*slurps* I Would Love This To Happen, But But Not A Complete Stranger

*slurps* I would love this to happen, but but not a complete stranger

Hiya! I read your recent Pinhead one-shot and adored it, your writing is so good. Can I request a Ghostface NSFW one-shot where he call’s his next victim but she happens to be masturbating? And they end up having phone sex. I would really appreciate it and if you do please let me know if you take payment or even if I can give you a tip! <3

Oh my gosh thank you so much! I actually gasped when I read this request, I fucking love this idea I hope I did it justice lol. I still get kinda insecure when writing smut even though I've read some not-so-great erotica and still be turned on by it so does it matter? Either way, practice is practice haha.

delicious (nsfw, 18+)

danny johnson x reader | warnings: phone sex, dirty talk, degradation, | note: the title comes from the charli xcx song, somehow not a tswift song for once! | word count: 1.8k

Perhaps your mother had been right in not allowing you to have a phone in your bedroom growing up.

But perhaps it was that very same denial that made you determined to have one in your room when you lived on your own, living out a childhood dream of being able to chat to friends on your own phone in your own room. Not that it got much use, with you rarely being home enough to answer calls and it being even rarer for your friends to even bother calling.

The phone became more like a bedside decoration than serving any real functional purpose in your life, except for when you wanted to call in sick to work or order takeout from the comfort of your own bed. You forgot, it seemed, that phones could actually be kind of a nuisance.

It had been a slow week of long hours at your work, and every class you took seemed to have major assignments due within the past three days. You could’ve cried from relief when you finally got home and had the freedom of the weekend in front of you. You didn’t envy the students pouring their way into parties and bars, though you might have felt a twinge of nostalgia for when you were one of them.

But just because you weren’t going out didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the rest of your night and have some fun with yourself. Once you were out of your work clothes and into your chosen sleepwear for the night (which was simply a big t-shirt), you plopped onto your bed, all the stress and tension leaving your body as soon as you hit the soft surface.

You roll over onto your back, lazily running your hand down your body. You don’t waste time messing with your chest, instead moving directly to your underwear, slipping your hand inside. There was no need to tease yourself, after all.

You had just begun to slowly circle your clit, feeling a bit more sensitive than usual, when the phone started ringing.

Your eyes snapped open, hand still in your underwear. At first, you barely recognized the sound of it, only knowing that the piercing tones had interrupted your alone time. But once your tired and horny brain fog cleared- if just slightly- you glared over at your bedside table.

From where you were laying, you could see the caller ID display, though it only provided you with “UNKNOWN CALLER” on the tiny green screen. You shifted your gaze slightly to your alarm clock, which dimly displayed 11:37 PM. That’s a bit late for a salesperson to call, and your friends would have been announced through the ID display, had they decided to call this late.

Ignoring the sinking feeling in your stomach and the nagging itching in the back of your brain to remember something you saw in passing on a newspaper at the store, you waited for the phone’s ringing to end.

Settling back in, you slowly get back into the proper headspace for touching yourself, resuming your slow movements. You wanted to both take it slow tonight and really enjoy it, and seek your pleasure as fast as possible, needing the release it promised after the week you’ve had.

As a compromise between the two desires, you started to pick up the pace, feeling yourself get slightly wetter from your touch.

The phone rings again.

You curse, this time sitting up and snatching the phone off the hook, but not before seeing that this, too, was from an unknown caller (likely the same one from before, you thought in the back of your mind).

“What?” Normally you would never answer the phone this way, but it was way past decent calling times, and you were fucking tired.

But in response, there was nothing. You were starting to wonder if you had somehow not picked up the phone in time for the call to go through when you realized you could faintly hear someone breathing on the other end.

Great.

One of these calls.

You were hardly ever in the mood to deal with prank calls, let alone when you were just trying to destress after a long, exhausting week. You just wanted a fucking break.

“Listen, asshole-”

“I can see you.”

You manage to catch yourself before you’re able to vocally react, instead somehow calmly looking over at your window. The blinds are shut. You don’t doubt that someone, if determined enough, could find a way to peek inside, but you doubted that the man on the phone was that pervert.

“Liar.”

On the other end, the man lets out a chuckle. And you realize, despite yourself, that his voice is kinda attractive, at least for a creep.

“Made you look.”

Scratch that. Very attractive.

Biting your lip, you lay back down, the horny side of your brain pushing you to start your movements again. You have no plan- ideally he would hang up and you would be able to fully indulge yourself, but as the seconds pass without the telltale click of the line being cut you figure this won’t happen.

“What do you want, weirdo?” You can’t help but throw the insult in, figuring he deserves it for interrupting you twice. Not that he knew he was doing it, but either way it didn't matter to you.

“You wound me.” His voice is deep and expressive, and you are definitely getting wetter listening to him speak.

“Good.” You chuckle, but it’s breathless in the way that only someone who was currently masturbating (as you were) would sound.

He’s silent for a moment, and you begin to pick up your pace, adding pressure to your movements, the occasional jolt of pleasure running through your body distracting you from the fact that it was definitely louder than you realized.

“Are you fucking yourself right now?” He doesn’t sound offended (thank goodness), but he does sound confused. You, on the other hand, are suddenly too mortified to examine his tone and you only realize this fact after.

“Shit!” You pull the phone away from your face, as if that lessens the impact of the fact that you were just caught masturbating by a stranger. “I’m sorry, fuck-”

“No- keep going.”

You definitely did not hear that right. You put the phone back to your ear.

“I’m sorry? No-”

“I said, keep going.” Oh boy. If his voice was attractive before when he was just casually talking with you, it didn’t compare to how hot it was when he gave you a command. “You had no problem being a slut before, so you shouldn’t have one now.”

“I- okay. I just feel awkward now.” All of the bravado you felt earlier had quickly dissipated once you were caught.

He hums on the other end of the line and you wait impatiently for his response.

“Would it help if I told you what to do?”

This was certainly not how you had anticipated your night ending up, but you weren’t complaining. How often would you get the chance to have consequence-free phone sex with a complete stranger?

This could very well be the only time in your entire life you would have this thrilling opportunity, and you weren’t going to let it pass you by.

“I think so.” You could hear the man getting comfortable, the rustling of fabric faint in the background on his end. You wondered if it was him getting his cock out.

“Are you still touching yourself?”

“...Yes.” You’d slowed down after you’d been caught, but never fully stopped.

“Play with your clit for me.”

“O-okay.” It was a simple and vague instruction, but something that you could quickly comply with, given that your hand had barely moved from its earlier position. You resumed stroking it, noticing that you had gotten significantly wetter since you’d first picked up the phone. Not quite dripping, but enough to signify that you were definitely turned on by the situation you had found yourself in.

“Good girl.”

Fuck. Your hips jerked at the praise, and you bit your lip to hide your moan. But you clearly didn’t do a good job of it, because the man on the other end chuckled, the sound once again going straight to your pussy.

“Oh, did you like that?”

“Y-yes.” If you were of sound mind you would be embarrassed by how quickly this man had managed to reduce you to the stuttering mess you were now.

“Put the phone on speaker, and don’t even think about holding back any of those little noises.” You rush to comply, fumbling slightly with controlling your non-dominant hand.

“Done.”

“Good. Close your eyes.”

“...Okay.”

“Are you still touching your clit?” You hum in response.

“Just how fucking wet are you right now?”

You gasped, rhythm faltering. “Very.” Your voice is breathy, shaking as you stumble over the single word. “Fuck, please tell me something- anything. Wanna hear what you want.”

“Yeah?” You can now hear the distinct noise of him jerking off on the other end, and you’re certain he must be able to hear the sloppy noise your own movements are creating. “I wanna to fuck you so hard you won’t be walk right for a week, every movement you make a reminder of how much I fucking own you. You’re mine, got that? My little slut, just a fuck toy for me to fill up.”

You shuddered, turning your head against your pillow.

“You want that, want me to fill you up?”

“Yes, please, I want your cum, oh my god,” you’re mumbling, words you don’t truly mean but your brain is far too gone to think about the things you’re saying.

Plus, he’s just a stranger, someone you’ll never meet. You can say whatever you want, it doesn’t even matter.

“I wanna make you cum on my cock, feel your tight little pussy around me-fuck,” You wished, briefly, you knew what he looked like, so you could properly imagine him fisting his cock, the muscles in his arm straining as he made himself go faster, chasing his release.

“I want it, I want it, please,” You were just saying the same thing over and over again, too close to your climax to think of anything sexier to say.

“Are you gonna cum?” His voice was strained, almost muttered out.

“Yes, yes- please I need it, fuck-”

“Then do it. Cum for me like a good little girl.”

And with his permission, you comply, continuing your litany of curses and pleas as your back arches, your orgasm crashing through your body. Gasping, eyes and mouth open, continuing to touch yourself until your body screamed at you to stop from the overstimulation on your clit.

On his end, he lets out a long, low groan as he reaches his climax in the midst of your own. In the back of your mind you wish you were more present to fully enjoy the noise he’s made, to revel in the fact that you did that to a total stranger.

Once you both have come back down from your high, the line is silent. You have no idea what to say, how to even continue a conversation from here. For a moment you contemplate just hanging up and going to sleep, but he beats you to the chase with a line that turns your racing blood to ice.

“See you soon.”

___

ao3 link | part two

I feel like how to get started with this, I should just make a innocent quote's of my horror/slasher/DBD oc's

The ending was perfect *chef kiss*

Honestly it fits so well

Not so innocently

Poly! Billy and Stu x Male Reader

masterlist

AU; Where Billy and Stu haven't died at the end of Scream and Sidney come to a haunting realisation.

The night, to say it vaguely kindly, had been a turbulent one—sort of messy even—that was for sure.

Sidney felt as if she had either run a marathon or swimming through a endless pool—where she was constantly being weighed down—both being a exhausting doing. If did done such thing, but she hadn't, it simply only feels like it.

Running, dodging knives and fighting for her own survival against someone, she saw as a friend—love interest even, but only minimal on a level of having a silly crush—someone she trust, was not something to remotely be compared to running a marathon or the such.

Those are completely different things to do and while the both give the same kind of adrenaline and emotional feeling, they still differ in their very own way against another.

You could say; One of those task sparks a fiercely joy in you, while the other does not.

The blinking lights, be it red or blue or both even, were like a flashing which hurts her eyes, giving her pounding start of a headache.

Sidney was there physically but not mentally. Her mind going rabbit holes, backt to what happen during the last few hours of the night or early morning—whatever seemed more fit now, in terms of time.

The paramedics were treating her wounds. Giving a new burning sensation of strings once more, whenever they disinfecting or bandage it up. She couldn't help herself but to wince from. Sidney blinked, focusing back to her very surroundings as she gives the officers in front of her a confused glance.

«Miss Prescott, we asked if you're sure Billy Loomis and Stu Macher are the murders. Both boys had been injured as well, just as servers as you are. There is also a report of witnesses, saying they saw Ghostface killing Mr.Finchglee in front of his sweets shop.»

«So, we're asking again, to testify, are you absolutely certain it was them?»

Of course. Of course the police wouldn't believe her, a surviving victim of a murderous psychotic blood chase.

Billy and Stu are two clever boys, they know what they have to do, what they can do. Their having plans and backup plans, in case something like this—her survival—would happen.

They know how to master their Ghostface act and game perfectly.

Sidney only nodded, not trusting her voice—fearing it would crack from how hoarse it was, breathtaking screaming she did all night long—and she wouldn't be able to form proper sentences at all anymore, tongue numb and heavy weight in her mouth.

The officer just sighed, leaving her be when one of the paramedics chastised them away, for hindering their work of first aid.

They would have to question her again anyways in the next few days and Sidney wouldn't straight out say that the police in Woodsboro is fatally bad, but, they could've been far better in their job.

Taking a deep intake of the fresh chilly air, Sidney glanced ahead, admiring the trees. Leaves already turning into the brownish colours and with the upcoming sunrise, a pretty sight. Something so mundane, was calming for her troublesome mind.

Then she saw it, no. She saw them.

Billy and Stu standing by the trees in all their, bloody, glory. Patched up but the dried blood still present on their clothes. Just a few meters of walk away from her. Near enough to see their faces clearly, but far to not hear what they say to each other.

Sidney shallowed hard. Taking a sharp intake of breath. Heart thumping in her chest.

Fuck.

Stu leaned against Billy, arm causally as always slung over his shoulders, flashing her that silly boyish smile. Billy stood there, arms just a bit crossed, lopsided grin on his lips, head tilted to the side.

Billy was mocking her.

Tears begun to brim in Sidneys eyes, a slight burning to it. Trying to blink them away.

One try. One fucking chance of a try she had. To end it all, this absolute madness and all but in the end, Sidney failed miserably.

And then, when you came jogging towards them, clothed in nothing more than shorts and a oversized shirt, Sidney wanted to gag right here and now.

You acting so lovely with them— Billy holding your waist, pulling you towards him and kissing you—was like adding salt and vinegar to her wounds. How naïve could a human, could you, be?

Aren't the signs obvious enough already? Are you so blind with love, that you're not able see it? To think logically at all?

Billy and Stu are Killers! They are both Ghostface!

How can someone innocently and pure, like you, be in love—in a romantic relationship—with two absolute insane maddening killers?

Sidney felt like a crying now.

~~~

You came jogging towards Billy and Stu, letting them catch you as you didn't stop your speed and engulfed them into a hug. They might could disappear within the next second and to simply feel them; their bodies, their breathing and heartbeats, was like a anchorage for your mind—which fills itself with ever so rising anxiety.

Billy's grin turned into a more gentle one, taking his focus away from Sidney and giving you all his attention.

He leaned down, close enough to your lips to pull them with his teeth and nibbling on them. Giving you sweet long kiss, till your lips were slightly swollen.

You laid your head on Billy's shoulder, Stu hugging you two from behind placing his chin onto your heads.

«I still think we should have killed her.» said Billy, still a bit pissy about it. Sidney's death would have been the cherry on top of the delightful blood spree.

«No~ Letting her live is a far more better –»

«Why?» Stu interrupted you with his questions,

«Because, Stu honey, it is more fun to let your prey live. Ya know, playing with her pretty little mind, making her trap in it till she can't feel safe anywhere anymore without hearing our voices. It's a haunting she can't escape without turning mad herself. Perhaps we bring her into a suicide even.» a chuckle leaving your lips, eyes twinkling with glee, just thinking about it brought you delight and you start to hum a song.

«Aren't you a adorable little sadistic babe,» Billy pecked your cheek, finding a liking to your idea.

«Only sometimes.» you mused. Gripping Billys and Stus hand a bit tighter. Only sometimes you agreed with yourself.

You had almost lost your boyfriends tonight. If you hadn't switched out the patrons in the pistole, Sidney would have shot them dead without remorseful mercy. You couldn't let that happen.

«You did planned something else too, didn't you?» asked Stu, bending down just a bit to nuzzle his face into your neck. Patting his head.

«I did, I did, a little head start, something which add a certain aesthetic to it.»

You gave Sidney a smile.

~~~

Sidney's ears picked up a sound, it wasn't overall loud, just faint enough to understand it. When Sidney could clearly heard it, after straining her hearing, she never had whipped her head faster around. Scaring some of the poor paramedics.

I'm still standing, yeah yeah yeah.

Looking like a true survivor!

And I'm still standin' after all this time.

Sidney saw your smile. A smile which didn't looked so innocently at all anymore. With the rising sun, it looked more of a devilish sinister one.

And dear god. The song which was being played from whatever Car radio, was like a cruel joke. A mishap of fate.

Sidney didn't stop the tears. Having come to the bitter realisation that you are one of them. Your also a killer, just as insane as Billy an Stu.

A true survivor is what you are indeed.

When you partner is like Rhys~

Rhysand’s Kinks Headcannon

Warnings(s): smut obviously, choking, bondage, squirting, edging, exhibitionism, marking, daddy kink

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

-It was no secret that Rhysand was a sex god.

-He loved nothing more than edging you all night long, his fingers drumming against your clit feverishly, then stopping right when you were close. Right when he felt you clench around his fingers, signaling that you were about to let go. He could literally do this all night, but he’s too kind to ever torture you for that long. Give him your signature puppy eyes and he’ll let you cum.

-Even better than the latter, he loves to make you squirt. It’s physical proof that stays on the sheets all night that he truly pressed all the right buttons inside of you. Squirt in his face too, he’ll say “good girl” and let you choke on his dick.

-Exhibitionism. But, only in other courts. He adores having you sit on top of him, legs spread as he toys with your clit through your panties. (think that one scene in acomaf 👀) the shocked gasps and embarrassed looks from the other fae around fills his ego up even more, if that were even possible.

-Daddy kink. I will not accept anything less. This. Man. Is. Daddy. He’ll refer to himself that way, too. Saying things like “Does someone want daddy’s cock tonight?” “Want daddy to make your pretty pussy cum? Hmmm? Be a good girl.” If you call him that in public, good luck…he will take you in an alleyway pressed up against the brick.

-Bondage. Simple. He enjoys tying you up so that you can’t close your legs when he hits that sensitive part of your g-spot, or when he keeps licking your clit languidly even after you came.

-Choking. Nothing too intense, but he does think his large hand looks rather pretty like a necklace around your sensitive neck. He might just have a thing for necks in general, though. He loves kissing and sucking on your neck just as much as when you do it to him. And fuck…do those growls and moans he makes when you do it encourage you.

-Impact play. Again, nothing too intense. In fact, you’re the one who brought it up. You were being a tease, he called you naughty. You replied with “maybe you should punish me then. spank the brat out of me?” You could of swore you saw the feral horny look in his eyes illuminate. He was still hesitant to lay a hand on you like that, but when you moaned in pleasure and soaked your panties after his first little smack, he knew how much of a pain slut you were. Your safe word is wingspan.

-Marking. You belong to him, and he wants everyone to know that. Expect to have dark purple bruises all over your neck, tits, and in between your thighs. You swore that Rhys could make you cum just from sucking on your jugular…

He's baby

Brahms heelshire x male reader bc i love him

the news caught on the returning of a local modern noble and bombarded the gates and door asking questions about what is the caused of the return, this stresses brahms out by the sudden amount of people in his front door with leads to reader shooing the news folks off then comforting brahms by the sudden change.

Or hcs of how brahms would react to the news folks and if he reacts greatly with being a known noble now since coming out of hiding? How’s he gonna feel about paparazzi‘s when adjusting to society again? /i like to think reader is guilding him slowly into society again like a little trip to the park here and there, etc, so he doesn’t surprise or go to fast for brahms/

Sorry for the time again unu I hopeyou like this

Neither of you noticed the change that had taken place outside the Heelshire mansion, as you were immersed in the book Brahms was reading, in a clear and passionate voice.

The deep timbre of his voice soothed you greatly, to the point where you felt at an intermediate crossroads between the events of the book and the sensations of the real world. Brahms had long since discovered what your favorite book was, and whenever he sought to be even more pampered by you, he would read you your favorite passages in that voice that tickled your heart.

It was Brahms' hand touching your thigh softly that brought you back to the present moment, and you could finally perceive the commotion outside the place.

Brahms stilled suddenly, reacting to it as well, and his hands, now trembling and clumsy, put on the porcelain mask quickly, forbidding your eyes for an indefinite period of time to appreciate your beloved.

You looked at him in consternation, your mind racing to find an explanation for what was happening.

Finally, you decided to go out to investigate what it was all about, making sure that Brahms was well hidden behind the walls.

After hiding a razor in the sleeve of your shirt and kissing your boyfriend's dark curls, assuring him that everything would be all right, you plucked up the courage to go out...

Not expecting to run into a sea of screaming reporters, demanding an answer about Brahms' current condition, taking pictures that dazzled you, and pushing the limits of civilized socializing.

"The man who was in the room earlier, was that Brahms?" your stomach cringed at these words, for it was clear that he had been seen, there was no point in hiding his presence, and lying about his identity could have been worse.

"What happened after all this time? Who are you?" asked a red-haired woman with the widest and greediest eyes you had ever seen.

"Can we talk to him? He's front-page news," a man who was barely trying to look friendly in your eyes with his feet firmly planted in anticipation of getting through.

"The great Heelshire heir on his return from the dead, the question is not if you're going to let us in, but how long" that tall, strong woman looked capable enough to pull you aside to get her scoop. You swallowed hard.

That kaleidoscope of eager and hungry faces was making you nauseous, but you couldn't leave Brahms at the mercy of such predators. You didn't doubt their curiosity, nor that, in fact, your man's story would be fascinating to the local public, but you did doubt how they would treat him, how they would portray him to the world, and, above all, whether Brahms could even bear their overwhelming presence.

"He won't answer anything and I don't know the story, so there's nothing to see here, I'm sorry," you said firmly but without wanting to be aggressive or rude. Still, this did not sit well with the small crowd, as they were only more insistent on wanting to go in and get the answers for themselves.

"Are you his legal guardian? His boyfriend? Are you connected to his parents' disappearance?"

"Are you aware that he could be a murderer?"

"What are you going to do with all that money?"

Those questions, increasingly invasive, felt like hard blows to the peace that had previously reigned in that bubble away from the world, and of course, the malicious nature of them all made you furious.

"This is private property, so if you don't want to be fined or arrested for trespassing, I suggest you go away and leave us alone" you made yourself heard, more threatening than firm this time, but still, those persistent people seemed to have turned a deaf ear.

"Get the fuck out!" you shouted at the top of your lungs, struggling with the door to close it, pushing away hands and feet until you heard the exclamations of astonishment and felt that familiar body heat behind your back.

"Brahms! An interview! Talk to us! Are you going to jail?" and with his body tense in a way you had never seen before, Brahms slammed the door shut, pinching jackets and fingernails that ended the mess.

"Shit," you whispered again, aware of how much the privacy and your boyfriend's well-being were at risk.

With those same trembling hands, Brahms grabbed hold of your arms, collapsing on top of you, trembling between sobs, soaked with fear.

"My love," you whispered, heartbroken at Brahms' vulnerability and fear.

Without letting go of his hand, you insisted on carrying him to the bathroom, where you knew perfectly well that no one would have access. After taking care of Brahms, you would call Malcolm to have security cameras placed on the property, whatever it took to keep out the press and other curious onlookers.

Your priority now was your boyfriend crying on the spotless bathroom floor, terrified of what they might do to him.

With extreme care, you removed his mask, being able to watch those thick tears run down his cheeks.

"They're coming back, for me" and hearing that come from his lips made your world crumble. You couldn't stand to see him like this.

"I won't leave them, and you know it. I'll do whatever I have to do to keep them from seeing you, so they never get to you and know nothing" you promised, holding his face in your hands, looking for those beautiful blue eyes to look at you.

"You are the most important thing to me, Brahms, I will not let anything or anyone hurt you or separate you from my side, do you hear me?"

And the intensity of your words, the conviction with which you uttered each one and that determined and furious look, convinced him instantly. You were his man, so strong and sure, his knight in shining armor.

"Y/N...I love you" and he kissed you, in that awkward, passionate, emotion-filled way so characteristic of him.

Inside, you were terrified, devising a thousand and one plans so that that hidden nest would not remain exposed, but feeling that kiss, that beard against your face, those curls caressing your cheeks, you knew that you would be able to do anything to keep him safe and experience again those sensations, the most pleasurable of your life, until the world would be extinguished.

Y'all have a fine ass meal today

Mirrored Eyes and Temper

Prompt: Soulmate AU, your soulmate has one eye that is the color of their soulmate and one of their regular eyes. The eye colors shift one puberty onsets for one. Their eyes switch colors back after they meet and complete the bond. They can also feel each other's emotional states.

Pairing: loki Laufyson X Male!reader

Request: NO

Author's note: the writing will be weird, trying out a new style and trying to change things up a bit. Its sorta 3rd person but also not, idk we’ll learn together. as always enjoy and don't forget to repost if. they maybe a part 2, idk though

Warnings: swearing I think, maybe some angst. Canon divergence

word count: 4.6k

Not proofread

Loki POV:

Loki his entire life was always acquainted with multiple eye colors, with him being a shapeshifter and constantly playing tricks around the palace with the staff, his brother, and his brother's friends. Blue, green, gray, brown, yellow, purple, whatever color he could think of his eyes could shift to when he was changing form. Somedays, he just changed his eyes, others he would change his entire appearance or to another species. Whatever suited his fancy for the day. Most days he stayed in his normal Asgardian form, green eyes, porcelain skin, black hair and went about his days. For several hundred years, both of his eyes were one color so when he woke up with one eye normal and the other one gray he was confused. This confusion hit him 2 fold about 20 minutes later when he was sitting at his desk and felt dread, followed by embarrassment for an unknown reason.

‘By the gods, this is going to be a nuisance.’ Loki thought as he rolled his eyes and left for the dining hall. As he sat down he wished his mother a good morning and started to make his plate of food. His mother noticed his change in demeanor and asked what was different. He sighed and explained that he got his soul bond and was mirroring the emotions of his bonded. His mother nodded understandingly then changed the topic to the lessons they were to have that day.

Growing up he was taught about the soulmate clause that dictated when a person was in the adolescent stage, one eye would change to match their soul's other half and that they would be able to feel the emotions of the other half. He hit puberty about 200 years ago and was well into his “adult years” (roughly 20 years in midgarden years). He tried to change his eye color using his magic, only for one eye to remain gray.

(y/n) POV

When (y/n) was in elementary school he took a class that taught kids about “soulmate bonds” and how important they are. The Soulmate bonds dictate that as a kid comes of age, one eye will change to match their Soul’s bonded mate (using the term mate lightly) and it will only change back when they finally meet and make eye contact. The soul bond would also allow the other to feel the emotions of their bonded. (y/n)'s eyes were always one solid gray color until one morning sometime in junior high. He woke up and went to the bathroom after grabbing a towel and looked towards the mirror and froze in his spot. One of his eyes was a light green with a swirl of a sort of various colors to it, like it was dipped in an oil spill. He blinked and rubbed his eyes in disbelief, as if it was just a trick and shook his head. When he looked back in the mirror he saw that the eye that was once gray was still green. He took a deep breath and took his shower before going and getting dressed then going downstairs to join his mother, father and 2 brothers. He sat at the table and said his good mornings before working on making his cereal

‘Be cool. If I don't say anything, mom won't notice.’ (y/n) thought as he started eating. His mom pressed a kiss on his head as she sat down. He continued to try and evade his mom’s sight. When his older brother's eye shifted she got super excited and started fussing over him and doting on much more, something (y/n) wanted to avoid. A couple years behind his brothers in age, he knew it was coming and he dreaded it. He was lost in thought when he heard his father (y/n)l his name. Snapping his head up, (y/n) looked toward his father and internally cursed himself as his mother let out a joyful screech.

“My baby finally got his soulmate eye match! It’s a special day! Come, let mom see it.” His mom said and he sighed and looked at her.

“It's not that special, Wyatt and Elijah got theirs already. “ (y/n) said as he stood from the table and went to leave the room.

“ ‘not that special?’ what do you mean not that special. It's the day my baby boy will become a man.” His mother fussed and flicked his forehead playfully. His brothers snickered and sped out the door before they could receive the mom look. (y/n) groaned and blinked in disbelief.

“Mom, I have to get to school.” (y/n) said as he stood up, finishing his bowl, moving towards the door. She sighed and let him go.(y/n) decided he wouldn’t look for his soulmate and focused on his schooling and getting into a good job.

It wasn't until he was in his tech engineering class in his 1st year of highschool that he got a hall pass to use the restroom. As he was washing his hands, he noticed that his eye had changed from the green oil spill like eye he was used to, to an icy blue with patches of yellow. He seemed to be caught in some sort of a trance as he watched the eye change color. It was like watching food dye mix with water, going from blue, to brown, to multiple shades of yellows and oranges then purple before settling back down on its original color. He decided to start wearing a patch over his eye to hide the color that seemed to change everyday to avoid questions

(y/n) graduated highschool in the top 5% of his school and got a full ride to Stark Industries and became an engineering tech, working with Tony Stark personally and becoming somewhat of a personal advisor for the Avengers, regarding equipment tune ups and maintenance. Over the years he felt a very slight hint of annoyance in his daily life and distaste. He was mainly able to ignore this and continue working. One day he was off duty and just relaxing in his room and felt a wave of terror and anger rip through him suddenly, knocking the breath from his lungs. He quickly rushed to the mirror to see if the eye would help give him an idea of what was happening. When he looked in the mirror he noticed the eye that was ever changing, one solid red color. (y/n) was in shock when he noticed that the skin just lining the eye, maybe an inch around was blue, and cold to the touch. He watched as it shifted back to his normal skin tone and watched as the eye changed back, with the red undertone now present, no matter the change in color. He vowed to never let anyone see the eye to avoid the questions that would come with it.

(y/n) was 23 when he fully became a tech for the avengers and moved out his moms house and into the compound, with his own fully furnished room and access to the lab to work with Tony and Bruce. Tony claimed it was because it was safer than living in an apartment complex, (y/n) didn’t see the reasoning behind it but complied, thrilled about not having to pay rent. Tony asked about the eyepatch, comparing him to Fury (which (y/n) didn’t understand since he never met Fury.) and giving him the nickname “Captain (y/n)”, which annoyed (y/n) immensely but he learned to deal with it. Whenever Tony tried to ask (y/n) about the patch, (y/n) said he was in an accident that caused him to lose his eye growing up. Tony knew this was bullshit but never pushed the topic again after he kept pestering (y/n) about it and was snapped at by Pepper for not respecting (y/n)’s boundaries.

Things went smoothly after that and (y/n) was thankful for it. He continued to work like nothing happened and it was smooth sailing for a few more years after that. Until Thor came back from Asgard with news. His brother was sentenced to live on midgard with limits on his powers, as punishment for his crimes committed during the Battle of New York. The team was on the fence until Thor explained he would have very limited power and Hiemdall would have an eye on him at all times. This calmed the team down a bit and the move started. Tony had the room down the hall from (y/n) renovated and refitted for Loki. The date was set for one month's time on midgard for Loki to be moved in.

One morning (y/n) was getting dressed and watching his eye with interest as it swirled with color when he heard a knock on his door. He sighed and slipped his eyepatch on and worked on braiding his hair to keep it out of the way, ignoring the knock at the door. The knock came again and he let out a low grunt then looked at the clock, 8:39 am.

“Just a moment.” He called as he finished up the braid and adjusted the eyepatch again. The knocking persisted. He growled a bit as he slipped his shoes on and made his way to the door. Swinging it open, he looked at the person on the other side.

“What? I’m a little fucking busy right now.” (y/n) snapped and glared at the person

“No need for the attitude, (y/n). You woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning? Anyway, I wanted to remind you that Loki will be here around 1ish today.” Tony said as he shot (y/n) a shit eating grin, which caused (y/n) to roll his eyes.

“No, you interrupted my routine. Thank you for the reminder. I was about to head down to the lab anyway. Will you be joining me?” (y/n) asked as he moved past Tony, closing the door.

“When am I not in the lab? Of course I’ll be there. Blueberry?” Tony retorted and shook the bag in (y/n)’s direction. (y/n) let a small smile slip and accepted some from Tony as they talked about the new project they would be working on as they walked to the lab. Once they got to the lab, (y/n) shrugged off his overshirt, leaving him in a black, thick strapped tank top and rolled his shoulders, showing off his tattoos. He had one tattoo that spanned the length of his arm. It was a black and white tattoo of a snake skeleton and crows skull that ended at his wrist and shoulder (the crow skull framing his shoulder) . He had a few small pieces that ranged from his mom's name on his chest and a death head moth on his other shoulder. He made sure his hair was out of the way before getting to work on improving some of the team's gear (mainly Natasha’s widow bites and figuring out a better collapsing system for Clint’s bow) and various other gear that needed upgrading. After tinkering with the gear he started helping with the project Tony was working on. He got lost in the project until JARVIS announced Thor would be arriving soon. Tony looked at (y/n) and decided it would be a good idea to take a break so he could greet Thor. (y/n) told Tony to go ahead and would see if he could make some progress with the coding and the plating in the new suit Tony was working on. Tony nodded and left (y/n) to work.

A few hours (y/n) managed to figure out that there was a small spot in the coding that caused the program to crash and moved on to fixing the plates that seemed to get stuck when the suit was shifting. (y/n) removed the patch so he could see the plates better. He started to work on it for a while before getting frustrated and called it quits. (y/n) threw the screwdriver in frustration and cringed as it clattered on the floor. He sighed and went to grab it when he felt eyes on him. He looked up and saw Bruce standing there, watching him. (y/n)’s eyes widened as he scrambled to grab the eye patch.

“Shit, fuck. Bruce, you can’t say anything to anyone.” (y/n) said as he slid it back in place and put the screwdriver on the table.

“I won’t tell anyone. But answer me this. Why hide your eye? Having a soulmate connection isn’t something to be ashamed of y’know.” Bruce said as he made his way in the room. (y/n) sighed and sat down on the stool that was behind him

“I’m not ashamed of it. I hid it because I wanted to focus on my life. I don’t want to be bothered with people asking why it was constantly changing and that it never seemed to stay a single color.” (y/n) said as he looked at Bruce, deflating a bit. Bruce nodded in understanding and held a hand out to (y/n), a silent agreement to keep it quiet. (y/n) grabbed his hand and Bruce spoke up again.

“Tony told me you would still be here, said to tell you that dinner would be done soon and he wants you there.” Bruce said as he took a step back. (y/n) rolled his head, his neck popping as he stood back up.

“He has JARVIS and yet he sends someone to collect me. No offense Bruce.” (y/n) said as he walked towards his shirt, grabbed it and led Bruce out of the lab, locking it behind him.

“None taken. I’m pretty sure Tony does that to annoy you.” Bruce said with a little humor in his tone.

“Not surprising, it works.” (y/n) said as he shook his head and started towards the common area. As (y/n) entered the room he saw Thor, Nat, Clint and Steve lounging around the room.

“Good evening everyone. I am gonna shower then I’ll be back. As you can see, I am gross” (y/n) said as he motioned to his grease coated arms, stained clothes, and messy hair. Everyone made some motion in acknowledgement and Thor stood up to greet (y/n).

“Brother (y/n)! After you bathe, would you bring Loki here for dinner?” He asked/ exclaimed as He pulled (y/n) in a bear hug. (y/n) didn’t move, exhausted.

“I can try, but no promises.” (y/n) said after Thor let go, immediately moving toward his room. After he entered his room and locked his door, he removed his eyepatch and grabbed a towel. He stripped down and went to the bathroom to shower, glancing in the mirror. He was taken aback that his eye was a soft green, the red undertone a little less visible. After about half an hour of scrubbing and rescrubbing he felt like he had gotten all the grime off and got out, wrapped the towel around his waist and went to his closet and pulled out a pair of jeans and a simple black shirt. He dried himself off and got dressed then worked on drying his hair before pulling it back in a very loose braid, rebraiding the teal ribbon into his hair in support of her fight against her ovarian cancer. He hadn’t seen his mom in a while but called regularly and learned her cancer had come back. After he was satisfied with his appearance he slipped on a clean, maroon colored eyepatch and ventured out into the hall and knocked on the door down the hall to his and waited for it to open

After a bit, he knocked again, a bit harder and waited. He was stunned when the door opened and he saw the god before him. Then suddenly his eye stung a bit and he got a pounding headache. (y/n) played it off and told Loki that dinner was ready and tried to put some distance between them. Loki grabbed his arm and stared at him, eyes squinted.

“The eyepatch, What is it for?” Loki asked as he took in (y/n)’s appearance fully.

“I had an accident as a kid, lost my eye as a result. Now let's get moving. Don’t want them to think you murdered me, or whatever”. (y/n) said as he noticed one of Loki’s eyes was the same shade of gray his eye was. He panicked internally and removed his arm away and basically sprinted down the hall. Loki watched as (y/n) put distance between them and followed behind him, all the more curious.

This continued for months. (y/n) staying away from Loki while not secluding himself. (y/n) decided he needed to talk to Bruce. One evening he knocked on Bruce's door and waited for Bruce to open up. Bruce invited him in and they sat down.

“I am gonna say something and I need you to not freak out or get upset.” (y/n) said as he took the eyepatch off and set it on the bedside in Bruce's room. Bruce nodded and looked at (y/n) to continue.

“I think Loki is supposed to be my soulmate.” (y/n) said and dropped his head as another headache came on. Bruce’s mouth fell agape as he looked at (y/n)

“Are you sure?” Was all that Bruce could muster. (y/n) nodded as a tear fell from the pounding in his head. Bruce sat next to (y/n) and pulled him into a gentle hug and offered to get him some meds for his head and (y/n) nodded, unable to speak. Bruce got up and went to collect some pain meds for (y/n). All of the sudden (y/n) was in severe pain and his eye burned like the fires of hell as he collapsed on the ground, world going black

(y/n) opened his eyes and blinked at the harsh white lights as he tried to sit up, his head throbbing. He was immediately pushed back down as someone stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. The next thing he was aware of he had a wider visual field and quickly placed a hand over his face, feeling for his patch. It wasn’t there. (y/n) panicked and started looking for it.

“It’s not here, don’t freak out. You do have some explaining to do though” Tony’s voice rang out, stern. (y/n) shrunk into the cot, as if he was being scolded for being caught stealing something.

“Yeah, I know.” (y/n) said as his eyes adjusted to the room. Once (y/n) sat up, he asked JARVIS to have Bruce bring his eyepatch, feeling out of place without it. A couple seconds later JARVIS sent back that Bruce was on route. Tony sat up and looked at (y/n). (y/n) refused to make eye contact with Tony, knowing that the genius man would be able to figure out that he was hiding more than he let on. The two men sat in an uncomfortable silence and Tony kept quiet for once while (y/n) was gathering his thoughts.

Once (y/n) gathered his thoughts and got his story straight he told Tony everything from the eye changing colors to talking to Bruce because he caught him without it before dinner (He left out the suspicion of Loki being his soulmate, spare Tony the heart attack). He took a break when Bruce came in to hand the eyepatch to him and asked how (y/n) was feeling. (y/n) gave him a hand motion that signaled he was fine but also still in some pain. Bruce immediately understood and went to get some pain killers for (y/n). Bruce excused himself so he could inform the team that (y/n) was ok.

After Bruce left, Tony looked at (y/n) again, thoughts whirring.

“The fainting spells, are those new?” Tony asked as he stood up. (y/n) rolled his eyes and sent a frown in Tony’s direction. (y/n) swung his legs over the bed and worked on standing up. Tony rushed over to support (y/n) as he attempted to stand. (y/n)’s legs were wobbly but he stood up and got his bearings. He adjusted his clothing and made sure his ribbon was in place.

“Yes. This hasn’t happened before. How long was I out?”

“Only an hour or so. You scared Bruce to death and had everyone worried, including Loki, which was a bit strange, but whatever. Let's go get some food for you. That should help.” Tony said as he walked with (y/n) to the kitchen in the common area. As soon as he stepped in the room, Peter ran up and hugged him.

“(y/n)! We were all worried about you, even Ms.Natasha. Even if she says she wasn’t. What happened?” Peter asked as he pulled out of the hug. (y/n) walked to the kitchen and made himself something quick to eat and looked back towards peter.

“Don’t worry about me, spiderkid. Things are good. Low blood sugar is all” (y/n) lied to him, to put him at ease

“No, don’t bullshit me. What happened?” Peter said, frown settling deep on his face.

“Truthfully, I don’t know. I was talking with someone and the next second I was waking up in Medbay.” (y/n) said between bites of his food. (y/n) didn’t know it but Loki was lurking in the back of the room, watching and gauging his body language to look for signs of deceit. (y/n)’s whole body showed signs of deception and it interested Loki further.

After (y/n) ate and chatted with the team, he excused himself for the night and left to relax and get some rest, on Tony’s request (hypocrite). As (y/n) looked towards the mirror, he saw his eye was now a deep red, then a feeling not unlike guilt and grief racked through his body as slipped off his shirt, shoes, and pants before slipping into bed and fell asleep, exhausted from the day.

Loki POV:

Loki had been in this place for all of 3 hours before someone came knocking on his door, demanding attention. He ignored it, hoping it would go away. When the knocking persisted he got up and opened the door. Loki was met with a look of shock and the feeling of astonishment in his gut as this mortal looked at him. Why astonishment? He wasn’t sure. Loki watched as The man in front of him winced and tried to play it off.

“The eyepatch, what is it for?” he asked, curious. He scanned the Males appearance, long hair pulled back into a loose braid with a teal ribbon threaded into the separate lock that was then braided into a big braid, maroon colored eyepatch, plain black shirt and jeans with some boots on the bottom.

“I had an accident as a kid, lost my eye as a result. Now let's get moving. Don’t want them to think you murdered me, or whatever”.” The man said as he put space between the two of them. Loki watched as the man scurred down the hall and out of sight as he felt a sense of panic that fluttered through his chest.

Several months went by as Loki adjusted to the climate of the tower, dealing with the slightly hostile environment. Most of the time he just stayed in his room, coming out to receive food and bring back his plates, which he washed (he's not a monster. He understands he is a guest, just not by will). Most of the time he spends reading, practicing his very limited magic or sharpening his dagger and tidying his room up. He also learned the man's name. He can say in his opinion the name “(y/n)” fits well for him.

One night as he was reading a book that was on the shelf when he felt a pain rip from his chest and he rushed to the door and tried his teleportation into (y/n)’s room. He felt the earth shift and suddenly he was in (y/n)’s room. He quickly looked around for (y/n), not taking the time to take in the room. He grunted out of frustration and rushed out and into the common room.

Thor stood up and greeted Loki. “Brother what can I do for you?” Thor asked and he wrapped an arm around Loki’s shoulder.

“No time for pleasantries. Where is (y/n)? I have a suspicion that he is hurt?” Loki said, shrugging off Thor's arm and scanned the room.

“I am not sure, let's ask around.” Thor said as he put his arm down and looked up towards the ceiling. “JARVIS, where is Brother (y/n)?”

“(y/n) is in the Medical bay, he is currently in a comatose state for about 15 minutes” JARVIS reported back. Loki’s eyes widened and he rushed off towards the med bay. He was close to rushing in when he saw Tony and Bruce sitting by the cot and he quickly ducked back behind the corner and listened.

“I don’t know what happened Tony, (y/n) came to talk to me about something and he said he had a headache. He asked me to grab him some pain meds if I had any, which we both know I always do for the days I end up hulking out on mission. So I went to grab him some and suddenly he was unconscious on the floor. I panicked and (y/n)led you.” Bruce said as he stood up. Loki tried to use his cloaking and slip into the room. He stayed in the corner and watched the scene unfold, while keeping an eye on (y/n)’s unconscious body.

After Tony and Bruce finished their conversation, they both left and Loki slowly slinked over to the bed and placed a hand on (y/n)’s. A strange tingling sensation once their hands connected. Loki stood there for a minute before turning and stopping in his tracks as Tony rounded the corner.

“Well, hiya reindeer games, what are you doing in here? You hurt or something?” Tony asked, not noticing Loki’s hand touching (y/n)’s. Loki stepped back and walked towards the door

“No, I was looking for (y/n). I will be taking my leave now.” Loki said with a slight snarl in his tone as he exited the room. Once he was out of sight he teleported back into his room for a while. Eventually he made his way to the common area to collect dinner. For once he was sitting in the back of the room while he ate. He heard (y/n) and Tony walk in and watched as Peter got up and rushed to (y/n), asking what happened. (y/n) lied and Loki couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty, like it had something to do with him.

Loki sat there and listened to the conversation flow between the team before (y/n) called it a night and disappeared down the hall. quickly and quietly Loki took his leave and went down the hall towards his room, stopping for a sec by (y/n)’s room. He planned on knocking and checking in on him but decided against it and retired to his room for the night. He spent most of the night thinking about what happened before he drifted off to a restless sleep.