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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 3 years

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A Siren Song

Pairing: Robert Dubois/ Bloodsport x Reader

A/N: so I just finished watching the new Suicide Squad for the second time and I’m even more obsessed now than I was the first time I watched it. It’s a brilliant film with actually good humor, a non-sexualizing and actually empowering view on Harley Quinn (that leg scene?? y'all-), the rats?? Rat-catcher 2?? THE SHARK?? FLAG?? Who looked really good in this movie, he might be another contender for a story as well as Harley Quinn so lmk ;) but Bloodsport immediately piqued my interest because it’s Idris Elba and he’s gorgeous, I loved the complexities of his character and I want to write for him and no one else has done it yet?? so shoutout to @honey-im-emotional for the support and push to do it! also love The Bodyguard movie, helped with the inspo <3 and i’m so sorry all of my stories are similar but I HAVE A TYPE enjoy and feedback is always appreciated loves and there will be SPOILERS so be warned, also if you want a Harley one next lmk ;) (it’s so long I’m so sorry lol)

Summary: You’re a highly targeted member of the royal family, the last in your line. Bloodsport is hired to be your bodyguard to both watch and assassinate the men after you. He believes it’s below his pay-grade, but reluctantly agrees, doing so to the best of his abilities. But the closeness brings more intimacy than you two expected, and sparks fly.

Warnings: foul language, sexual content, smut, choking, light bdsm, fluffy fluff, dirty dancing, dirty talk, violence and bad guys getting murdered, mentions of Harley x Reader (y’all sexy dance and kiss), reader likes women, dom! Bloodsport, age gap, alcohol consumption, jealousy, heavy kissing, slight angst, just a good time honestly

Word Count: 3,825

You dangle from the ceiling with your aerial silk, fitting your leg in the loop you’ve created, and dangling upside down. The rope wraps around your waist as you hang gracefully from your marble walls, flying. Your friend Harley Quinn taught you how to do this years ago, it now being your favorite form of exercise and relaxation when you need a moment to clear your head.

As you lightly spin, twirling and dancing in the air with your chandelier reflecting light everywhere, a dazzling fairy floating in a sea of stars. You hear footsteps approach and move to hang upside down, facing towards the grand door. Robert Dubois, a.k.a Bloodsport, walks forward to stand directly in front of you.

You have known him a few weeks or so now, him having to watch your every move and tracking down your family’s killers. He stands and meets your eyes as you dangle, hair falling below you.

“Hi,” you giggle, face flushed with heat. “I probably look ridiculous right now.”

He composes himself so he doesn’t crack a smile, but you see his lips twitch when he speaks, “No, Mrs. y/l/n.”

“I have a first name, you know,” you grin widely. “I’m younger than you, which hardly warrants such a professional title.”

“My apologies, y/n,” he fixes himself.

“It’s alright,” you ease, filling him with a sense of softness he hasn’t felt in a long time. You flip and land on your feet, letting go of your silks.

You don’t notice as his eyes glaze over your body in your sports bra and shorts, something his cold, calculated stare should never succumb to, but he does anyway and he kicks himself for doing it. You’re his client and should therefore remain as such, no conflict of interest or thoughts other than to protect. He didn’t want this job, hell, he still doesn’t know why he said yes. Maybe it was the money. Or maybe it was upon seeing you that first time, in that star-studded gown the night of a charity gala you were attending, the way the diamond littered fabric hung over your figure, absolutely dazzled. The way you looked at him and smiled, like you were used to with all the other nobles and adoring fans. But he let himself believe it was different.

He can’t do that anymore, however, because he can’t allow for any complications. And falling for his boss is certainly a complication.

You look at him and your eyes widen with realization, “Oh, I’m sorry. Let me cover up.”

You grab a tee shirt and toss it over your exercise clothes. He looks down as you do so and clears his throat. This brings a small smile to your face.

“You called me in here,” he gestures to the necklace charm hanging around your neck that you can squeeze and send an instant distress signal whenever you need it. “What can I do for you, y/n?”

“Wanted you to spot me,” you tease, a smile overtaking your delicate features. You have a sort of stunning beauty about you that takes him by surprise every time he lays eyes on you. Which is often. You lay on your yoga mat and sit up straight with that same damned smile.

“I’m here to do a job, y/n,” he says, his deep, honeyed voice coating the way he says your name like heat to sugar. “Not aid you in your workout routine.”

“What? Your assassin training didn’t include sit ups?” you smile, tongue in cheek.

“No, but if you need a way to kill a man with a book,” he presses a foot over both of yours as you begin to do sit ups. “Then I’m your man.”

“Yeah, you and John Wick,” you breathe out with a laugh. “And shouldn’t you be in here watching me already? Not by the door?”

“This room has no windows and no other door or entrance besides the one I was standing by. I thought you would want privacy,” he averts your gaze. “I’m sure it’s a hard thing to come by these days for a woman like yourself.”

You stop what you’re doing and look up at him, blinking, “Well, you’d be right,” you tuck your hair back. “So thank you.”

He meets your eyes, bordering on a smile, “You’re welcome.”

“Is that a smile I see?” you chuckle.

The smile shines, “It was a diversion. And you failed.”

You laugh loudly, “Will the next diversion be an actual laugh?”

“Wouldn’t be a proper diversion if you knew what it was.”

You tap his feet so he’ll get the hint and let you up. You rise to your feet and dust yourself up, “I appreciate your spotting.” You press a hand to his chest and hum. Warmth radiates from your palm and he inhales sharply. “For someone who wasn’t trained, you sure are a fast learner.”

He looks at your hand and back to your eyes, heat sprouting from where your hand touches. His hand flexes at his side as he looks around the room, to the door, seeing if it’s closed.

“I-” he cocks an eyebrow then settles. “I think I should go.”

He watches you look at him with wounded eyes, brow lowered, you open your mouth then close it.

You nod, moving away from him, “Right.”

You move to walk away when he stops you, mouth by your ear, voice dropping an octave when he whispers, “Just so you know-” you tilt your head up almost instinctively to hear him better. “-my assassin training did include reminding people who they are when they’ve forgotten their place.”

You look up at him fully now, “You work for me, remember?”

“I work for money. And you didn’t hire me. I was employed by Mrs. Waller to keep you alive,” he cocks his head slightly.

“So it would be frowned upon by her when you’re unable to walk if you touch me like that again.”

You couldn’t believe he had just said that. Your eyes widen and your cheeks once again heat up, blushing. Your chest gets hot when he doesn’t break the stare like he’s calling your bluff, and fuck, did he do just that. You turn away from him.

You can hear the smile in his voice, “That’s what I thought.”

~~~

“Robert said that!?” Harley exclaims, eyes wide. Her jaw is dropped as she does her mascara aggressively in the mirror. “He’s usually so...”

You tug down your tiny halter top over your head, your bright, flattering makeup complementing the colorful swirling pattern, “An empty void with no emotion?”

She nods emphatically, agreeing, “Exactly! I had no idea he had it in him?” she raises her brow and smooths down her leather black and red dress, “Or that he wanted to put it in you-”

You slap her arm, chastising, “You don’t know that. It might have been a threat to actually paralyze me in a very not sexual way.”

“I say both are arousing,” she shrugs, platinum curls bouncing.

You roll your eyes with a small smile aimed at the floor, “Anyway-” you slip a belt through your tight jeans, hitting at your waist when you cinch it in. “We should get going if we want to get to the club on time.”

She pauses. “Y/n. Are you sure we should be doing this?”

You do a double take, “You’re telling me that we shouldn’t sneak out and have a good time?”

“I know the irony is apparent,” she looks at you with a knowing stare. “But not if it means you’re in danger. Which you are.”

“I know,” you frown. “But I’ve been locked in this house for months, I miss going out and having a life. I’m tired of being coddled.”

“I know, sweetheart,” she sighs, looking past herself in the mirror to flash me a sympathetic smile. She thinks for a beat and finally spins around, “Alright, screw it, doll, let’s go paint the town.”

You buzz with excitement, grinning, “Yay! Thank you, thank you! I wonder who will be djaying...” you trail off.

Harley’s face falls and her mouth goes in a solid, straight line, looking past your shoulder, “I don’t think anyone will be.”

You laugh, completely oblivious, “Of course there will be. There has to be music. Dancing in silence would be pretty fucking awkward.”

“This moment is pretty fucking awkward.”

“What do you mean?”

A deep, irritated voice sounds off behind you, “Because you’re not going.”

You jump out of your skin, “Shit, Robert! You scared the hell out of me!”

“You’re not going to that club,” he folds his arms over his chest. You look over him and his casual, night wear: a loose tee and low hanging joggers. You almost wipe your mouth from salivating. Your outfit elicits the same reaction.

You pinch your eyebrows together, “You can’t tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I can. I’m tasked with protecting you.”

“Yeah. And nowhere on your job description does it say ‘become my parent’. There’s not an opening now just because I don’t have one. I am a grown ass woman and I have been a prisoner in my own home. The same home where...” you pause, a lump in your throat at the reminder of your family’s passing. You shake it off, “I’m just tired. I want a piece of my life back. You can either stay here or come. Either way I’m going.”

He gives you a quick once over and contemplates his options before dropping his arms to his sides and letting out a long exhale.

“Fine.”

You somewhat relax at his defeated tone, “Fine, what?”

He relents, “You can go, but I’m coming with you. But if anything happens to you, I’m not to be blamed. I will leave your ass in that club.”

You grin and jump up to give him a tight hug around the neck. He stiffens before slowly rubbing your back. You sink into his embrace, feeling like you were floating in water, now above the surface as he brings you back to oxygen. Harley smiles at the exchange and she winks theatrically.

He glares.

It’s not long before you three arrive at the club, music blaring and colorful lights flashing over the crowded floors. From his stare and intimidating aura, the club staff thought he was a bouncer and let you all in immediately. But before he was roped into working, the three of you bee-lined to the bar.

“The prettiest and strongest drink ya got, sugar,” Harley smiles at the pretty bartender.

“And what if that’s me?” she responds, ebony hair falling onto one shoulder.

“Then I’ll have to drink you later,” Harley gives her a flirty once over and you roll your eyes.

The bartender grins and gestures towards me for my order, I answer quickly, “Scotch on the rocks.”

Robert looks at you, poorly covering his shocked expression. “Really?”

“Yeah, why?” you look up at him.

“Didn’t peg you for a straight liquor type, Ms. y/l/n,” he finally lets his hidden laugh show through, butterflies erupting in your chest. The diversion definitely worked, whatever you were thinking about before this has immediately left you.

“Then this is going to be the first surprise of many tonight, Mr. Dubois,” you return the smug look as he orders the same thing. You both share a look.

The bartender slides you all your drinks, each of you taking a long swig for liquid courage for the night. Harley’s favorite Doja Cat song comes on and she gasps, clapping excitedly when she grabs you by the wrist, pulling you on the dance floor, “Come dance with me.”

You mouth a small ‘sorry’ to Bloodsport who you left at the bar, he shakes his head with a smile over the rim of his glass, watching you guys’ drinks.

She dances wildly, jumping up and down, spinning to let her hair fall in many beautiful angles. She’s a powerful force and your greatest friend. She puts her arms around your neck and the two of you move in time with the music.

“So...” she motions to Bloodsport who’s being forced into a conversation with a woman at the bar. The woman puts her hand on his and he visibly shrinks back and whispers something to her that causes the most horrid look from the woman and for her to walk quickly away. You smile at the relief that interaction has brought you.

“So what?” you spin her around and pull her back.

“Quit with the good dancing, or I’m gonna fuck you myself,” she teases with a lightheaded giggle.

You smile, “We’ve tried that already, remember?”

“Too much history, I know, I know. Doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice...” she whispers into your neck, kissing the soft spot under your chin. Your skin heats up under her touch as she drags her hands down your sides, pulling you close to her so that you’re flush against her chest.

You give into her and kiss her slowly, her soft lips melt into your own when her hands tug in your hair. Harley and you have always had a complicated friendship, with enough sexual attraction to fuel a nuclear bomb, but not enough romantic. You love each other but not in the way you both need. You were in love with Robert and she is continuing to explore her sexuality because she likes women and so do you. So as she trails her hot mouth down your neck in the middle of dozens of bustling bodies and you lock eyes with an angry Bloodsport, you knew exactly what she was doing.

You whisper, out of breath, “Are you trying the jealousy trick?”

“It worked in college, didn’t it?” she kisses your cheek, smiling gently against your skin. “And it’s working now.”

“I think you’re just obsessed with kissing me,” you kiss her back.

“It was a win-win situation, doll,” she grins devilishly and you can’t help but agree. “So when you’re done with him, come see me. But right now, I have a sexy bartender lady to drink up.” You grip her hand and let her make her way to her next conquest.

Robert had seen the tail-end of your kiss, his deft fingers clenched around his whiskey glass. He knows he shouldn’t let this sort of thing affect him, something as juvenile and simple as jealousy. But he couldn’t stop that feeling of being stuck, unable to think about anything except the fact that it wasn’t him with his hands on you like that, lips marking you as much as he pleases. Sadness washed over him in a tidal wave and he set his glass down, about to get up to leave when he spotted a man eyeing you from the door. He looked familiar and it wasn’t just attraction he sensed in his eyes but something far more sinister.

A few more men followed suit and began making their way to you in the middle of the dance floor. He had no time to consider the facts, just to get you out of there as soon as possible.

You feel a rough hand tug your arm and turn to face who you think to be Dubois, you smile, “Enjoy the show?”

“Very much,” an unknown voice answers, and you look up, eyes wide. “Now why don’t you come with me for a little talk, beautiful.”

“Get the fuck off of me,” you yank your arm back, slamming your heel down into the perpetrator’s foot. More men surround you on all sides, making it impossible for you to escape or use your subpar martial arts skills. Aerial yoga was a very different ballpark than kicking ass. And you were just a beginner.

You poorly punch a man in the face, only making them all angrier when you’re grabbed from all sides, being dragged towards the exit kicking and screaming. You didn’t want to be that helpless damsel in distress, but as all of these men, men you recognized from your family’s death, were surrounding you, you couldn’t breathe. Their hands felt familiar, grabbing your arms like they’d done that night before you hid in the secret door in the dining room. You had watched these faceless men through a hole in that door, stifling your cries when bullets sprayed the room your family was having dinner in. So while they were coming after you and pulling you outside, it’s all you felt. That same feeling when he wasn’t near.

Drowning.

There’s a hand that pulls you back and you watch, dazed, as Bloodsport puts every man who touched you on the ground. It’s filled with swift yet aggressive and barbaric movements, controlled, expert chaos and it happens within moments. His chest is heaving when he looks down at you and scoops you up in his arms. You’d object in any other circumstances, but this time, head against his chest and tucked in his arms, you were okay.

His voice rumbles against your side, “We’re going home.”

~~~

Harley’s tears hit your shoulder as you sympathetically pat her back.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I shouldn’t have left,” she sniffles loudly. “I should’ve been there.”

You laugh softly, fitting your head into her shoulder, “It’s okay, Harls. It’s not your fault, there was no harm done.”

“There could have been,” she sighs. “I’m not letting you convince me to go out next time, you’re staying here forever.”

You roll your eyes with a smile, “Alright.”

She gets up and sniffs, wiping at her nose that’s now flushed from crying, “Good because I’m serious.”

“I know,” you laugh again, hugging yourself in a hoodie much too large for you, (because you stole it from Rick Flagg) swallowing you whole.

Your eyes wander down the hall to where Robert is no doubt pacing around in your bedroom, the only room not laden with cameras (ironically for privacy). You kick at the floor in your fuzzy socks and think of an excuse to go check on him, even though you’re probably the last person he wants to see right now. You, frankly, don’t care.

“I’m gonna go-”

“Check on Robert?” she finishes. “I know, honey. I was a psychiatrist, I’m not stupid.”

You crack a smile and grip her arm affectionately as you walk past her towards the bedroom. You don’t even take the risk of knocking for fear he’ll lock it and try your luck with just simply opening it. You see him, shirtless with a towel over his shoulder, a low hanging towel wrapped around his waist, while nursing his knuckles. He looks you over once you enter the room, trained eyes on you and the intimidation is definitely working already when he takes the damp towel on his shoulder and dabs the cuts on his skin.

He remains silent and you move to sit down on your bed, the awkward squeak filling the already high-tension atmosphere, thick enough to make your ears pop like you’re in an airplane too far up in the sky.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, drawing his eye.

He hums and steps into your bathroom, washing off his hands.

You frown at his lack of response, “Are you really going to pout this whole time? Because honestly, it’s beneath you, Robert.” You lean forward, watching as he walks out of the bathroom, still half naked, still silent.

The silence is beginning to slowly kill you, especially when he looks this good, water droplets running down his chiseled torso from a hot shower. You didn’t let your mind wander because if the reaction your body is giving from the image before you was any indication, you want him. He walks in the room once again, mouth in an amused yet firm line.

In actuality, he was ashamed of himself. Not so much of you. He would’ve left as that despair overcame him back in that bar. He would’ve left you there and abandoned his mission, leaving you to be hurt. If it hadn't been for those men, you could’ve been killed and it would be his fault. He alerted Waller of the attack, making up a lie about the two of you going for a walk at night and getting ambushed there rather than at a club. There’s a hit on each of those men being taken out as we speak as well as a search for their boss. Even though that still got him chewed out. He couldn’t imagine what she’d do to him if she found out the truth.

Robert walks slowly towards you, leaning against the bed frame, gesturing for you to continue. You watch him, distracted, as he wraps a bandage around his knuckles.

“I shouldn’t have kissed her to get a rise out of you, that was hurtful,” you exhale your words, quiet enough he wouldn’t be able to hear you if you weren’t within a breath of one another. You hang your head, “And it was stupid to go out in the first place when I am in this much danger. I could’ve been killed, and you could have been hurt. I’m sorry.”

He represses a laugh at the idea of him getting hurt, when the two of you both know that would never happen. But as the silence from him grows thicker, the more you start to ramble.

“Okay, this silent treatment isn’t going to work for much longer. I don’t know what game you’re playing, but you need to stop.”

He gives you a look that says ‘make me’. But you both know you couldn’t if you tried, and vice versa. He thinks of you as a siren, one of those alluring creatures in old sailor tales that lured unsuspecting men to their painful deaths. As if he has no control of the way he feels about you. Which in a way he does, but he knows better. He knows better than to fall under your enchanting song, but he can’t help but be pulled beneath the surface of the water.

Robert tenses when you move forward and the hoodie falls off one of your shoulders, revealing more of your chest, the smooth skin that lays there.

His chest tightens when you look up at him and sigh.

“But thank you for saving me,” you say, both because you think that’s what he wants to hear but also because you mean it, you wouldn’t be here at all if he didn’t come with you.

He licks his lips and nods his head in simple recognition. He appreciated the apology, truly he did, but a part of him enjoyed the way you continued to ramble on, so he remained silent. This was an old interrogation tactic he learned when he served, keeping quiet always got people talking. He looks down at you and leans to meet your face, hands on either side of you.

“I don’t know what else you wish for me to say,” you admit quietly, fiddling with your hands.

He didn’t know either but whatever you would say, he would listen.

“So I take it you’re not mad anymore?” you infer from his relaxed posture, heart beating out of your chest, fast enough that it catapults to your throat.

He tilts his head down so he’s an inch before your mouth, breath fanning over your face. when he tugs you up to your feet, hands gripping the sides of your waist when he pulls you close. Your heartbeats began to sync up, chest to chest.

“I’m fucking furious, sweetheart.”

You meet his eyes, looking up in that seductive stare of yours you never knew you were capable of until him, and close the distance, kissing him lightly. His arms falter by your side and it’s the first time you’ve seen him hesitate, losing his cool. It’s the most gentle thing he’s ever experienced, everything in his life being forced, hostile, and malicious, while your soft lips against his are anything but. You kiss him like he’s not the monster he thinks himself to be.

“Then let me make it up to you.”

“Fuck,” he grips your sides harder, palm moving to push you closer with his hand flat against the small of your back. “We shouldn’t.”

You search his face for uncertainty, but all you sense is a profound sense of clarity, in the both of you. “I know.”

“Will you regret this?”

You shake your head, hand against his cheek, “No.”

His dark eyes fall to your lips, pupils filling his dark brown irises, lust blown, “You’re so good, baby. You’re too good for me.”

Before you can tease him about the new nickname and object to that, his lips have crashed against your own. His hand slides up to cup the side of your face, drinking you in with his intoxicating kiss. You hum, content, against his feverish mouth and he opens it, vulnerable and on display. You feel his guard still up, tense and calculated, so you rest your hand against his chest. You press a kiss to his eyelid, his cheek, his nose, his chin, his jaw, his neck. He softens beneath you, groaning aloud as his hands tighten.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me,” you whisper to him, tender fingers trailing down his shirtless chest, hot skin against hot skin. It’s enough to make you sweat.

He exhales and captures your bottom lip with his own, holding your face in both of his hands. The kiss grows heated and rushed, like you’re running out of time, as if at any moment those men would come back and find you and take you away from him again. His tongue expertly works with your own, licking the pout of your bottom lip, and coaxing you open. He slides his hand down between your legs, dipping his finger to find the slick in the middle of your thighs. You moan into his mouth, his other hand at the back of your neck when he buries his face in your shoulder. He kisses you there, the crook where your neck meets your collarbone, that damned sensitive spot. You succumb to his touch. His beard tickles your skin and you gasp when he sucks hard, a bruise forming.

You breathe a laugh, “Everyone will see if you leave a mark,” you tug on his hair when you thread it through his coarse curls.

He falls under your spell and there’s something so ironically beautiful about this trained assassin with a heart of gold and the scars to show for it, being so open with you.

His hands, his entire life, have been forced to be instruments of death and violence. But as they slide down your figure, holding your face, and pulling you into him, they’re his greatest gift. He’s surprisingly tender with you.

But then he has enough and pushes you down on the bed, arms trapping you on both sides.

He responds bluntly, “I don’t care.”

You part your legs for him and he releases a shaky breath. He slowly unzips your sweatshirt and it falls off you just as you do the same and tug his towel down. Both of you are bare before the other as you take a moment to drink each other in. You were just as, if not more, beautiful than he imagined you to be.

“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly as his hand drapes down the line of your figure. He touches you how someone would handle a glass vase filled with flowers.

You take his face in both of your hands and kiss him, “So are you.”

“I don’t think you know what you do to me, baby.” His hand finds your breast and squeezes while he kisses your neck.

You moan when he uses his other hand to grip your neck, thumb against your pulse point, “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then yes, I do.”

He lifts his head up to watch your face as he chokes you, softly so he doesn’t hurt you but hard enough to play with your breath. His thumb opens your mouth and your legs tremble.

“So I take it you’re into choking, my love?” You nod excitedly, unable to speak, and his grip tightens.

You let out a squeak and he releases, face etched with worry, kissing your neck where he touched you. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head and smile comfortingly, “No, baby, I’m okay. I’ll tap out if it’s too rough, I promise,” you tease.

His grumbling voice deepens, “Good... because, darling, right now all I want to do is bury my face in between those gorgeous thighs of yours.”

You inhale sharply when he opens your legs once again, looking up at you and you nod in consent.

“I need words, beautiful,” he smirks with his mouth just above your center.

“Yes, please,” you breathe out and he responds with a swift lick to your pussy. He looks up at you and when he catches your eye, it’s as if the sensation grows stronger and your head hits your pillow.

“I’ve barely even touched you,” he mumbles into you and you feel his smug smile in your thigh. His fingers dip into you as he flattens his tongue and crooks them towards himself, you grip your sheets.

“Don’t... flatter yourself,” you sigh out. “I-it’s just been awhile.”

He removes his mouth and fingers from you, “So anyone can make you feel like this?”

You enjoy the feeling you get when he looks at you like that, his eyes dark and dominant, so you play along and nod. “Yes, in fact, I’ve had better.”

He licks his lips and gets up from the bed. He opens his drawer and you sit up to look what he grabs: a belt. Your heart beats excitedly in your chest even though you know you shouldn’t be. He gets back on the bed and climbs over you.

Robert looks at you, “Hands.”

You extend them to him wordlessly, watching as he ties your wrists together and puts them over the bedpost so you’re trapped there, unable to move.

“Now,” he holds himself above you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You’re to stay tied up until I say so, anything like that again and they get tighter. Nod if you understand me.”

You nod emphatically. You had never seen this side of Robert before, so in control and not afraid to go too far, it was so unbelievably sexy.

The best part was he didn’t tie it tight enough, afraid of hurting you, so you could easily slip out your hands at any moment.

He kisses, painfully slow, down your chest and wraps his lips around your nipple. He swirls his tongue around the erect bud and you gasp, desperate to touch him. He looks up at you from you chest as he switches to the other, massaging the unattended one as he sucks, the pleasurable feeling overwhelming you. So much so you have to clench your thighs together, longing for some sort of relief for the tension building in your abdomen.

“Baby, please,” you whine, squirming beneath him.

He shuts you up with a bruising kiss while his hand slips down to enter you, two fingers in already. He pumps them in and out of you before sliding back down the expanses of your body and letting his mouth latch onto your clit. He sucks hard and you stifle a loud moan that would surely alert everyone in the home of your arousal. He holds you down against the bed with a palm flat against your stomach as you begin to lift your pelvis. His tongue enters you while his fingers take over, stimulating you with gentle rubs and flicks. But just before you feel that euphoric release, his actions cease and you’re left hot and flustered.

“Robert,” you look at him with a deep frown.

He grins, “Y/n...”

You blow hair out of your eyes, “I hate you.”

“No you don’t.” He puts his lips near your ear, “Are you ready?” You nod as he pushes himself inside you and you bite back a moan into his shoulder.

You finally have enough, slip your hands out, and he pinches his brow, unable to hide his shock before you bring him down to press your lips against his. He melts into you, arms wrapped around you while he holds you close, filling you out in all the right places. He quickens his pace and you whine into his mouth, nails digging into his skin. You wrap your legs around his torso and he hits you so nicely. He was right, it’s the best you’ve ever had. He rises and looks at you, lips swollen and red from kissing, eyes clear and pupils large, and face flushed with heat. Your hair is in messy tendrils at all angles and you’ve never been more attractive.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises in your ear, placing kisses across your jaw. “Taking my cock so well.”

You whimper and his movements stiffen as he approaches release and so do you, walls tightening around him. He reaches down and rubs your clit with his expert fingers. You finish together, mouths open and hands all over each other’s bodies. It overcomes you in a tingling, perfect sensation, it continues on, leaving you aching and wanting more.

He rubs his knuckles over your cheek, softly and adoringly he looks at you. You tuck yourself into his arms under the blankets. Everything you both have wanted for a long time, laying right in front of you.

“Still want to make me not walk?” you tease, looking up at him.

He kisses your eyelids and you giggle, “Fuck yes.”

Part 2?

#harley quinn #harley quinn x reader #rick flagg #bloodsport #bloodsport x reader #robert dubois x reader #robert dubois #idris elba #suicide squad #suicide squad 2 #dc #dc smut #dc fanfiction #fanfiction #smut

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minnie-marvel · 6 years

Text

Night Terrors (Loki x Reader) Part 3

All your life you have lived with the strange ability to walk and manipulate the dreams of others. Your power helped you receive a job as a personal dream therapist for Tony Stark who eventually offered you the same position for the rest of his team at the Avenger’s tower. When you enter into Thor’s dream to pacify his nightmare he is impressed with your abilities and gives you a challenge: to help remedy his brother’s nightmares which are apparently a thousand times worse.

Loki x Reader

Words: 3,443

Part 1 Part 2

A/N: Whooo third part is up! just a note, a very happy birthday to @levihunter666 I hope you’re having a great day an I hope that this only adds to your birthday fun!

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You would have sat outside Loki’s door for hours if it didn’t mean you could have been potentially kicked in the face if he saw you. So, instead of taking that chance you decided to distract yourself. Sure it was about five o clock in the morning, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t go out! You pulled a jacket over your shoulders and grabbed your keys off of your desk to head out to town.

Because the compound was so far off from civilization, you found yourself at the craft store only minutes before they opened and sat in your car. You replayed Loki’s dream in your mind as you closed your eyes resting your forehead against your wheel.

“You are nothing. You deserve nothing. And you will continue to be this way until you grace this earth with your death,”

You felt a chill rush down your spine and your entire body quivered with fear. You knew that this was all a dream and yet, Loki’s familiarity with such words spoken to him left you unsettled. Loki was arrogant, self-centered, bratty and an all-around asshole. So why did he allow Odin to belittle him like he did? Thinking back you realized that in his dream Loki only spoke one word during his dream sequence.

“Father,” You whispered to yourself as your eyes opened slowly. You turned your head slightly towards the front of the store. The lights of its sign were now on and you started to see people walking in. You pulled out your phone looking at the time. Eight forty-five? But it was nearly seven o clock what seemed like minutes ago when you first arrived! You shrugged with a sigh walking into the store looking around the aisles curiously. You were ready to splurge after last night; you needed to spend some time not worrying about Loki. After all, regardless of what you had seen last night he still was undeniably a huge dick.

You picked up a few items, a small pack of beads, leather straps, thread, feathers and an embroidery hoop. You were planning on making a dream catcher. It wasn’t that your mothers dream catcher had been broken, Loki’s illusion was only meant to mess with you not actually do any real damage. You thought that working on a small craft would give you just the distraction you needed. After you paid for your items you got back into your car and drove back to the compound ready to finally take a break.

When you walked back into the compound you were approached by many of your Avenger colleagues about yesterday’s little fit.

“Hey, there you are!” Bruce walked over to you as you walked in the door.“You okay Y/N? You were in rare form” He gave you an awkward lopsided smile. You shrugged. “Yeah…I just wasn’t in a good mood,” You explained. “I got some crafts to help me relax a little bit.” You shook the bag gently showing off your shopping trip. Bruce nodded respectfully. “Hey, if anyone knows about trying to keep your anger in check it's me, have a nice time,” He said giving your back a pat.

Steve nodded in agreement.“Yeah, we all know that Loki can be…”

“An insensitive, immature, fucker?” You spat, still bitter.

“Difficult was the word I would choose but, yes,” Steve said. “Just don’t take it personally,”

“Yeah…sure.” You said with a curt nod. You began making your way back to your room. In all honesty, you were starting to become pissed all over again at all your friend’s reactions. Everyone seemed to be used to Loki’s antics but that didn’t make them right. You huffed to yourself as you watched your door slide open to your room. You nearly dropped your bags on the floor as your expression scrunched up in annoyance.

Of course, Loki would be sitting in your room just as you left to get away from everyone else so you could relax.

You sighed throwing your bags in your desk chair. Thankfully, Thor was there too, sitting beside his brother. He seemed to be completely relaxed resting on your bed while Loki had his legs crossed properly as he sat and looked out your window not even taking a moment to acknowledge you.

“My brother would like to speak to you,” Thor said nonchalantly as he only snuggled closer into your pillows. You two had been in each other’s rooms so often, it was as if you both just shared one another’s things. Thor kicked Loki in the back roughly causing his brother to jolt in response. “Right, brother?” You folded your arms over your chest. Thor was obviously doing this out of a good heart, but no forced apology would be able to satisfy your building hatred towards the trickster god.

“I apologize for my actions this week,” Loki said simply. He still wasn’t looking at you and it made you mad. What, did he think you were below him or something? Of course, you knew the answer was yes but that didn’t make you feel any better. “They were uncalled for,” he finished.

“Okay.” You said simply. “See you soon,” You opened up the door. To your surprise, Thor got up to leave while Loki stayed. You eyed Thor confused as he made his way to you. “I suggested Loki stay with you for the day. You know so that he can get to know what a great person you are.” He explained placing a hand on your shoulder.

“Thor that’s sweet but-”

“I told him that you’re a trustworthy and pleasant friend to have, he would be lucky to have you!” You tried not to let your expression slack into a smile. Thor was too nice for his own good. It was a shame his brother was such a rat. “You don’t mind do you Y/N?” He asked giving you a smile. You sighed.

“No, it’s fine.” You said finally moving to your desk. “Stay as long as you like Loki.” You tried not to groan as you replied.

“Fantastic! I’ll see you at dinner then! I believe Tony is ordering… the pizza hut.” He said excitedly. “I asked him for all the meats on my slices but he said he’ll have to see, any requests?”

“Tell Tony that I said to order pineapple,” You didn’t look up at him while you cleared a space on your desk. He shuffled awkwardly. “He said you might request that and told me to tell you that your taste in pizza is atrocious.”

This time you actually groaned. “Fine then! I’m okay with cheese,” You said disappointedly. Thor nodded and made his way back out. “Bye Y/N! Bye brother, play nice!”

“Bye Thor,” You said as the door slid behind him, closed.

Silence.

You sighed loudly sitting at your desk now. If Loki wasn’t going to at least try to be nice then neither would you. You spilled your supplies on your desk and began to work.

“You know, you don’t have to stay here.” You said wrapping the ring in leather. “You can just make an illusion of yourself and stay in your room and Thor wouldn’t know.” You didn’t look back at him as he spoke.

“You don’t think I’ve thought of that?” Loki rolled his eyes. “Thor said he’ll be checking the rooms for illusions every fifteen minutes to make sure I stay in place. Honestly, I don’t understand what the issue is here.”

“Your tricks are annoying and in bad taste,” You shot back still working on your project.

He looked you up and down. You were still in pajamas. “And wouldn’t you know about bad taste?” He smirked. “I do enjoy the sheep on your sleepwear.” You felt your face get hot.

“Okay, if you’re going to stay in my room could you at least not be a total douche bag?” You snapped. You kept your lips tight. You wanted to tell him that it was his fault that you were still in your pajamas with that dream of his, but you knew you couldn’t tell Loki. As if he didn’t hate you enough.

“My, how your temper has sparked since our first conversation… you’re quite the charmer aren’t you?” You could practically hear the smirk in his sarcastic voice.

“And who do I have to thank for that?” You asked finishing the leather. You were starting to work on the webbing now.

“Honestly, it was just a joke! In comparison to Thor, you only had a taste of my abilities.”

You scooted away from your desk finally facing him and took a breath. “Loki, by all means, if you were offended by my offer to try and help you with your nightmares, I’m truly sorry. But you need to realize that I wasn’t the one who wanted to approach you at all. Thor asked me to because he was concerned about you. So if you have anyone to blame it's him.” You clasped your hands together to make your point.

“But in all honesty, you shouldn’t be blaming anyone. It’s not an offense to know that people care about you and your well being.” You almost fell over. Loki was actually looking at you now. “Cut them a little slack.” You finished finally. Silence filled the room again and you sighed. Obviously, you weren’t getting anywhere with him. You scooted back to your desk to continue on your web.

“…What are you working on?” Loki asked. You looked over your shoulder eyebrows raised in shock. He wasn’t actually making an effort to speak to you, was he? You lifted your work in project slowly. “It’s a dream catcher.” You explained pointing to the bigger one that sat on your wall.

“A dream catcher? Is this witchcraft?” He asked quickly. Yeah, as if he needed another spell in his arsenal of illusions.

“Not really, it’s a tool.” You began looking at the web you had started in your hands. “Native Americans have told stories of bad dreams being captured in the web of dream catchers and letting the good ones pass through the center.” You illustrated by letting your finger circle around the catcher’s center. “The nightmares are caught in the web and trickle off the feathers to be destroyed.”

Loki was looking closely at the dream catcher now. “And it works?” He asked. If you hadn’t been watching him as close as you had you wouldn’t have noticed that the tips of his fingers were touching one another gently, almost anxiously. You laid back in your desk chair. “I personally think so, yes. It depends on how you make them,” your eyes went back down the catcher and you started back up on its web. “If you believe that it’ll work, it’ll work, but not every time obviously.” You started to tie some feathers and attached some beads. “If they did then I guess there wouldn’t be a need for my powers then would there?” You laughed only to yourself. Sometimes you wished this were the case.

“Who taught you of this?” He asked. You could tell he was intrigued by the small craft.

“My mom,” you said simply. “She gave me the one you were fooling around with yesterday when I was little. I haven’t seen her in a while.” You explained giving him a side glace. “Which is why I was so upset by the way.”

Loki didn’t respond initially at first, but when he did he seemed to speak only slightly above a whisper. “…Sorry.” His voice seemed frail, almost like a piece of glass; if it wasn’t handled properly it might break. You sighed internally.

“It’s okay.” You said finally. “Just don’t let it happen again.” You said fastening the feathers on the dream catcher. “Well, that’s done,” You said showing it to him. “What do you think?”

You thought you saw a glimmer in those emeralds of his. “It’s not horrible for having been made so quickly.” He said looking away quickly. You gave a half smile. At least he was trying now.

“You want to watch something?” You asked grabbing the remote like he had a choice.

“Oh…midgaurdian television. Joy.”

“What about it?” You asked sliding your chair to your bed where he still sat. “It’s not ALL bad.”

“ I walked into Thor’s room last week and saw him watching two toy dolls fly off on some sort of spaceship.”

Oh yeah, that reminded you had to get your copy of Toy Story back from Thor.

“That was just one movie, you can’t knock them all,” You debated signing on your Netflix account. “I think you’ll like this one.” You said scrolling to the cinema production of Phantom of the Oprea.

“Thor mentioned that you have a thing for drama,” you shrugged. “Give me my blanket?” You asked hugging your knees with one arm as the movie started to play. Loki rolled his eyes. “As if your subpar Midgardian movies could ever equate to my refined taste for the arts.” He pulled the blanket off your bed and handed it off to you. “Your blanket.”

“Thank you Loki,” You smiled wrapping it around your body. “Now get comfortable, because it picks up fast.” You warned smiling as the music began to play.

“I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Fifteen minutes into the movie.

“Hmph. Well, the girl’s voice isn’t all that bad.”

Half an hour into the movie.

“The costumes are alright… they would do well to add a splash of green to them.”

An hour into the movie.

“The dance sequences are….charming to say the least.”

An hour and a half into the movie.

“I must say I do like this phantom… his dedication to deception is amicable.”

Two hours into the movie.

“Well… who doesn’t love a mob song?!”

Soon the credits began to roll and you felt yourself stretch out of your blanket cocoon. “So was it as terrible as you tho-”

You froze. Loki looked completely starstruck. “Loki?” You asked suddenly pulling him out of his thoughts. He coughed trying to hide his obvious interest. “Yes, well it wasn’t horrible.” He concluded folding his arms against his chest.

“I’m a fan of ‘Past the Point of No Return,’” You said thoughtfully.

“Yes, well 'Music of the Night' is obviously the most promising of the selection.” You smirked having caught him in the act. “You seemed to have gotten the names of the songs pretty quickly there Loki,”

He looked at you incredulously trying to hide his flustered expression. “It wasn’t that hard to follow the names were so simple Thor could have guessed them.” You chuckled getting up from your seat. “Yeah, alright Loki.” You checked your phone.

“Aw man… Thor texted me like half an hour that dinner was here… I bet you all the good pizzas are gone and the slices are cold.” You muttered half to yourself. You looked behind you. “Are you going to eat something?” You asked sliding your phone in your pocket. He shook his head standing up straight and wiping his suit off.

“I should report back to Thor and tell him what a good sport I’ve been.” He said simply making his way to leave. Your eyebrows scrunched together. You didn’t see Loki get breakfast, but you knew he hadn’t eaten since you got home because he had been with you, and that was hours ago.

“Alright then goodnight,” You said getting ready to raid the kitchen. Loki started to follow you out.

“Oh wait!” You said walking back to your desk. You picked up the dream catcher you had made. “A peace offering.” You said simply placing it in his hands. “I’m sorry for yelling at you yesterday.”

Loki stared at the gift for a moment before meeting your eyes again. “No, I’m sorry. The tricks…they were in bad taste. You don’t have to give me this.” He still held the dream catcher in his hands touching its webbing gently.

“It’s not a problem Loki,” You said pushing the dream catcher closer to his chest.

“Trust me, as far as dreams go, I’m covered.” You started walking out the door again. “Goodnight.”

He stood in your room a moment longer staring at the dream catcher. “Yes…goodnight Y/N.” He said softly before leaving to meet Thor.

---

The night came quickly and soon you found yourself patrolling the halls listening for nightmares that could have been happening. It was your daily routine to make sure everyone else was having sweet dreams before you rested yourself. You tapped on your phone as you passed each room making sure the dreams seemed to be secure. Steve? Check. Bruce? Check. Natasha? Not applicable. Tony? Check. Loki?

You felt your feet stop in front of his door. He should have been ‘nonapplicable’ too but you found yourself still standing in place. You knew he definitely didn’t want you in his dreams but Odin’s words seemed to whisper in your ear as you stared at the cold steel door. You looked at the floor as you felt yourself bite your lip.

“Just a minute…ten tops…” You promised yourself sitting aside his door. You blinked three times and saw yourself in the Doorway.

“Okay Y/N… we’re making this quick and easy. Just a check in. Nothing extravagant. After all, Loki’s still sort of an ass? Okay well, he was less of an ass today but that was because Thor made him.” You said to yourself.

You walked down the doorway looking past each door, everything still seemed to be normal. You shuddered suddenly. The cold draft that you felt when you first entered Loki’s dream was a lot closer than it was last night. You looked ahead the frostbitten door confirming your thoughts. But… it didn’t make sense. Even if you had entered Loki’s door before, it shouldn’t have been this close already. People who had close doors meant that they had some sort of connection to you.

You stared at the door in its close proximity. It still was a little ways off from the rest, but it was significantly closer. You shook your head to stop yourself from being distracted. The less you stalled, the quicker you could get to your own bed and not the cold floor outside Loki’s room. You grabbed at the crystal handles pulling gently. To your surprise, the door didn’t give as much trouble as it had last time.

Stop it Y/N. In and Out.

You walked in and found yourself in the Asgardian throne room again. You looked ahead and felt your heart sink. Loki stood in chains again before his father.

“Wretched child… may the day that I spared your life be cursed.” Odin bellowed slamming his scepter down. Loki didn’t even wince at his cruelty. It made your heart twist. Come on Loki. you thought. Say something. Anything! Don’t just stand there! You yelled internally.

“Are you ready to finally relieve me of your burden of an existence boy?” Loki didn’t nod but his posture went slack, something that you weren’t used to. Odin raised his staff slowly the point of it beginning to glow. You felt your breath quicken and your heart began to race.

Before you could even register your own actions your hand was raised towards Odin and his staff stopped glowing. Your eyes widened as he lowered his staff to the floor again gentler this time.

Shit.

You sighed internally. You might as well finish what you’ve started. You felt your fingers pull at Odin’s finger as you began to puppet his actions. You mouthed the words softly to yourself and soon they became Odin’s.

“Stand up straight Loki…” The trickster god looked up at his father slowly. Odin turned his face from Loki. You couldn’t make it too obvious, Loki was no idiot.

“Even if you have caused this land many toils… you are still my son.” He said. “I shall not lay a hand against you.” Odin raised his staff again and sliced down Loki’s chains letting them fall apart to the floor. “You are free.” He said turning his back to him.

“Father?”

“I said you are free.” He said again. “Don’t make me repeat myself.” Loki touched his previously chained wrists gently and looked at him. He nodded quickly and turned to leave the throne room. Before he could make his way towards the pillars that you were standing at you blinked three times and found yourself outside Loki’s door again. You sighed standing at your feet.

“Just checking in right?” You muttered to yourself before walking into your room. You climbed into your bed quietly pulling the covers over your body.

“…What a joke.”

Part 4

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