liquid and his mother was standing at the top of the staircase holding her own drink.

She makes a speech while Klaus handed me one of the glasses clinking it with mine. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Waiters are coming round with champagne. I invite you all to join me in raising a glass. It provides me with no greater joy than to see my family back together as one. I'd like to thank you all for being part of this spectacular evening. Cheers. “ He takes a drink first and I followed but I felt a bitter taste in my which was weird but I sent him a smile back.

Comments really appreciated ❤️