attracted the attention of a man who forced him to leave his life

It pisses me off so much how in the books Parvati and Lavender are just pidgeon-holed as ‘fashion obsessed hair heads’ for most of the books?

I mean, they might not be, but that was the impression pre-teen!me got from reading the books?

And now I’m all … okay, okay Hermione is awesome and we all know it.

But that doesn’t mean Lavender and Parvati are stupid just because they are geared differently from Hermione.

Fashion is hella hard and it requires a lot of memorization and attention to detail? And honestly Lavender and Parvati seem to be pretty nice people, in the little glimpses we get of them?

And all I want is Harry, following the Weasley without getting noticed (because he is used to sneaking around without disturbing people or attracting their attention, owing to the Dursley for that) and getting through the barrier and on the train.

And Lavender’s father helping him out with his baggage, jokingly asking him to keep an eye on his little girl? You seem like a good lad, my Lavender is the most beautiful girl, I need a strong gentleman to keep an eye out until she gets to Hogwarts and she starts to learn magic, so are you up to it?

Which is, of course, not true. Lavender has been going to self-defense lessons for years.

But the man noticed that this was a little kid with no parents around, looking all alone.

He thought 'hey, maybe I can stick him with my kid and they’ll make friends’

(btw, as Lavender is not, as far as I know, confirmed as pureblood in canon, I am going with half-blood or muggleborn for her, I’m thinking muggleborn for this specific AU?)

And Lavender is all “Daddy!” and apologizing to Harry for her dorky dad the moment he is out of the door.

And very nicely avoiding to comment on his clothes because she knows how it feels to be conscious of how your clothes look on you and it’s clear to her eyes that the way Harry is dressed he is probably from some orphanage or something because those are huge hand me downs.

(Because fuck you 90s, being fashion conscious doesn’t mean you are an elitist bitch).

And her parents are looking at her from the Platform and instead of asking about Harry’s life, not wanting to put him on the spot, Lavender waves to them and starts talking to Harry all “Those are my parents, they are so fascinated with the idea of magic and what I will learn at Hogwarts, I can’t wait to write to them all about the castle. My dad works in an office as an accountant and my mother has a column in –” Insert popular teen magazine for 90s UK.

And Harry is a bit overwhelmed but Lavender isn’t staring at him, she is not forcing him to talk and she looks nice.

So he kind of starts to tell her about the Dursely y'know, not like he did with Ron about how terrible they are, but about Vernon working for Grunnings (Lavender giggles and says 'Oh I am so sorry but it just sounds like a really silly name? Grunnings.’ and she tries to stretch the word a bit and Harry laughs a little and says yes, because it does sound silly the way she’s saying it, he just had never thought about it. 'I think it’s Swedish or something’ he offers and Lavenders nods sagely because yes, that makes sense) and how Petunia lives at home and reads all sort of gossipy papers, but not teen ones so sorry, he has never seen Lavender’s mom’s column.

And then the door to their compartment open and Parvati and Padma’s mother (I don’t know if they are pureblood but I’m headcanoning them as pureblood for this one) politely asks if there’s space for two more girls and when Lavender and Harry, after looking at each other, agree, Madam Patil levitates their trunks in (much to the amazement of Harry and Lavender) and settles them above and then guides her daughters in.

She introduces them, putting her hands on her shoulders, cautions her girls to not get wand-happy and wishes everyone a happy Hogwarts year and then leaves them there, going back to the Platform to join her husband and tell him how she left their daughters in the presence of Harry Potter.

“He looked dreadful. Hard up at the very least. I think you should look into his family situation. His clothes, at the very least, were terrible.” She murmurs, softly. “I am sure our girls will adopt him before the ride is over, so you should look forward to hearing about him in their letters.”

Her husband, who knows all about his beloved’s wife tendency to take people under her wing and adopt dangerous animals and fell in love with her for it (as well as for other qualities she has) because he’s very much the same, smiles fondly at her for the last bit and nods seriously at the first one.

It doesn’t matter who the boy is. Well it does, because Harry Potter of course, but it also doesn’t matter because no child should be mistreated.

Also it’s kind of strange that Harry Potter would look hard up, considering it’s common knowledge his parents left him handsomely provided for, full tuition to Hogwarts already paid.

Lavender gushes about how beautiful the Patil twins are, which immediately conquers Parvati, who gushes right back at Lavender’s sparkly accessories.

(Look, I might be wrong because this was the UK and not Italy, and if I am please let me know, but I was a child in the 90s, I bought italian teen magazines, sparkly shit taped to the cover under a plastic sleeve was the shit with fashionable people.)

Of course the moment Harry introduces himself, the Parvati twins try really hard not to goggle, though they do look at his scar, and then Parvati starts asking a storm of questions about where he grew up, whether the Harry Potter adventure books right about all he did since he was a child, if not that what did he do since beating You-Know-Who.

Harry 'Do you mean Voldemort?’ is greeted by soft gasps, right until Lavender asks 'Who?’ and then Parvati starts telling her all about the horrible Voldemort and how Harry and his parents saved them all from that monster.

Padma’s brain on the other hand is whirring and she is the one who reassures Harry that he will do just as fine as everybody else, when he says that.

Lavender and Parvati interrupt their convo because Lavender needs to assure to Harry that she’s muggleborn too, so they will have to learn together and he will be just on par with her, while Parvati explains that magical kids do get a leg up because some of them are allowed to practice at home but that really, she will make sure Harry is up to date with everything that is 'stupefy’ about the magical world.

At which point, Lavender asks what 'stupefy’ means and Padma explains that it’s the stunning spell, so don’t say it while pointing your wand at anyone and Parvati adds that it means, well, the most stunning things around.

(What? Wizarding children should have their own slang).

So by the point Hermione and Neville come by, the group as already made the first basic ties and while Neville is greeted and introduced by Padma and Parvati to the rest of the group, Hermione goes on fine right until she hears Harry’s name.

Padma and Parvati thinks it’s … whatever wizarding equivalent is there of gauche, that Hermione would throw that torrent of words at Harry and just … presume to know about him.

Lavender is just hella protective of her new friend.

Tightly knit protective of Harry formation is achieved in 0.2 seconds.

Neville, who has been around other pureblood children but has been condescended upon by most of them (not Padma and Parvati, given that Parvati will stick up for him later on, but still, it was a general tendency towards a potential squib) has found in Hermione one person who has been nice to him to the point of going out of her way to help him look for his embarrassing toad, so he gets protective of Hermione right back.

So basically, Parvati tells Hermione that she should not barrage people with informations like that, Neville replies timidly that Hermione didn’t mean anything bad, she just like quoting sources, Lavender tells Harry that he doesn’t have to worry, they’ll look up all that stuff when they get to Hogwarts, Hermione gets huffy because of course she didn’t mean anything bad, she just thought Harry would know about that stuff, Padma asks why Hermione would think that when Harry has been raised in the muggle world, Neville goggles at the news that Harry was raised in the muggle world.

It’s a mess.

And then Draco Malfoy arrives, because he’s been making the rounds of the train to look for Harry Potter (saying hi to family allies on the way).

I am not sure who says what to whom for most of the ‘chat’ but what I am sure of is that by the end of it, Neville and Hermione are going to be best friends forever and an united front against snobby purebloods, Padma has icily informed 'Mister Malfoy’ that she will be writing to her father about how low the raising standards of the Malfoy have fallen to produce Draco as a result, in response to a snipe Draco made about telling his father about the Patil twins and the rabble they are sticking with, Parvati has informed Crabbe and Goyle that she had not thought they were better than this but they definitely need to find themselves friends who don’t just treat them like dumb muscle and Lavender has vowed to herself that it doesn’t matter to her how cute Draco Malfoy is or how attractive his silver hair are she will spell his hair and robes to look like something an 80s hairband groupie would wear, just as soon as she learns the necessary spells.

To make it simple, battle lines have been drawn, metaphorical blood has been spilled on all sides and the Harry-Lavender-Parvati-Padma friendship has been set in stone.

Ron, if you are curious about him, found a compartment that had Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in it and spent a really amazing first ride to Hogwarts.

They both made sure Dean knew how Gryffindor was the best house there ever is and then they explained Quidditch to him and became fascinated when Dean explained football (to americans: soccer) to them, especially once Dean started sketching out schemes and stuff.

There are too many players, but it looks like exactly the kind of team effort chasers have to put together only spread through eleven people and that’s just wow.

anonymous asked:

After reading Just Hold On I was wondering what your thoughts are on Victor never calling Yuuri after the banquet in canon? If it was reversed like in your fic I would understand it since Yuuri is so insecure and harsh on himself but there wasn't really a reason for Victor not to call Yuuri again? Do you think he was scared of rejection? Do you think he assumed Yuuri didn't want him, hence making the Eros routine about the seducer throwing his lover away after a one night stand?

Hi, Nonny, I seriously doubt you wanted a whole character/motivation analysis in response to this question, but… I’m a perfectionist and obsessed with YOI, so here you go. Also, thanks so much for reading and enjoying my fic.

Upon initial viewing of YOI, I definitely thought the banquet reveal was cool as a narrative twist, but also somewhat unrealistic. You’re telling me Viktor Nikiforov, international superstar and sap, didn’t have the resources or motivation to find Katsuki Yuuri and confess his undying love?

WHOO BOY, here we go. I think Viktor not contacting Yuuri after the banquet is actually justified, which I’ll summarize:

1. Viktor is a romantic optimist

2. Both Viktor and Yuuri view themselves as ‘the pursued’ and not ‘the pursuer’ in the Eros story

3. Rejection is possibly the most immense vulnerability Viktor has

1.      Viktor is a romantic optimist

This has been heavily discussed on Tumblr, but I’m going to throw in my two cents. Let’s discuss Eros and Agape: Viktor’s two possible programs for the next season. Assuming these are about Yuuri, I’m going to propose a weird idea that this means Viktor has prepared two plans: one for if Yuuri contacts him before next season, and one for if he doesn’t.

Plan A, Agape: Yuuri contacts Viktor. Viktor skates to a program about unconditional love. In the show they talk about Agape like it’s about someone who ‘doesn’t know what love is yet.’ The someone is Viktor, and I could easily see this as his program for a season where he’s just started to experience Life and Love in a relationship with Yuuri.

Plan B, Eros: Yuuri doesn’t contact Viktor. Viktor skates to a program that seduces the entire world’s pants off. He would’ve dominated every competition, and won a mountain of gold medals; basically, he’d seduce Yuuri until the other man came back.

Note that there are only two plans here: start to experience unconditional love with Yuuri, or seduce the crap out of him until returns to Viktor. There is no third plan titled ‘Viktor Nikiforov Moves On.’ It’s get Katsuki Yuuri or bust, because Viktor is a romantic optimist.

Naturally, Yuuri throws a surprise wrench in all of Viktor’s plans by not making it to Worlds and breaking it off with Celestino, and then moving back to Hasetsu. Suddenly, Yuuri’s not his competitor; he needs a coach, just like he told Viktor in Sochi.

Even if you don’t agree with my particular strange interpretation, we know that Viktor is a romantic optimist because he fell in love with a drunkard over the course of a night and proceeded to move his entire life halfway across the world for him. All Yuuri had to do was make a romantic gesture with that viral video, from Viktor’s POV, and Viktor shoved his apartment into boxes and left Russia so fast Yakov got whiplash from watching him go.

Viktor wants that love story, but he approaches it in a roundabout way. Viktor is probably a tiny bit socially inept (again, there’s a lot of Tumblr discourse on this so I’m not going to go into it) from being a skating celebrity rather than an average human being, and he also loves grand gestures. Expressing his love through skating is THE WAY TO GO, right?? SURELY Yuuri will GET IT?

So why didn’t he just call Yuuri up, rather than waiting? What I wrote above probably contributed to his decision not to contact Yuuri, but the main reason he didn’t lies more in points two and three; I just had to establish Viktor as a romantic optimist.

2.      Both Viktor and Yuuri view themselves as ‘the pursued’ and not ‘the pursuer’ in the Eros story

Firstly, we can all appreciate that Viktuuri is a relationship which doesn’t rely on negative queer stereotypes of one person dominating the relationship, or on traditional gender roles. Viktor and Yuuri take the lead in different aspects of their relationship, and it’s incredibly healthy.

That being said, we all know that Yuuri views himself as the abandoned beautiful woman in the story of Eros… but we discover in episode 10 that Viktor also identifies that way. God, I love this show.

As far as Viktor knows, Yuuri is this unstoppable force who can royally screw up the GPF and then give Viktor the most magical, fun night the very next day. Yuuri is someone who blows Japanese nationals, loses his coach, and responds by virally owning the frickin program that holds the World Record in an extremely public and romantic display. Meanwhile, Yuuri thinks he’s an anxious, mediocre skater. In Yuuri’s head, he is the beautiful woman who initially rejects the playboy because she knows he’s going to leave her; in Viktor’s head Yuuri is the playboy who wrecks hearts and whole towns just by showing up.

Comparing their views is hilarious. Yuuri thinks Viktor is a playboy, untouchable and bound to leave him. Viktor thinks Yuuri is a playboy that’s already wooed and subsequently rejected him, which I’ll dive into in the next section. When Yuuri says he’s underconfident, that he can’t skate Eros, and panics at competitions, Viktor’s initial response is just ????????? But you are this whirlwind force of nature???? Everyone loves you????? How do I help you?????

Frankly, Viktor’s view of Yuuri doesn’t allow him to understand that this man, who seems so bold and capable of pursuing what he wants, is restricted both by his anxiety and also his lack of knowledge about the banquet. Yuuri isn’t calling Viktor? Well, Viktor’s easy to find—he’s a major presence. If Yuuri wanted him, he’d come and get him, and that’s Viktor initial conceptualization of the situation. Yuuri’s not pursuing Viktor, so he must not want him.

Another recent discourse on Tumblr I’ve seen is the idea that it’s Yuuri’s fantasy to be pursued. He wants to be attractive and irresistible and catch Viktor’s attention; of course, he simultaneously thinks he’s too average to ever do so. Yuuri thinks he’s been chasing Viktor his whole life and will never catch up; he wants to be the one chased in the end. On the flip side, Viktor is the first one to pursue: he approaches a drunk Yuuri, he takes pictures, he starts to dance with him. He likes him.

But his crush is cemented when Yuuri demands and commands his attention, essentially pursuing him. Viktor likes to be desired, likes to skate for an audience, probably is turned on by the idea that Yuuri is his fan and has always wanted him. We all know he’s the jealous type (ahem: Chihoko) and needs Yuuri’s attention in return.

Basically: both of them are Extra, and after the banquet Viktor thinks it is Yuuri’s place to pursue, wants Yuuri to pursue him, sees himself as hopelessly and attracted and wants Yuuri to signal that he likes him in return. When the viral video comes out, both of them hilariously still think the other is ‘the pursuer,’ because in Yuuri’s POV Viktor just shows up and announces his position as coach, whereas in Viktor’s POV Yuuri has (finally) put out the siren call that Viktor has been waiting for. Both of them are helplessly crushing on each other in a miscommunication of epic proportions.

Anyway. The idea of Viktor wanting to be pursued, and feeling like he’s the abandoned ‘beautiful woman’ so he doesn’t call Yuuri, leads straight into what I think is the greatest motivator for Viktor lack of contact: rejection.

3.      Rejection is Viktor’s vulnerability

Viktor is a man whose entire life, from the time he was a teenager, has been based off of seeking people’s approval. Which people? Everyone: judges, the ISU, probably his parents, Yakov, the media, the frickin whole of Russia. Viktor’s career and his existence mostly relies on approval; we all know he fears becoming someone unable to surprise, someone unable to win and gain approval from those around him. Viktor dances around the things he really wants—there’s been so much Tumblr discourse about this that I’m just going to point out the ocean scene vaguely. Rather than straight-up telling Yuuri that he wants to be his boyfriend, he proposes it flippantly and as an open question. This is how you try to avoid rejection, friends.

Anyway, going back to the main point.

This is something that I haven’t seen discussed a lot, but you have to remember that Viktor and Yuuri’s actual first interaction was Yuuri rejecting him and walking away. It’s not unreasonable for Viktor to think Yuuri is going to reject him: Yuuri does it multiple times throughout the show, though it’s likely never for the reasons Viktor thinks it is. Viktor does not cope well with rejection. He goes and gets drunkenly smashed every time he’s rejected in the show (this is more popular Tumblr discourse, so I’m not going to get into it here).

If you think Viktor has never met a fan in real-life and disappointed them before or failed to meet their expectations, you are dead wrong. He’s been an international celebrity for… what, 10 years? I’m sure at least one person, probably multiple, have rejected him upon actually meeting him because he wasn’t what they envisioned. Yuuri is a fan, and Viktor is a superstar, and while we may think it’s on Viktor to reach out and express his interest because he’s a celebrity, it’s also on Yuuri to express that he is interested in the real Viktor, the guy he danced with at the banquet.

If Viktor contacts Yuuri and is rejected—by the first person that’s really made him feel inspired and excited in the longest time—it’s all over, and in a heartbreaking way. Viktor likes to hold onto hope (optimist!), and is terrified of rejection. Note that the second Yuuri “contacts him” with the video, and seems to accept and reciprocate Viktor’s feelings, Viktor has zero reservations about going to him. Of course, when he gets there Yuuri basically rebuffs him, which is why he cries and gets savagely aggravated in the first few episodes. Alas, Viktor is still a romantic optimist (see part 1) so he sticks around and tries to feel Yuuri out. You like me, right? Look, I am sexy and I can make all your dreams come true, look at me, please don’t reject me?

Even the fact that Viktor shows up and immediately frames himself as Yuuri’s coach, something Yuuri clearly needs, asked for, and is less likely to reject, something Viktor feels qualified for, is very telling. Rather than saying I’ve been in love with you since the banquet, I’m here to give this a shot it’s I’m going to be your coach!

Just because Viktor doesn’t have anxiety doesn’t make him any less prone to fear of rejection. Fear of rejection is a human thing that we all experience. So… he doesn’t call.

One of my favorite things about their relationship is the way Yuuri handles this fear, and essentially says: I’m not going to reject you if you’re not exactly who I want you to be. You, yourself, are what I want: just be real with me.

 Yuri on Ice is a beautiful thing.

To conclude this very long rant, I’ll relate this back to my fic quickly (spoiler alert, by the way) and just say the way JHO (WGH) flips this and makes it… more angsty, rather than what happened for canon Viktor, is by relying on:

·        Yuuri is an anxious pessimist. Yuuri worries that Viktor will leave him, that this time will be just like the banquet, which is completely understandable. Viktor is a superstar and, in Yuuri’s head, he is a nobody that served as Viktor’s drunken fling for a night.

·        Yakov serving as the matchmaker, rather than Viktor calling for Yuuri. Unlike canon, Yuuri has no indication that Viktor wants him in Russia, has no idea that Yuuri is literally there for Viktor (well, not just for him, clearly he is a great skater, but that’s a major reason why Yakov took Yuuri on). This only fuels his anxiety and pessimism further.

 Basically, I write angsty fluff and overthink things. Also all of this is conjecture, so please don’t hate me.

Again, thanks so much for your questions and your interest! Sorry I responded with a three page character analysis rather than being a normal person.

Just My Type

Originally posted by thenameisvennila

Request: HI! i recently read your entire master list and it’s amazing!! If you could, would you write an ABO fic with Alpha! Dean where like he finds his true mate but she’s nothing like the girls he normally goes home with.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Warnings: smut, language

A/N: I have so much fun playing with these ABO fics…


Keep reading

The Real Infinity War

A/N: Enjoy this alternative to Infinity War with less feels.


Tony has created a chatroom.

Tony has added Bruce.

Tony: I have a science bro.

Tony has added Stephen.

Tony: I have an awesome facial hair bro.

Tony has added T'Challa.

Tony: I have a billionaire bro.

Tony has added Peter.

Tony: I have a kid bro.

Tony has added Y/N.

Tony: I have a best friend bro.

Tony has added Natasha.

Tony: I have a traitor bro.

Tony has added Vision.

Tony: I have a grankid bro.

Tony has added Steve.

Tony: I have an old bro.

Tony has added Rhodey.

Tony: I have a bro bro.

Tony: Get it, Rhodey? Because you’re like family to me.

Rhodey: Bro.

Tony: Bro.

Keep reading

Finding Closure (Part 2)

Summary: AU. Reader left behind a hometown full of misery to make a new home in Brooklyn. A death in the family forces her to briefly return to the place that has haunted her dreams and memories for three years. Will she finally be able to move on, or will a figure from the past change everything?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warnings: angst, language, more angst, mentions of sexytimes (so I’ll slap a NSFW-but-not-really label on this), flashbacks, mentions of alcoholism

A/N: This is the 2nd part of my submission for the talented and wonderful @tatortot2701 ‘s AU writing challenge.  I took a fluffy prompt and darkened it. My heart has an owwie.

My prompt was 28 .“____ is not a real word.” “Yes it is!”

Part:  1 - 2 - 3 -

Originally posted by heartfularry

Keep reading

Title: Coach Negan (Part 1.)

CHAPTER TITLE: Open Gym

Character(s): Negan and Reader (pre-apocalypse/AU)
Summary:
You always loved sports. Most specifically, basketball. After deciding to join the new season after a very embarrassing last season, you believe that you could change the team’s bad luck and bring them to the championships, but you weren’t expecting the team’s coach to be as good looking as him. It was going to be tougher than you planned.
Word Count: 2,487
Warning: SEXUAL TENSION, age difference, and obviously Negan’s language.
Author’s Note: I am so excited for this story, you guys. I was debating on sticking with baseball/softball for Negan, but I decided to change it up and do basketball (since I know more about the rules/how to play lol). Since I’m using basketball as the sport Negan will be coaching, I’m going to alternate gifs between JDM’s apperance in The Walking Dead and also his role in The Possession. Enjoy! :-)

(GIF Source: @mypapawinchester)

Keep reading

4

Imagine: Pretending to be a man and joining the Night’s Watch, eventually causing Jon Snow to fall for you.

A/N: This was supposed to be an entry for @that-was-not-supposed-to-happen’s Disney challenge, it’s a Game of Thrones and Mulan crossover, however, I was not able to submit it in time because life got in the way, I still wanted to finish and post it though. A lot of this is not going to follow the plot of Game of Thrones, for example I know that Cersei doesn’t have a cousin named William, but I did what I thought would fit the story. Anyways, ENJOY!

Warnings: This is a Game of Thrones imagine so there is some violence!

Y/B/N = Your Boy Name (as in the name you choose to use to disguise yourself)

Another braid, another flower, you sigh as your handmaiden styles your hair, “Please stop moving Lady Y/N.”

“Why is this necessary Mary, I don’t wish to please Lord William or his family, I don’t even wish to get married, so why must I get ready for them,” You groan, you were the fourth child of House Y/L/N, and your elder sisters were both happily married, you however, were not like them. You did not wish to marry a nobleman and live a peaceful life of royalty, you had always wanted to be a warrior like your older brother.

“Your mother and father wish for you to marry Lord William. This will be perfect for you mi’lady, he is the cousin of the Queen, you will live a wonderful life.”

“Father and mother do not want me to marry him to give me a better life Mary,” Mary pins down your last strand of hair, then sits to face you with a confused expression on her face, “They want my younger brother Edward to marry William’s sister, and the only way the Lannisters will agree to that is if I marry William.”

“Mi’lady-”

You turn away from Mary, and look at your reflection in the mirror, “You know that that’s the truth Mary, I’d never pass a perfect bride, or a perfect daughter. I’ve always been the strange one, I’ve always been the daughter they wish they never had, and now’s their chance to send me away. If I were to show who I really am, I wou-I would break my family’s heart.”  

“They love you very much mi’lady.”

“I’m not like my sisters Mary, I’m an imperfect girl, I can’t live a perfect life.”

“Y/N, mother is calling for you, the Lannisters are almost here!” Your sister called as she entered your chambers.

Mary urges you to get up, “We must go Lady Y/N, we do not want to upset your mother.”

Your family stood at the gates of your home, as the Lannisters approached. Your mother frantically looks around to find you, you rush down the stairs, praying to the Seven Gods to protect you from falling in your pathetic dress.

“There you are Y/N! Cover up those scratches on your arms!” You mother scolded, gesturing to the scrapes and scars on your arms from years of fighting, “And stand properly Y/N, you are a lady of the house Y/L/N for heaven’s sake!”

“Yes mother,” You sigh, pulling a shawl over your arms.

The Lannisters finally reach you, and one by one you greet each other. William approaches you and bows, he takes you hand and places a light kiss on it, “Greetings my lady. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you Lord William,” You respond, William is incredibly handsome, and any normal girl would feel insanely giddy if he greeted her in such a way, but you felt nothing.


The next few days go by, and you’re forced to spend time with William. It’s not entirely bad, he’s a very kind man, but you couldn’t be yourself around him. Your brother, Edward, on the other hand was really falling for William’s sister, so everyone was counting on you to impress William.

You were currently practicing your sword skills in the woods by the riverbed, hoping that no one would find you. You hear footsteps approaching you from behind, and in force of habit, you quickly turn on your heel and point you sword out, “Easy there!”

“Lord William! I-I…” You drop your sword, feeling at a loss for words.

“Lady Y/N,” He pauses, trying to collect his thoughts, “I did not expect to see you like this, I-I didn’t realize how…vicious you were.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well, I guess it’s okay for you play around like this sometimes.”

“Play around?” You asked, feeling slightly upset by his choice of words, “William, I’ve been training since I was a little girl! I’m not playing.”

He chuckles, “Training? What would you need to train for my lady?”

It’s now or never Y/N, just tell him, maybe he’ll understand, you know he likes you! You sigh, “I want to be a warrior William.”

“W-what?” He looks genuinely confused, “You can’t be serious Y/N?”

“I am.”


“LEAVE. I WANT YOU TO LEAVE MY HOME AND NEVER RETURN!” You have never seen your mother so angry. William refused to marry you upon learning how you feel, and the Lannisters decided it would be best to leave. Edward was heartbroken, and the rest of your family refused to even look at you.

“Fine mother, I’ll go,” you spat venomously, “and I swear to you, I will never come back.”

You rush up to your room, and grab your knife. You stare at your tear stained face and slice off a strand of your hair, then another, and another, until all of it is shoulder length. You strip out of your horrendous dress and begin wrapping a long strip of cloth around your chest, hoping to make yourself look as flat as possible. You slip into your brother’s clothing and emotionally blackmail Mary into helping you escape.


You spend the next few days marching north, you finally reach the Wall and within the following week you have taken your vows and become an official member of the Night’s Watch. Your struggle, however, has not ended. Every night you go to bed relieved that no one discovered your secret, and every morning you wake up with the fear that today might be the day they find out.  

You make your way out of the food hall, it was your first official day of training - up until now they were just trying to figure out what you were and were not good at - you were a good fighter, but apparently you weren’t good enough. You see the men gathered outside, you’re a few minutes late and from what you’ve heard, the trainer was not very lenient.

“And you must be Y/B/N, glad to see that you could join us,” He chided.

“I’m sorry,” You look down at your feet, he’s quite attractive…stop it Y/N!

“Since you clearly think you’re too good for this, take a sword and fight with me,” He throws the sword in your direction, and you catch it. The other men stare hungrily, waiting for the fight to begin.

He swings his sword at you and you duck away, you were good, but you’d never gotten into an actual fight like this. You hear a few men laugh, “Get him Snow!”

Snow? As in the Jon Snow, infamous bastard of Lord Eddard Stark? You heard rumors about him joining the watch, but you never thought you’d be fighting against him. He takes your moment of distraction, to punch you and throw you to the ground.

You sit up, coughing as you try to catch your breath, and you wipe a small trickle of blood off the side of your mouth.

“Pathetic,” Jon mutters, before deciding to continue with his usual lesson.

By the end of the day you were sore and completely out of breath, “Alright men, the last task of the day will be climbing. Everyone get your equipment and begin.”

You tilt your head up to see the top of the wall that you’ll be climbing, that thing must be nearly 100 metres high…bloody hell! You take your ice axe and strike the wall, it barely goes in, that would never hold. By the time you finally lodge your axe into the wall, most of the others are already at least 20 feet up. Determined to catch up to the others, you climb up and lodge your axe a bit higher. You’re about 10 feet off the ground when the axe comes loose. Before you know what’s happening, you go tumbling to the ground, you let out a feminine scream and groan when you hit the hard ground. As your vision refocuses, you see Jon standing above you, he gives his hand and the look on his face shows exactly how disappointed he is, “Get up.”

“I-I’m sorry! It slipped and…”

“Enough. You have no hope to become a Ranger, just leave Y/B/N.”

“But-” Before you can finish, Jon has already turned around and is dismissing the others.      

No! No Y/N, you did not come all the way to Castle Black for this, you did not leave your family and future to become a steward! As everyone walks away, you march back towards the wall, take your equipment, and attempt to climb once again.

Night falls, and you are nearly at the top. A couple more feet Y/N, come on! Your body screams from exhaustion, but you continue. Finally, you reach the top. You sit on the edge of the wall and nearly cry from happiness.

The men who work the night shift circle the ground below you, and Jon walks over to speak to one of them.

“Snow!” You shout, “Am I still too pathetic to become a ranger?”

He stares up at you in shock for a moment before his face breaks into a charming smile, causing you to smile cheerfully as well.


“Men!” Jon calls everyone to attention, “A group of Wildlings have crossed over to our lands and are acting as a threat to our people. I will be leading a troop of Rangers to fight.”

You have only been training for a few weeks, and though you have become one of Jon’s favourites, you do not expect to be taken along on this trip, so when your name is called you’re taken aback but overjoyed at the same time.

The fight is in full force when you notice a Wildling sneaking up behind Jon with an axe in his hand. You rush forward and block the blow with your shield a second before it has a chance to hit him. Jon quickly turns towards you and shoots you a grateful look before continuing his fight.

Eventually, the fight ends. Most of the Wildlings are dead, and a few have fled. Jon walks over to you, “Y/B/N, what were you thinking jumping in front of that axe? You are the craziest man I’ve ever met, and for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my complete trust.”

You smile at him, but your moment of happiness is short-lived, “Y/B/N! Watch out!”

You spin around to see what’s happening, and you’re met with a dagger to your stomach. You cry out in pain, and fall to the ground. With a swift movement of his sword, Jon beheads the man that stabbed you, and he’s instantly by your side, “He’s wounded! Get help! Y/B/N, hold on.”


You are woken up by a dull pain to the side of your stomach, you look around and find yourself in some sort of tent. You see the shadow of two people talking outside, and suddenly Jon walks in. You get up, and your blanket slides off your shoulders, Jon’s eyes go wide, you look down only to realize that you are in nothing but bandages that are tightly wrapped around your chest and torso, showing off every curve of your body.

“Jon, please! I can explain!” He looks away in disgust.

Peter, a man who’s hated you from the moment you joined the Watch, bursts into the tent, “So it’s true!”

He pushes past Jon and takes your arm, roughly dragging you out of the tent, he throws you to the ground as the rest of the men surround you, “I knew there something wrong with you! A woman!”

“My name is Y/N!”

He scoffs, “A woman in the Night’s Watch! This is treason! You’ll surely take care of this, will you not Snow?”

Jon looks down at you in disappointment, he sighs and takes his sword out. You look away, at least you get to die as yourself Y/N. He draws his sword back and drops it by your knees. You look up at him in confusion, “A life for a life. Now my debt has been paid.”

He turns away from you, “Jon…”

“Move out men!” He calls before mounting his horse.

You watch as the men recede in the distance.

“What did you expect?” You ask yourself out loud, “They’d see that you could fight, and take you in with open arms? Jon was right… I’m pathetic.”


You make your way back to the wall as it was your only way back home, when you hear two men approaching, “If they only knew, that was just the smoke before the real fire starts up. Those bloody fools will never know what hit them. We distracted the Night’s Watch long enough to get our people into the surrounding villages, their land will be ours in no time!”

You stand in shock, this was a part of their plan! I have to warn the Watch! When you finally approach Castle Black, you are met with disapproving stares and whispers. You walk up to a close friend of yours but even he turns away, “Matthew please, I must speak with the commander, it’s urgent!”

“It’s best if you turn back, you are no longer welcome here,” He says, the betrayal he’s feeling is evident on his face.

“Please, just…just listen to me. Once. Matthew, I’ve been living here for weeks, you’ve become one of my closest friends, have I ever done anything to hurt you?” He stares at you in silence, “Just hear me out.”

“Fine, but this will be the last time.”

“The Wildlings have planned to raid our villages, the fight that took place earlier was only a distraction. I’m going to help, if you believe, then please, send help,” With that, you mount your horse and head off towards the nearest village.

As you approach the village, you see a man holding an axe to a young boy’s throat. You slyly approach him, and point your sword towards his back, “Drop your weapon or my sword will go right through you.”

He laughs, “You don’t want to fight me girl, stand down.”

“I said, let the boy go,” You hiss venomously.

“And I said no,” With one swift motion, you push your sword through the man’s back, he cries out and falls to his knees, “You filthy bitch!”

Ignoring his final words, you crouch down next to the fearful boy, “I won’t let them hurt you. I promise.”

“And we’re not going to let anyone hurt you either Y/N,” You turn your head to see Jon approaching on his horse, followed by Matthew and other men of the Watch.

“Jon, you came!” You smile.

He walks up to you and places his hand on your shoulder, “I was wrong to judge you Y/N. You are very brave for a woman.”

“Thank you,” You blush.


After you final fight in the village a year ago, you were sent back to your family. After hearing of your bravery, your eldest brother had decided to take you in, you trained and fought alongside him, and no one pressured you to marry anymore.

You woke up one morning and heard a familiar voice as you passed by the balcony. You looked down and so none other than Jon Snow talking to your brother. Blush crept up your neck as you ran down the staircase to greet him.

“Jon!” Jon and your brother turned to you with smiles, “What are you doing here.”

“As you probably heard, my father and brother, have been killed, I left the Watch and reclaimed Winterfell.”

“My brother has told me about how you bravely defeated Ramsay Bolton and his army, I meant, what are you doing here?” You ask, gesturing around yourself.

“I think it would be best if I told you Y/N,” Your brother answers, “Lord Snow has come here to ask for your hand in marriage.”

You blush harder and look down, Jon adds, “But your brother was telling me that you were not interested in marrying anyone.”

“I never said that!” You say defensively, “I just wanted to wait for the right man.”

Your brother chuckles, “So, are you saying that you would like to marry Lord Snow?”

“I-um-yes,” Despite the cool air around you, your face burns furiously. Your brother mutters something about how your mother would never believe the news, and rushes off, leaving you alone with Jon.

“It’s really nice to finally see you again Lady Y/N.”

“You as well Lord Snow.”

End.

Masterlist // Rules List // To-Do List

the posh boy problem

you are at part one.

part two: the posh boy solution

also available on: AO3

***

Posh boy left his mug on the papers again. It will leave a rim on the sports section.

John goes over to the living room table. Then he stops in his tracks. It’s happened again, hasn’t it? More and more often he finds himself giving Sherlock silly petnames in his head. He was never a friend of those, can hardly explain why he is doing it now – in his own thoughts – but something about it calms and provokes him at the same time. He picks up the half-emptied mug of cold tea and thinks this over on his walk to the kitchen sink.

He likes Sherlock. He knows this, has known this for literally ages. That he likes him, and that he likes him in a way that Sherlock most definitely won’t find appealing. Sexually. There, he said it. In his head, of course, never out loud. But Sherlock, with his many frustrating qualities, of which many where outrageously attractive to John, is practically forcing him to feel provoked. Those feelings then lead to … petnames, apparently. He’s had stranger coping mechanisms before.

In his head greets him with hey, handsome in the morning, those wonderful mornings where Sherlock has actually slept and still looks all soft and not quite awake. He calls him genius when he is being too clever again and doesn’t notice, calls him pretty man and silly git and sweetheart when he’s feeling like it, and, of course, posh boy. He doesn’t even know what it is about that one in particular, but he finds that to be the worst. For his sexual frustration, that is. Every time it comes up in his head, which is more and more often, it fuels his imagination vividly. So much that it has even made it to his bedroom and he has dreams, half-asleep, half-awake, about teaching posh boy a lesson, getting posh boy a little dirty, treating posh boy a little rough. These are all terrible thoughts. Because they will stay just as imaginary and sexually frustrating. Posh boy won’t love him back, after all.

One morning Sherlock sits in front of his microscope on the kitchen table. He hasn’t moved for at least two hours. Nothing unusual. In fact, it was how they spend most of their Sundays now. John doesn’t really date anymore, and even if he did, he would not trade these days for anything. They have fallen into this pattern a while ago, the pattern of staying in on lazy Sundays, waking up later and waiting for the other to have breakfast together. Now Sherlock occupies himself with some experiment on maggots and fingers (John doesn’t even ask) and John is sitting in his chair. He is reading a novel about an incredibly clever and cunning explorer who kind of reminds him of Sherlock (he can’t help it, as much as he would like to). Being absorbed in the book, he is confused at first when Sherlock calls him from the kitchen.

“John?”

“Hmh?”

With Sherlock this is either going to be of highest importance or an absurdly unnecessary request.

“Care to pass me my phone?”

John sighs loudly. The latter. Thought so.

“Where is your phone?”

“Breast pocket.”

With his eyes rolling at the ceiling John puts a bookmark in his book, places it on the table next to him and gets off his chair. Walking into the kitchen, he murmurs under his breath.

“I see posh boy’s being a lazy butthead again…”

He takes the phone out of Sherlock’s breast pocket and holds it out for him. But instead of taking it and paying no more attention to him, Sherlock is suddenly staring at him like his face was on fire. John frowns at him. Sherlock, in turn, raises one brow.

“Posh?”

John’s eyes widen in shock and his heart jumps once in his chest and then stops, he thinks, just stops, and he wants to melt and become one with the floorboards. This is bad.

“I’m not posh,” Sherlock complains.

He must notice how John is only blushing more deeply. How? How did he say that out loud without noticing? How the bloody hell could he?

John clears his throat and decides to go along with it. There is no more turning back from here on anyway.

“You… are, actually. Just look at you, you with your… cheekbones. Your… perfectly tailored suits, your annoying British accent and deep voice-”

“We all have British accents.”

“I know!” John is enormously embarrassed, and he feels that if he doesn’t take a long walk right now, he will punch something to calm his inner unsettlement. “I need air.”

But Sherlock isn’t finished. “If anything, you are the posh one, John.”

“Hah! How so, Sherlock Holmes? Have you looked at yourself?”

“Have you looked around this flat in the past years? There are piles of magazines in the corners of every room, there is a Cluedo board pinned to the wall by me, I leave my things wherever I please, the kitchen is a mess of syringes and human body parts – an organised and well structured mess if you know where to look, but not the point right now – and I am currently examining maggots. In contrast to this you, John Watson, are a doctor, you wear your chequered shirts buttoned up to your chin, you’ve lived a clean life not suffering from a drug addiction, have had girlfriends and relationships and altogether live as part of the middle-class society in Central London. You wish for a wife and children and probably a German Shepard and a house in the suburbs, or at least that’s what you think you want, so tell me, John: How am I the posh one?”

John has a hard time finding a response to this that doesn’t only consist of loose vowels. It takes him a good minute, but Sherlock is oddly patient with him.

“First of all,” he manages then, “ I don’t think I want a wife and children, thank you very much. And maybe… maybe I’m not that serious when I call you things like that.”

“So why do you?”

“What?” John’s heart began beating faster once more. He’s so tense.

“Why do you call me a posh… boy?”

Oh fuck, hearing those two words spoken out loud and together and out of Sherlock’s mouth, for God’s sake!

“I- I don’t. Why- why should I even tell you? You read my mind all the time, can I not be allowed to keep this one thing to myself for once?!”

Sherlock narrows his eyes and observes him from head to toe. Oh please no. “No, that’s not it.”

“Alright, you know what? It’s you. Okay? It’s your fault! You just make me so angry all the time. No, don’t- don’t look at me like that.”

Sherlock’s eyes have gone wide and very blue. He looks genuinely hurt by this. Scared even. Scared at what John would say next, what this would mean for them. John feels and shares his pain, and he hates himself for every word he has ever said that would make Sherlock look like this. He is vulnerable and human, after all. Even if he tries to convince everyone around him that he isn’t, John has to stop falling for Sherlock’s own defence mechanism.

“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just… what you said. There’s no wife and there is no house in the suburbs for me, Sherlock. I just can’t see it. But I see this.” He means Baker Street, means 221B, means … Sherlock. “This life. With you.”

Sherlock’s eyes are still so very blue. He wants to lose himself in them.

“And that makes you angry?” Sherlock asks.

“What? No. I’m just. Forget it.”

John finally has the courage to turn around and go, or maybe he lacks the courage to face him and stay, but either way he walks back into the sitting room, prepared to put on his jacket and leave the house for at least two hours. Sherlock jumps up and follows him.

“John! Wait. We never say what we want to say.”

John swirls around, his mouth a thin line of held back emotions. He stands close to the door. Ready to flee. “And what do you wanna say?”

Sherlock takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, there is courage in the one and fear in the other.

“Me too.”

“Sorry?”

“Me too. I see this, too. Us. This life we share.”

John bites the insides of his mouth because his whole skin feels hot with disbelief and wonder and hope, oh god, so much hope that he doesn’t let himself own.

“What?” he asks instead, going for a weak smile, “You don’t see yourself with a wife and children?”

Sherlock huffs a laugh. “No. Weirdly I don’t.”

They smile at each other.

“So ‘posh boy’,” Sherlock says after a while, “is actually about…?”

“Me being an ungrateful moron? Me never saying what I should say before it’s too late? Me trying to get my anger at all of this under control? Yes. Yes, I suppose it is.”

Sherlock looks down at the spot between his feet. He’s thinking. But not as he usually is, not fast and calculating and mechanical. He’s thinking about the right thing to do. The things he has always wanted to do, but never thought it to be right or appropriate or good for them.

“I can wait for you to figure this out.”

“Wait for me?”

“As long as you need, John. We both agreed, didn’t we? Both of us don’t plan on leaving or getting married and reproduce anytime soon, so.”

“You don’t like waiting,” John points out, but he is already incredibly relieved and impressed by Sherlock’s words.

“No, I don’t. But I like you.”

John doesn’t flee to take an hour-long walk that day. He would never trade a lazy Sunday with Sherlock Holmes, after all. Sherlock continues with his experiment, and John reads. Later they watch telly together and Sherlock yells at the incompetent game show host on BBC One. He said he could wait till John figures this out, whatever this is. But maybe they both don’t have to wait that long. Maybe, just maybe, posh boy could actually love him back.

…to be continued…

@just–elope

Fighter || Min Yoongi

Originally posted by sugagifs

Word Count: 1.6k

Genre: Angst


As the lights flashed you cheered loudly. You could feel the adrenaline running through your blood stream, flooding into every inch of your body, causing you to scream as loud as you possibly could. You jumped up from you seat and threw your hands up into the air making it clear how happy you were. Cameras flashed and the crowd became a mix of cheers and yells, some boos mixed in with the celebration.

The referee lifted Yoongi’s arm into the air signalling he had one the match and the first thing he did was find you. Your eyes locked with his, and seeing the bruises and cuts and blood scattered all over him you couldn’t help it as tears came to your eyes. You tried to fight them back, but they wouldn’t go away. His gloved hand motioned for you and within seconds you were up and running into the ring, throwing your arms around him.

The crowd seemed to cheer more as you hugged your boyfriend causing you to hold him tighter. The referee let go of his hand, letting him wrap both of his arms around you. The arena started to clear out and you followed Yoongi into the locker room where his things were. The on call paramedics came over immediately to check on Yoongi and you let them check up on him, as they could definitely do better than you.

Keep reading

Worth It (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Word Count: 2,412

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky have always had an (unspoken) connection due to having similar backstories and both feeling like outsiders in the Avengers. One morning during a power outage in the tower because of a thunderstorm, you and Bucky are forced to resolve whatever’s going on between you two. Based off this request. (I changed up the request a little bit, sorry!)

Warnings: Language, mentions of kidnapping/violence/death, fluff

*overused gif not mine*

You watch him as he sleepily walks into the kitchen, your eyes glancing away from your phone and up to him as you curl up on the couch, surrounded by blankets to keep warm. It’s an extra cold day today in New York City, and with the storms rolling in, you know the weather will only continue to get worse. Another day stuck inside the tower for you. Half of the team was out on a mission today, leaving you, Bruce, Tony, and the quiet and mysterious man in the kitchen with nothing to do.  But of course, Bruce and Tony were cooped up in the labs all day, which just leaves you and him.

Bucky’s always intrigued you, ever since the moment he walked into the Avenger’s tower a few months ago. Steve told you about his backstory before he moved in with the rest of you, but instead of being afraid of him like everyone else seemingly was, you weren’t scared. At first, you pitied him, having gone through a similar situation as his. HYRDA kidnapped you as a child and trained you for years to become their own personal weapon, putting you through hell in the process. Natasha had saved you from HYDRA three years ago when you had been fighting her in one of the labs her and Steve had come to take down. You don’t exactly remember how things had gone down- there’s a lot of blank spaces in your memory from your HYDRA years- but you do know that somehow she had managed to convince you to go back to SHIELD with her. A year later, you were an Avenger, kicking the asses of the people who had ruined your life as a child.

A few weeks after Bucky moved in, you realized that he was a lot different than you had expected. He was a good man; you had already known this, but he proved it to you. He never spoke to anybody except Steve, not even you, but it’s the small gestures. The way he genuinely cares about Steve, the way he will give the missions his all, the way he bent over backward to save you from getting killed by a HYDRA agent a few weeks ago. He’s not the Winter Soldier anymore- he’s just simply Bucky Barnes to you, a man who went through a hell of a lot to get to where he is today.

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The Two Sherlocks

For the World’s Most Patient Anon:  What if Sherlock is captured by Eurus (?) and the reader must solve her puzzle in order to save him - with whatever little she’s learned from being with him. She must decide who is the real Sherlock in a room with two; shoot one or die all together.

Thank you so much to this amazing Anon for this amazing idea and for holding me to task. I strayed a bit from the request, so I hope you don’t mind! And thank you to the gorgeous and talented @igottomuchfreetimeonmyhands who dropped everything to help me finish it! 

Without further ado, I give you my first story in months: THE TWO SHERLOCKS

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Pacts

Characters:  Dean x Reader, Sam

Summary:  The reader made a pact with Dean and Sam to meet up on a special date.  Do the brothers keep their word?

Word Count:  2821

Warnings:  Shower smut, language

This for @winchester-writes Birthday Drinking Challenge.  I chose Four Roses Bourbon and the prompt: “Can you help me take a shower?” (I played with the wording slightly. 

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ROSE!

Tags are at the bottom.  As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Pacts

“Happy birthday to me,” you say with a sigh as you sit on the edge of the bed and flip through the shitty basic cable programming on the motel TV.

The knock at the door pulls you out of your pity party. Cautiously, you pull back the curtain. As soon as you see who is at the door, you pull back the deadbolt and throw it wide open.

“DEAN!” You throw yourself into his arms. The elder Winchester laughs as he wraps his arms around you tightly. Pulling back from his embrace, you tilt your head to look up at him. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you think I’d forget your twenty-first birthday?” he says.

God, it’s good to see Dean. Really fucking good. Until you saw, you’d hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed him. You peer around his shoulder, looking expectantly for his brother.

“Sorry, kid. It’s just me,” he says apologetically.

“What? No, I’m so glad you’re here! Come in,” you say, stepping back. Dean steps in, surveying your current digs.  

“Are you hunting alone?” Dean asks with concern, you can hear it in his voice.

“I can handle myself,” you retort, automatically falling back into the role of younger kid, Dean was always the oldest. He was the one who told you and Sammy what to do, how to do it, and when to do it. You were the one that argued with him, the defiant one, the one who questioned his orders.

“No, hey,” Dean replies. “I know you can. Let’s not - I’m here to celebrate. Whaddya say we grab some dinner and I buy you your first legal drink?”

“I’d say it’s fitting, since you’re the one who gave me my first illegal drink,” you tease.

Dean laughs. “Oh yeah, that’s right. You still a lightweight?”

“Let’s find out,” you say, throwing him a wink.

Keep reading

Always

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Words: 6.358

Warnings: smut (oral sex (female receiving), explicit language), swearing, angst, wrap it before you tap it!

Котенька - a really cute Russian pet name like ‘kitty’

“I don’t want you to worship the ground where I’m walking on.” you screamed angry at the back of a leaving Bucky. After another argument with him, you lost your well-trained patience. It was always the same topic. You loved Bucky, from the bottom of your heart, and you tried your best to work with his insecurities but today was too much. As he heard your voice and the words you spat against him, he stopped in his tracks to walk away from you, away from your relationship and out of your shared apartment.

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Forbidden Feelings (Chapter 1)

Summary: Being married to a man you don’t love or want anymore is taking a toll on you, but the way out is nowhere to be seen. When your husband hires a you a new sexy bodyguard, the man suddenly turns your world upside down, giving you hope to step up and take control of your life again. | Bucky x Reader
Characters
: reader, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark
Warnings: none really
Word count: 1017
A/N: A few things. 1) A new drabble series, yay! I’ll try to update this one atleast twice a week. 2) Tags are open for this, hmu if you want to be tagged. 3) The lovely @marvel-ash is making me a header for this. I’m so excited. No need to rush, hun! 4) Leave me feedback. What do you think? Got any suggestions?

MASTERLIST | ASK/REQUEST | TAG LIST

Originally posted by jawlinesandmetalarms

Another boring, dull day or your miserable life. The same thing over and over again. Waking up in a house you’ve lived in for more than 4 years now. A place that at first felt like your safe place, a home, something you always looked forward to at the end of the day. But now, it made you sick and tired, the empty walls sucking the life out of you. You made your way to the bathroom, only stopping to reach for a clean towel from the dresser. You stood in front of the sink, looking at your reflection in the mirror, but failing to recognize the once bright young woman that you used to be, with a promising future ahead of you, but one you lose over a simple, stupid crush.

You met your husband, Tony, 5 years ago when he spoke about the perks of being a famous businessman in the auditorium of your University. You were sitting at the last row, listening to him boast about his company and becoming one of the richest men in the country. You thought he was funny and fairly attractive. So at the end of the gathering, you were surprised, to say the least, when he approached you and asked you for dinner, saying how he couldn’t help but keep his eyes off of you, which is something you presumed he said to every one of his side quests these days. Nevertheless, you agreed and no more than a year later, you were Mrs. Tony Stark.

Keep reading

Yoongi Scenario: Dead Leaves.

Request: Yoongi is wrecked when you say you will leave him because he isn’t taking your relationship seriously and you found out you’re pregnant + Y/N wants to give up the relationship because she isn’t sure of it anymore so Yoongi does his best to salvage your relation.

Genre: Angst / Romance.


It was another night of you waiting, you had told yourself a while ago that you should just stop doing it, why waste your time in something that was futile? Because you had hope? Because of love?

You were beginning to think it was just your stupid whimsical thinking that things could get better, that when he saw you waiting like this he wouldn’t do it anymore, you were giving Yoongi all the signs of your fight, you have talked about it with him too many times by now and you were tired. Of waiting, of being the one who had to call on him for the lack of attention. 

You waited in your room, watching your phone seeing he hadn’t answered the last text you had sent, you wouldn’t be calling him anymore. Why would you? To fall on the voice mail again and increase your anger? It was again futile.
You thought about your boyfriend, how you had moved together recently so you thought things could get better, but now it seemed having you here was more of an excuse to stay out because he knew you would be home when he got back.
You had a lot to read for work but so late at night with the thought of Yoongi on your mind you couldn’t really concentrate, so you laid in bed waiting to fall asleep, wishing you could do so, but all you could think was that he wasn’t there with you.

First you heard the door which made you lift your head and breathe deeply, finally he was home, then you heard things falling, following by the strident noise of something hitting the floor, it sounded like a glass.

Alarmed you went out of your room to go check out what was happening, your eyes focused on Yoongi, he was holding the wall to keep himself from falling as he looked at the floor with a tired expression.

-Yoongi- you breathed watching everything, his drunken state was evident, he had dropped a glass and its broken pieces were scattered around the floor, your eyes went back to him and you felt your self getting even angrier -Min Yoongi-

This time he looked at you and smiled, he dared to smile. -Y/N- he stumbled from the wall to you. -Beautiful Y/N, I’ve missed you- his arms were around you before you knew it, he supported most of his weight on you, too drunk to hold himself properly, he smelled of pure scotch. -I love you sweetheart, I love you so much-

You bit your lip to not whimper at those words and at the way he held you so close, it wasn’t supposed to be this way.  You pushed him away almost making him fall. -What’s wrong?- he slurred coming back to you. -Come on-

-Yoongi, stop, we can’t do this-

-Why?- he hugged you again, his face resting on the side of your neck, how you dreamed with him coming home to do just these things, but not like this, not after three in the morning, not with him retching of alcohol. 

-Yoongi, you are drunk-

-So what? We can do this-

-No, we can’t, don’t you realize what time it is? Don’t you see that what you are doing? You are never home, and then you get here and expect…-

-You are talking too much much, come, let me…-

You pushed him again, this time causing him to hit the table behind him making him wake a little but his eyes were still glossy with the intoxication. -What’s wrong?- he frowned.

You tried to suppress a scream, but the sound of frustration came out surprising him. -You are drunk, you fucking asshole, you… you are never here-

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Forgive or Forget III

Forgive or Forget III
[Mutually putting forth and effort. Simon D & Christian]

◇ Forgive or Forget I  ◇ Forgive or Forget II

You shuffled around with your paperwork on your desk, trying to gather the new contract for your last client of the day. On one end you liked being able to leave work early for a meeting, on the other end sometimes these new client meetings could last longer than your actual shift. But anything to solidify a new partnership.

Looking at your watch you groaned. If you could wrap up this meeting in about an hour then you’d have plenty of time to stop at the grocery store and pick up Kiseok’s favorites for dinner.

But something told you that this client was going to be a pain in the ass. He already had so many demands, one of which being that you had to meet him at his restaurant of choice.

Walking out of your building, you hailed a taxi and gave Kiseok another call just to check in, to your surprise he actually answered.

“Kiseok!” you grinned brightly. “I missed you”

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Lick Me ‘Til Ice Cream

A/N: God, forgive me, for I have sinned. Literally, don’t read this if you don’t have the intention to go to hell because I’ll be right there with you for writing this. This is my first ever smut so I hope you enjoy it as much as you can. My imagination went somewhere else in order to write this so make sure there’s some water near you, because you’ll need it.

Request:-

Warning(s): Just filth. Pure filth, daddy kink, inappropriate use of ice-cream

Word count: 2,975

Pairing(s): Joker x Reader / Joker x OC (Original Character)

Originally posted by missjanet1983


          She thought that she’d never get tired of being intimate with her boyfriend. That they’d always keep it new and playful in the bedroom. Never once thinking that her lover would one day fail to make her feel like their relationship was something extraordinary, as it was. However, no matter how hard he pounded or how deep he filled her, it never felt more than a quick fuck in her mind. The same old tricks of the trade when she knew he had something more up his sleeve.

The man was the Clown Prince of Crime.

The King of Gotham.

The Joker.

He wasn’t a boring man, nor an uninteresting man. In fact, early on in their relationship, he had used toys. He had used foreplay. He even tried his hand at dirty talking. But low and behold, their sex-life had dwindled away to the point where she had no more excitement left in her. It was like their spark had died out and they now had to settle for… simple sex.

She refused to believe that there was nothing they could try to spice things up. But every time she tried to advance on him, he would just shrug her off and slide into bed. Playing it off with a cold,

“The heist took it out of me. We can do it in the morning.”

He was gone before she woke up every morning.

Come to think of it, she hardly saw him anymore, even if he was in the house with her. He was always either out on a heist or in his office all day trying to plan for the next one. She wasn’t allowed in his secret sanctuary of high security safes with stolen money and top secret files only he had the right to just look at.

She missed him.

She missed her lover with his never-out-of-place vibrant green hair she could spot from a mile away. His wild cackle he calls a “laugh” that he only softened for her. His o-so-kissable bright red lips that he always used to steal her lipstick to paint over. His dark, meaningful tattoos that contrasted so well with his beautiful bleached body. The way he moved, the way he expressed himself that made grown men shake in his presence.

She just wanted him back.

She wanted to kiss her boyfriend.

She wanted to hold her boyfriend.

She feared that she might actually go just as insane as he was if she didn’t find a way to attract him again.

Of course, she had the pleasure of making him feel good and that made her happy. But what kind of girl doesn’t want to show herself off for her man? Who doesn’t want that special attention from the one she loves?

Deciding that it was time to take immediate action, she knew that her plan would go one of two ways. Either it would end up with her being sprawled out on the huge mahogany desk in his private office being “taken care of”, or, end up with her being screamed at for thinking she could enter his untouched room without permission and injure their intimacy further.

“Fuck it,” she thought aloud, “Ride or die type, right? Let’s give him the choice of whether or not he actually wants me to ride or die.”


          Coming home with bags upon bags filled with tubs of ice-cream, she now started to wonder if their freezer was big enough to fit all of them inside.

Subconsciously, she shrugged her shoulders as she literally stopped in the middle of their living area to think about it before continuing to haul the bags to the kitchen.

“Oh, Mister J, you’re gonna love me.” She muttered to herself as she giggled at the thought of her plan.

Beginning to put all of the tubs in the freezer, she heard a door slam and footsteps padding along the floor.

Was that him?

He’s out of the office for once in his abnormal life?

Rushing to where the footsteps could be heard, she spotted his signature fluorescent hair and practically sprinted to the man she had grown to love. He was wearing, as usual, no shirt but she didn’t complain. Who would? The man was practically crafted by the Gods. His tight-fitting trousers hung low on his hips, exposing his prominent V-line which made her mouth water. She enveloped him in a giant bear hug as she jumped and swung her legs around his torso while snuggling her face into his neck.

“Doll, you’re killing me here.” His deep, gravelly voice sounded as he wrapped his arms around the girl that had attached herself to him to ensure she wouldn’t fall.

She loosened her grip, only slightly, and lifted her head up to look him in his blue, icy eyes. Another thing she missed about him.

“You’re out! I feel like I haven’t seen you for 53 years!” Her excitement was bubbling as she had no intention of suppressing it.

“But… You’re only 21.”

“You can shut up.”

“I’m offended.”

“Just kiss me.”

And so he did. Their lips crashed together and moulded perfectly, as if they were missing puzzle pieces and were only made for one another. The smiles both of them had on their faces during that rare moment were ones of pure dedication and trust between two people.

The innocent kiss escalated into something more heated when he pushed her up against the wall, his hands either side of her head and her legs tightening around his abdomen to bring him closer. Hands reached up into his silky hair and tugged gently, making a groan escape from his open lips before he nibbled on her bottom lip and moving to her neck. She kept her eyes closed and focused on the man pressing into her as she felt him sucking on her sensitive skin.

She nearly lost herself in the little bubble they had created around them but she realised she still had a plan to carry out amidst all the sexual tension. She caressed his cheek, pulling him up to meet his gaze and bit her lip.

“As much as I want you to take me right here, right now, I got something planned out especially for you, Daddy.”

Unwrapping her legs, she let him go and instantly felt lost without the pressure of his body pushed against hers. Instinctively following behind her, his vision now clouded over with a sense of lust and want, her boyfriend grabbed her wrist and turned her around. She slammed into his chest with the force he exuberated on her before smirking up at him, gently rubbing their bodies together to create friction.

“Where do you think you’re going, doll face? Daddy isn’t finished with you yet.” The low growl coming from him indicating he needed her now and was not prepared to wait for a stupid plan she thought of.

“Mm, but you’ll like this surprise, J, I can guarantee you. Just be patient with me? Please?” She pecked his lips, hoping he’d understand what she was trying to do and listen to her. “Go back into the office and wait for me. I’ll be there in T-5 minutes.”

She knew talking in “heist-terms”, as she liked to call it, made him excited and that’s exactly what happened since she felt him twitch through his tight trousers. A smile and a wink was sent in his direction while she walked off. Surprised that he didn’t protest when she brought up the subject of her walking into his office, she heard him begrudgingly make his way back into the room he finally came out of and close the door.

Working quickly, she rid herself of her everyday clothing, leaving her in her black lacy undergarments. A shiver ran through her body as the cold air hit her, making goosebumps appear on her smooth skin. Forgetting the cold and remembering she had a man waiting for her, probably feeling very uncomfortable in his pants, she took the ice-cream scoop into her hand and carefully placed two scoops of the vanilla sweetness onto a cone, licking it once because she couldn’t resist.

She put the tub of fresh ice-cream back inside the freezer and walked towards the entrance of the one room in the house she had never been in before. Taking a deep breath, she knocked and cleared her voice, “Mister J?”

“Come in.” The invitation took a while to register with her before slowly turning the gold handle and opening the door.

The room was stunning with a high ceiling and marble floor, a white rug sitting in the middle of it. The walls painted to match the rug, her eyes followed up to the sparkling gold chandelier that illuminated the room. A large vault was situated at the back, behind where her man was sitting, and she assumed he had tidied up as he was expecting her arrival. Her jaw almost dropped to the floor as she examined every detail of the area. She didn’t know when she would be allowed back in so took her time to soak in every ornament and burn it into her memory.

“You having fun there, baby?” His voice broke her trance-like state and she snapped back to reality. She felt a sudden coldness running down her chest and in between her breasts before she looked down and realised the ice-cream she was holding had begun to melt and drip down her, not realising she had titled it at a weird angle when she was inspecting the place.

“Shit.” She cursed before licking at the rim of the cone to try and stop any more from running down. All the while her tongue was working it’s way around the cone, J had leapt up from his sitting position and approached his girlfriend, licking up the valley of her breasts to remove the trail of ice-cream. A gasp emitted from her lips as she felt his warm tongue make its way up her chest and push into her mouth as he enclosed her lips with his, making her taste the sweetness on it. Moaning into the kiss, he lead her to the middle of the room and sat her on top of his desk, as she predicted would be there, and ran his pale hands up and down her sides.

“Was this your surprise? Ice-cream?” He questioned, grinning up at the lingerie-clad woman.

“What, I thought I’d try something new.” Her own smile replicated his as she held the cone in front of his lips and watched him suck the some of the melted liquid off the top.

There was something oddly arousing looking at the most feared criminal in the city in the eyes and see him lick an ice-cream cone and have it drip down his chin.

“You know, doll. The ice-cream’s great and all, but I would much rather have your juice running down my chin.” As soon as those words came out of his mouth, she physically twitched and felt her pussy become even more slick, if that was even possible.

“Well what are ya waiting for? Be my guest.” She unclipped her bra and slid the straps off her arms, asking her boyfriend to hold her cone for her beforehand though because she “didn’t wanna drop it”. He shook his head at her, chuckling and pressing his lips against hers once she took the item of clothing off.

Holding the cone, he absentmindedly swirled the ice-cream around her nipple, erecting it almost instantly. A whimper came from her throat before he pulled away from the kiss and started to suck on her breast, lapping at the sweetness it was covered in.

“J…” She sighed and leant her head back as the man standing in between her legs worked her nipple. Slowly, he trailed down her stomach and pushed her body onto the hard surface, laying her down. She took the ice-cream from his grasp, allowing him to pull down her skimpy panties and expose her glistening mound as he let out a growl by just looking at it.

“Oh, baby girl, how I’ve missed your pretty pussy.” He commented before pulling his hand up and teased her by tracing his finger around her lips and inner thighs.

“Please. Don’t tease me.” She looked down at him and pleaded with her eyes.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Daddy.” She answered quietly.

He shifted his gaze to the cone in her hand and his eyes lit up with mischief and desire. Grabbing said cone, he titled it and waited for it to drip on her clit and run down, causing her body to jolt at the sudden coldness and shiver in pleasure.

After a few drops had melted, he decided it was enough for now and flattened his tongue on her before dragging upwards. The mixture of the ice-cream and her own pussy collected in his mouth and it tasted heavenly. He groaned as he sucked on her bundle of nerves which sent vibrations through her body before she moaned out loud and gripped the side of the desk. Her reaction only spurred him on further as he picked up the pace on his assault and run his tongue down to her hole, pushing inside and felt her tighten around the muscle. Starting to fuck her with his mouth, he brought the ice-cream back around and let it drip onto her clit again, the sweet juice running down on his tongue. Her cries could be heard from next door but neither of them cared.

She felt that she was close to her release now and pulled on his hair, bringing him further into her.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum! Don’t stop!” She begged and arched her back.

Guess what?

He stopped.

“J, I swear to god, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Her eyes glazed over with lust, anger and desperation as she watched him innocently take a lick from the cone.

“Oh, but, baby, if you kill me, who’s gonna fuck you like you deserve to, huh? Who’s gonna make you cum when you’re a good girl? And who’s gonna punish you when you’re not?” His voice lowered into a sexy whisper as he unzipped his trousers and let them fall down his legs, palming himself through his boxers.

“… I do like it when you make me cum…” Her eyes fixated on his circular motions his hand was moving on his crotch before she reached out and pulled his underwear down for him, stroking his length.

“I know you do, doll, and that’s why you’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy right now and suck his cock.” He demanded, her jumping off the desk and onto her knees in lightening speed.

Her lips made contact with the tip and rubbed the pre-cum over it before allowing the head to be pushed into her mouth and sucked. His head fell back and grabbed her hair into a make-shift ponytail as he groaned. “That’s it, baby. Take more of Daddy’s cock.”

Wasting no time, she obliged and engulfed as much as she could into her warm mouth and swirled her tongue along the underside, beginning to suck hard. She placed her hands on his thighs to keep herself steady as she bobbed her head up and down his shaft, revelling in listening to his sounds of appreciation and tightening his grip on her hair.

She suddenly felt a cold liquid against her lips and looked up. He was rubbing the ice-cream on himself, the kinky bastard. She pulled off with a pop and grinned at him, letting him coat his dick fully. He growled at the sensation of it covering him before she ran her tongue up and down to taste him and hummed on his cock which made his hips buck into her mouth resulting in her gagging. The feeling of her throat closing up on his tip made him go wild and he pulled her off, pushing her back onto his desk and rubbing himself up and down her soaked slit.

“You want this?” He asked with his deep voice and looking her in the eyes. She smirked and grabbed the cone from his hand and licked it.

“Go ahead and fuck me, Daddy.”

He didn’t need to be told twice and slammed himself into her, letting her adjust for a moment as they both cried out in pleasure at the new feeling they hadn’t felt for a long time. Once they were ready, he didn’t hold back in pounding into the tight walls that kept clenching around him, bringing him closer and closer to his orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, baby girl. You wanna feel it in ya?” He reached down and rubbed circles on her clit with his thumb, matching the rhythm of his thrusts and making her moan so loudly she was pretty sure the whole of Gotham could hear her.

“Yes, please, Daddy, I want your cum. I’m so close.”

He felt her pussy clench one more time around him and it sent him over the edge. Releasing himself inside his girlfriend, he stilled his movements and groaned as he felt her do the same. She screamed and gripped the desk so tightly, she could’ve sworn she broke a bone, her juices running down his cock and onto the desk.

Heavy breathing was the only sound that could be heard and the whole room smelled like sex and sweat the two of them created. They rode out their highs before he pulled out and laid next to her, pulling her close while she wrapped herself around him.

“We might need to get some more ice-cream for next time.” He joked, not knowing she bought gallons of the stuff earlier in the day.


Don’t worry about it, Mister J, I got it covered.”

“That Idiot” Part 2

“Welcome Home”
Pairing: Levi x Reader
Genre: Action, fluff
Words: 1888

PART I

Originally posted by fudayk

[A/N: Here it is… what ya’ll have been waiting for! LOL I hope you like it, peeps! - Mod Max]

           Love is painful. You found that out when you were young. It’s a given that your life would be tough, growing up in the underground and all, but your family seems pretty special. Well, that is if you could consider it a family.

           That’s why … it took a while for you to reciprocate Levi’s feelings. Though, you can honestly say you really weren’t able to do much. It’s just that, you can’t help but feel as if you don’t deserve him. He’s too good for you, and getting comfortable with him is taking advantage of him. He doesn’t deserve that.

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Scaredy Cat (Klaus Mikaelson)

I am new to the whole supernatural world thing. I only found out, because I was attacked by a vampire, and I wasn’t able to be compelled. No one knows why. I have no clue what would make me not be compelled since I am adopted. I never knew my real parents, because I was orphaned at a young age. So here I was, in the library of the Salvatore boarding house, watching as Damon and Stefan paced around, reading books. Trying to come up with something. I sat in a chair, unmoving.  

Damon has perceived me as an unknown threat, so I am not to move. How can I be a threat when I have always thought I was a normal human? Not aware of the supernatural world?  

“Could it have been a flaw? Maybe not enough eye contact for the compulsion? I was shaking, and I must have had my eyes closed most of the time, since I was about pass out from blood loss.” I offered up. I had my hands clasped tightly together in my lap, and my legs were bouncing quickly, and I kept fidgeting. Surely Damon’s jokes about killing me, if they didn’t find out what I was, weren’t complete jokes. Elena had filled me in, and had told me about how Damon is. Kill first, ask questions later.

“I said no talking, no moving. That means no shaking.” Damon snarled. I flinched, and I forced to keep back a whimper. I just want to go home. That’s all I want.

“Damon, you’re scaring her. If she is some creature that will kill us all, fear only makes it worse.” Stefan said to his brother. I didn’t mind Stefan. He seemed to control his brother. I admired Stefan, he was strong, smart, but had compassion. If there was something he could do to save someone, he would do it.  

“Maybe I could help?” I said, as I slowly stood up, and in an instant Damon was in front of me, grasped my shoulders tightly, and began shaking me.

“I told you not to move! What are you? Tell us, now!” he said, veins appearing beneath his eyes. I whimpered, and tried to get away. He threw me back against a wall, and I fell into a glass table. Glass pierced my skin, and I cried out. I laid there, crumpled on the floor for a moment, before I scooted myself out of the way. My back hit a wall, and I drew my legs up to my chest. I felt dizzy. No doubt because I hit my head. My shoulder hurts, and I felt blood seep through my shirt. I want to go home.

“Damon! What did you do?” Stefan yelled. He made a move to come towards me, but I shook even more, and whimpered. Not even trying to conceal my fear. I felt my mind wander, and I found myself looking through a veil and I saw hazy shadows, and I heard whispers and wails. Some were scared, some were angry, above all, they were confused. I found myself sucked back into reality, and I paid attention to the brothers hushed whispers.

“He might know something. Surely he’s come across this before.” Stefan said. Who are they talking about?

“Definitely not. He’s satan. Or at least his brother!” Damon said.

“Scaring her didn’t work. Hurting her didn’t work. What else can you do?” Stefan asked.

“Kill her?” Damon offered.

“We’re not killing her. She could be useful.” Stefan said. Is that all I am? A possible asset or enemy? Is that all they see life as?  

“Maybe she’ll regenerate or something.” Damon said.

“No. We’re not killing her. I’m calling Klaus.” Stefan said, and walked away. I felt eyes on me, and I began shaking. Please don’t kill me. That’s all I ask. I stayed huddled in my corner, and I found myself back looking through a veil, and watching the shadows.  

“Can you see us?” a gravely voice asked.

“You look like shadows.” I thought, not wanting to say anything out loud. Who knows, maybe I’m just going crazy, or it will give Damon a reason to kill me.  

“That’s because we are. We’re the Shadows. Not ghosts, not spirits.” the same voice said. This is all too much.

“Stay, please.” a younger voice said. A little girl appeared in front of me.  

“Who is Klaus?” I asked.

“A frightening man, but he won’t kill you. You can trust him with your powers. He’ll protect you. Just stay loyal to him. Stay away from the Salvatore’s.” the girl said.

“What are my powers? I’m just a human.” I voiced through my thoughts. Surely I’m just a schizophrenic.

“You can communicate with the lost. All the souls that were misguided, and never found. With practice, and through trust of us, you will be able to seek information. You’ll be able to communicate with the other side in time, bring people back to life, and take a life with a single touch. You’re a Reaper. Not the kind that you’re thinking of. No. But you’ll get to be powerful, don’t you worry.” the girl said, and then her face, along with the other shadows faded.

I guess I’m a reaper. Whatever that is. I felt eyes on me, and I turned my head, and I saw Damon glowering at me. I stifled a shriek, and I shook violently. Just let me go home. Minutes later, I heard a door open, and two steps of footsteps walked towards this area. One was Stefan, and he had an aged and tired look on his face. The other was an attractive male, with blonde hair, and just looking at him, I could sense he was confident.  

Damon pointed over to me, and I shrunk back, afraid. If Damon hates this person, and Damon is vicious, shouldn’t I be afraid of him too? But the voice I heard. The voice of one of the shadows. Klaus stepped towards me, and I tried to distant myself, but I couldn’t push myself back any farther than I already was.  

Klaus glared at Damon, when he saw my bloodied, injured, and frightened formed, knowing it was him who hurt me. “Leave.” Klaus said. Damon looked like he was about to protest, but Stefan dragged him away, and I relaxed slightly.  

Klaus crouched down to my level, and peered into my eyes. “What’s your name, love?” he said calmly. I diverted my eyes away from him, and looked at the ground.

“Why should I tell you?” I said, my voice hoarse from crying.

“The idiots are right, you can’t be compelled. Come, let me get you out of here.” he said. He moved forwards, and I shook with fear. “I won’t hurt you. Now come on.” he said, and lifted me up into his arms, and I winced when I moved my shoulder. His eyes hardened, and he looked up the stairs sharply.

Everything blurred around me, and a few seconds later I saw that we were outside my apartment door. He opened the door, and tried to step through. He looked like he had trouble, but still managed to get past. When Stefan tried to come in earlier he wasn’t able to.

Klaus set me down on my couch, then went and closed my door. He came back over to me, and sat next to me. “So tell me. What’s your name?” he said again.

“(Y/n).” I whispered.

“That’s a lovely name, now, whatever you tell me, I can tell you honestly that I won’t tell the Salvatore’s. They don’t see sheer talent and strength when they see it.” Klaus said to me.

“Do you already know what I am?” I asked.

“I have a few ideas. Were the brothers able to get past your door?” he asked.

“No. But you were, but you’re a vampire? How is that possible?” I asked.

“I’m stronger than most. I’m one of the original vampires. You’re not able to be compelled that part was obvious.” he said thoughtfully.

“When I was in the corner, it was as if I zoned out. I was looking through a veil. I saw shadows, and I heard their cries and screams. The second time I went, a voice asked me if I could see them, I thought to them, since I didn’t want to talk out loud, and they called themselves the lost. The shadows. A young girl appeared and told me that I could trust you, she said that I will grow powerful.” I said to him. I sat on my hands, looked at the ground, and bit my lip harshly.

“What did she call you?” he asked.

“A reaper.” I whispered. He sucked in a breath, and I looked up at him. He had a faint smile on his face.

“Don’t worry (Y/n). I won’t let any harm come your way. Now let me clean you up. You like you went through a meat grinder.” he said.  

“I feel like it. Let me get my first aid kit, and clothes.” I said, as I went to stand up, but Klaus grabbed my arm.

“No, love. You sit. Where is everything?” He asked.  

“My clothes are in my room, the closed door at the end of that hallway, over there, and my first aid kit is in the bathroom cabinet. Rags and towels are in the bathroom closet.” I told him. He walked around, gathering my belongings, and I sighed. This is all too much. Just two days ago I believed I was completely normal. I had anxiety, but normal. Then I was attacked by a vampire of all things, and found out I am a damn reaper.  

Klaus returned to my side, and began peeling back my shirt. He looked like he was having difficulties, because he was trying not to hurt me or scare me.“I got it.” I said. I pushed his hands away, and I lifted my shirt off, and I placed it on my coffee table. He sucked in a sharp breath when he took in my injuries. All because of one brutal vampire with anger issues. I thought Klaus was supposed to be the vicious one? Surely everyone is mistaken.

He began cleaning away the blood, and I bit my lip harshly to keep from crying out. This all hurts way too much. Tears sprang to my eyes as he ran over my shoulder. “Klaus, it hurts too much. Stop. I’ll just stay bloody.” I said. His eyes flickered to mine, and he had a look of determination on his face.

“(Y/n), love, I have to clean you up. I know you’re in pain, but if I don’t clean you up, you will get an infection. I don’t want my little Reaper to get sick.” Klaus said.

“So I’m just some piece of property now, is that it? If so, I’ll gladly fling myself off of a cliff.” I said, angrily. If I wasn’t badly injured I would have jumped up in a rage. Sadly I couldn’t.  

“No, sweetheart. That’s not it.” Klaus said in a soothing manner. I wanted to believe him, but after the compassionate Stefan only viewed me as a possible asset, and not as a person stung a little bit. Besides, Stefan didn’t even know what I was. Klaus does.

“Then what is? Please do go on.” I muttered. I could tell my attitude was slowly wearing Klaus’ patience down. But after the hell I went through tonight, I believe I have a right. I just want to go to sleep, and possibly throw myself out of my sixth story window.  

“(Y/n), I recognize how powerful you can be. I want to protect you.” he said.

“And put me in a china cabinet until I’m best suited for use?” I snapped. His eyes darkened a shade, and his hand froze from wiping the blood off of me. A second later he regained his composure and continued cleaning me up, moving on to the first aid kit.  

“Any other occasion, yes, yes I would, but not you. I admire your strength. Usually a fragile human would be shaking and crying, but you on the other hand have to courage to speak up. And how would I protect you if you weren’t in my sight all the time?” Klaus said, gently.

“So you really want to protect me?” I asked. He nodded his head.

“Yes, love, I really want to protect you. No I won’t lock you away, I’ll keep you by my side.” he said in a reassuring manner. I looked up into his eyes, and there was no hint of deceit. The one thing I remember of my birth mother was she told me that I had a special gift of knowing when someone was lying. I never believed her of course, but here I am, looking at the face capable of destroying villages, and I know he is telling the truth. I just know it.

“I believe you.” I whispered.  

“As you should. You have a gift of know how, I can easily see that.” Klaus said, as he taped gauze onto my shoulder. He pulled a shirt over my head, and helped me get dressed. He stood me up to my feet, and handed me a pair of sweatpants. I shrugged them on, once I removed my blood stained jeans.  

I sat back down, and he pulled me to his side. I got comfy, and he wrapped his arms around my waist in a protective manner. “I’ll keep you safe. From the Salvatore’s, the fear of the Shadows, and any other threat that happens to be in your way. I promise.” he whispered. I knew he was telling the truth.I just knew it.

Originally posted by salvatore2-mikaelson7