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#he’s been back a week and he can’t stand it
moonstruckme · 2 days
Note
I know nothing about spencer actually, since I never watch his series. But I read on one of your fics that spencer is germphobia?
Could I request one where spencer gets home after a case for a week and found reader sick in the bathroom?, and she's kinda locked herself since she knows spencer germphobia?
You know that kind of fever where you sweat and throw up nonstop
It's been so long after you write spencer. I miss your spencer a lottttttt TnT
Thank you for requesting! I’m not totally sure if Spencer is canonically confirmed germophobic but he’s definitely sensitive to germs, so we’ll roll with that :) 
cw: nausea, vomiting
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 832 words
You’re not at your best, shaky and sweaty, but when you hear the front door open you move quick as a flash. 
“Hello?” Spencer’s call echoes through the apartment. 
“Hi,” you say back, quieter than you intend. Still, he finds you easily, and you’re glad you reacted fast when the handle on the bathroom door jiggles. “What are you doing here?” 
Spencer’s taken to staying at your place, but when he’d called you from the jet to tell you his case was over you’d said to go back to his apartment. With what he knows about how sick you’ve been the last couple of days, you thought he’d listen. 
“You shouldn’t be by yourself,” he answers simply. He doesn’t try the handle again, but his voice sounds just on the other side of the door. “Are you okay?” 
“I’ve been better,” you admit, breathing through another wave of nausea, “but I’ll be fine. You should go home.” 
“I am home. Open the door.” 
“Spence,” you sigh. The tips of your fingers are cool against your temples, and you press them in to quell the uneasy feeling that comes with having your brain so muddled. “You don’t want to come in here.” 
“Why can’t I decide that?” There’s an odd scraping sound on the other side of the door. 
“Because you’re too nice. I know how you feel about germs.” The mutinous acid vat of your stomach revolts again, and you cough a couple of times, swallowing forcefully. 
“I’m just as likely to get sick from pressing an elevator button,” Spencer insists gently. “Seriously, let me in.” 
“Go home,” you plead. 
“I’m coming in.” 
You sigh, bending to lean your head against the cool porcelain of your tub. “What, are you going to kick the door in?” He’s told you about his coworker Morgan doing that, but you don’t think of your scrawny (though you love him for it) boyfriend as capable of such measures. 
“Not quite.” Another scraping sound, and you sit up as your bathroom door tips outward. Spencer catches it before it can fall, easing it down onto the floor before stepping over it. He’s taken the whole thing off its hinges. 
“Show off,” you say tiredly, too spent to do anything about it as he walks over to you. 
“Yeah, well,” Spencer lifts some flyaway baby hairs off your neck, cool knuckles pressing to the hot skin, “I didn’t want to damage your door. You didn’t tell me your fever was this bad.” 
“I told you I was sick.” 
“I feel like ‘sick’ is more or less ambiguous,” he says, not unkindly. His touch moves to your face, long, slender fingers laying down across your forehead. “How high is it?” 
“Dunno.” You swallow thickly. “Haven’t checked. Are you okay?” 
“I touched a dead body yesterday; so long as I shower after this I’ll be fine. How have you not checked?” 
“I can’t—find—” You cough as bile rises in your throat, bending over the toilet “—the—” 
“Okay, it’s okay.” Spencer rubs your back. Your coughing turns into retching. “I got it. I’ll look for the thermometer soon, okay?” 
You nod, tears pressing at your eyes as you dry heave. The muscles in your throat and abdomen spasm painfully. 
Spencer makes a sorry sound, his hand coasting up and down the ridges of your spine. “You haven’t been eating anything, have you?” It’s not really a question. “We need to get something in your system. You know that ‘starve a fever’ saying is an old wives’ tale, right?”
He sits with you until the fit abates, then stands and leaves the room. You hear cabinet doors opening and shutting, and before long he’s got a wet rag cooling the back of your neck, you’re sipping water out of a straw, and he’s sticking your previously missing thermometer in your ear. 
“I’ll probably have to go soon if I want to get to the store before it closes,” he’s saying quietly, free hand settled comfortably north of your knee. You’re trying really hard not to breathe in his face. “It’d be good to have some cheerios or something for you to eat, and something with electrolytes.” 
The thermometer beeps, and he pulls it close to read the screen, a frown pursing his pretty lips. 
“Are you sure you want to stay?” you ask, though at this point you really want him to as well. “I don’t want to freak you out.” 
Spencer sets the thermometer aside. “You’re not freaking me out,” he says, hands gentle as he takes the rag from your neck and folds it onto a new side before putting it back. You almost sigh. “The worst thing that can happen is I get sick, and” —he meets your eyes, mouth tipping upward as he shrugs— “if that happens, it can’t be helped. But if I went back to my apartment, and I was fine there but you were still sick here by yourself, well, what’s the point in that?” 
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shoot an arrow through my heart
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max verstappen x reader
there's something you need to hear max say, but you're not sure if he's actually going to say it. you do know one thing though, it was always gonna be you and max.
a/n: started this longer ago than i'd like to admit but here we are! a big thank you to my fave beta reader K and to @scuderiahoney who helped me figure out all the banner image stuff. based on prompt #966 from this list.
masterlist
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It starts with Lando. Because doesn’t it always? 
Lando says shit he doesn’t mean, Lando says things just for the sake of saying them. Lando says things as if they are fundamentally truths when they are in fact are lies.
And so, one moment you’re hanging out with Lando, letting him talk you down from buying the little trinket of the week you’ve fixated on, and the next he’s saying that Max is in love with you, saying it like it’s a truth, and then moving on as if he hasn’t just tilted your world on its axis.
And then, before you know it, you’re banging on Max’s front door trying to figure out if it’s true or not. 
Trying to figure out if your best friend is in love with you.
“Max! Open the door.”
He doesn’t.
You honestly don’t know if you want him to, or what you’re going to do when he does. Or if he even will, Max doesn’t know you’re here and you don’t even know if he’s home.
You’re just about ready to search for the spare key, the one you told him to hide in the firehose down the hallway because having a fake rock in front of his door makes no sense when he lives in an apartment building, when the door is flung open and a very grumpy looking Max, headset in hand, is giving you just about the most fed-up, unimpressed, stare you’ve seen in your life.
“Are you in love with me?” You can’t help it, the words foreign on your tongue but there’s an urgency to get them out and into the space in between you. You’re so desperate to hear him say it back.
Max blinks at you, bewildered at your words. You can see the gears turning in his head trying to work out what you just said and if you’re being honest you don’t know if you should be offended at the fact that the answer isn’t an immediate yes.
His brow furrows and his lips purse, “what?”
A beat passes, and then another, and then the idiot actually has the audacity to close the door.
You roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it you know that he knows that you’re doing it. As you push the exasperation out of your lungs you knock again.
“Max, nuh-uh, that is not going to work, open the door and answer my question.”
Nothing.
You bang your fist on the door one more time for good measure, “Max, you know I know where your spare key is and we both know that I’ll let myself in if necessary.”
It’s true and he knows it. 
There have been many nights where you’ve verged on the edge of too far gone and walked from the club to his apartment. Nights where you didn’t want the fun to end so instead of going home you go to Max’s where you can cuddle and coo at Jimmy and Sassy and sit around in comfy clothes and watch as Max putters around doing whatever it was he was doing before you came over.
It’s true. He knows it. But still, he doesn’t open the door.
You sigh and softly thump your forehead against Max’s front door, through the absence of your knocking you can hear his nervous shuffling on the other side. The inquisitive meows from the cats, the faint scrape of the peephole cover as Max checks to see if you’re still there, if you’re still waiting for him. 
You would wait for him for forever, but that’s just for you to know really.
Max opens the door again, just the barest amount. Just enough so his eyes, wide and disbelieving can lock onto yours. 
They’re so blue, you don’t know how you never noticed it before, so classically storybook blue that you’re really starting to wonder if this is all some kind of weird dream where you’re standing at his doorstep begging to be loved by him, like some kind of cheesy romcom star. Because after all, aren’t you just a girl standing in front of a guy?
“You’re in love with me.”
The words stretch the impossible distance between the two of you. Even when he’s halfway around the globe he’s never felt this far away.
And still, somehow, you feel too close to him. Like somehow all the other versions of you and him have been false proxies to what you’re reaching for right now. Like all of a sudden, somehow, he’s been molded into your every contour of your soul and you don’t want anything else
The door edges open a little wider.
“Are you asking me that or are you telling me?”
He’s stalling, you both know it. But, you can’t really bring yourself to do more than give him a fondly smile and roll your eyes at him. Because you know, if the roles were reversed, if he was the one throwing pebbles like some kind of suave Dutch romeo, demanding to know if you were in love with him, you would be doing the same thing.
“You and I both know how much you like being told what to do.” With a sigh Max opens the door to his apartment a little wider once more to let you in, “and yet, you’re still here telling me to open my door.”
You can’t really fault him for that one can you?
You make your way to the living room where you settle down on your spot on the couch while Max flits around the living room. Sassy is meowing at Max, desperate for a taste of the outside she only ever gets when the front door opens, and even though he knows she’s not going to make a run for it he still takes the time to half-heartedly shoo her away.
Max does this, dragging his feet, until both of the cats have curled up next to you on the couch and it is only then that he makes his way over to you. Coming to stand behind the armrest on his side of the couch, putting a little too much distance between the two of you for you to not feel spurned by him.
You can hear it in silence between you, you can feel it in the way your body seems to ache from having him in the ways you have him now and not in the ways you want to have him.
You’re not ready to have this conversation.
There’s a part of you that almost wants to say nevermind and forget that you even said anything in the first place. But deep down you know that the two of you have been putting on this elaborate dog and pony show for far too long. You’re only delaying the inevitable.
“So,” you say, nervously running your fingers over the fabric of the couch. “Is it true?”
You try to catch his eye as you say it, not only to try to make sure he doesn't chicken out but to see the reaction he gives. You want to see his soul and know that he means whatever he says.
But Max doges your gaze at every move in a way that makes him look like a kicked puppy. And you’re not really sure what it means but you can feel the way the dynamic has shifted. All of a sudden the two of you are on shaky ground, not sure where you stand with each other. Even though two hours earlier you would have called him your best friend with your entire heart.
“Well?”
“Please,” he says your name, strained and with a weight to it that you don’t quite want to acknowledge, “don’t make me say it.”
You’re not above begging, you really aren’t, but something about the way he sounds makes you falter. Just a little.
“Max,” you say his name softly, “I think you and I both know what your answer is going to be.”
“Then why do you need to hear it so bad?” His words bite, tinged with an anger that you know he doesn't really mean. “So, I can say it back!” Your words match the sharpness in his and you can see how much they throw Max off kilter.
He blinks at you and then rocks on his feet, first a step forward and then a step back like he’s blown away by the force of what you said. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you never tell me?”
You cross your arms and shrug your shoulders, “it was a personal issue.”
“You being in love with me kind of also involves me.” 
You really don’t want to admit that he’s right on with that one.
You huff and shrug your shoulders again, “well it goes both ways, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I asked first,” Max shoots back.
You groan at his response and launch yourself up towards Max in a play attempt to strangle him. “Argh, you’re so!” You drape your arms over his shoulders as you slump against him, head resting in the spot where his shoulder meets his neck, “God I hate you.”
Max laughs underneath you, his arms coming up to wrap around your waist, “you evidently don’t.”
“You're so silly,” you sigh, tilting your head up to look at him. "You want to hear me say it so bad."
Your nose nearly brushes against his, he’s so close you think you could count every single one of his eyelashes if you tried.
Max makes a noise that’s somewhere between exasperated and surprised and you know that you’re toeing the line with your teasing
You always know when to give in when it comes to him.
“Okay, yes, I love you! I love you,” you say, “do you love me?”
“Yeah, I do,” Max says as he moves to cradles your jaw in his hands. “I love you.”
You grin, “good. Now kiss me please.”
And he does. He does and it feels like all the cliche things people say. It feels like coming home, it feels like fireworks are going off in the background, it feels like you were meant to be, that he was made for you just as much as you were made for him.
And you just know. You know that there can never be anyone else but him. That there was a version of you before Max and now there’s going to be a version of you that’s with Max, but there’s never going to be a you after Max.
“I love you.” Softer, quieter this time.
You don’t dare look him in the eye, instead choosing to press your cheek against his and stare out the window of his apartment. Your gaze settles somewhere in the distance as you try to memorize the feel of his body pressed up against yours.
You curl your fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging absentmindedly as you say, “I’m glad that worked out, I didn’t even know you were home.”
He pulls away from you to fix you with a look that is so quintessentially Max, “you have my location on your phone, you’re always stalking me,” he says, punctuating his words with little jabs to your shoulder.
It’s true, and you honestly don’t know why you didn’t try to check his location in the first place, your logic getting lost somewhere in the panic of knowing that he loved you. 
“Mhmm.” You shrug noncommittally, trying very hard to ignore the rushing feeling of warmth in your chest that comes with the realization that Max was so ingrained in your life and you in his from the start. 
You try not to think about the fact your toothbrush sits next to his in his bathroom, about the fact that your hand automatically gravitates to his favorite spoon in your cutlery drawer, the one you can identify solely based on the weight of it in your hand. You try very hard to think about how you couldn’t separate the love from the friendship.
It was always gonna be you and Max. 
There’s a silence between you for a moment. You try to match your breath to his and let the sounds of outside filter through your ears. And for a moment you can hear how the rest of the world keeps turning, even when your world has stopped spinning on its axis.
“So, what now?” Max asks, turning his head to press kisses to your hairline, his hand squeezing your waist. You can feel his nose brush against your temple as he makes his way down, lips featherlight on your skin. The intimacy of it makes your blood sing with electricity. 
You pull “Mhmm, you could take me to bed?”
It’s half serious, half a joke. You’ve waited so long to have Max like this that now that you finally do you want him in all ways possible. But still, there’s some young and girlish part of you that wants it to be special.
Max pretends to think about it for a little bit and it’s so impossibly silly that you have to resist the urge to strangle him again for it, “it’s three in the afternoon, I think it’s a little early for sleep.”
“You know that’s not what I mean, stop being a smartass.”
Max smiles, taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together. “Well,” he says, “how about I send you home so you can get all nice and pretty for me and then I’ll come pick you up and take you to a nice dinner, hmm?”
You flush, not just from the way he pours honey, slow and sweet, into your ear, but from the way it feels like this was always meant to be. Like you were always meant to have this, always meant to have him. 
“And then,” he says, dropping your hand to pull you in by your belt loops so your hips are press flush against his, “after dinner, that’s when I’ll take you to bed.”
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somewhere in the back of your mind, you know this isn’t how it should be. 
your living room is dimly lit, illuminated only by the tv in front of you, and the moon is glowing a pearlescent blue. flimsy strings of moonlight spill over your floorboards, reflecting off the windows, and whatever you’re doing isn’t what you should be doing. you shouldn’t be awake this late, shouldn’t be gorging on sweets before bed, shouldn’t be having a rendezvous with an enemy — shouldn’t be watching movies with your ex of ten years. 
most of all, you shouldn’t be feeling nearly this content.
getō is seated right beside you, legs comfortably spread, popping a macaron into his mouth. chewing it slowly, savouring the flavour — or lack thereof, you suppose. he can’t taste much, anymore; one too many curses digested. or so he says.
this time, he brought pastries with him. expensive ones, you can tell, just from the package alone — a soft pastel pink box, wrapped up in silk, golden letters etched into the front. mont blancs, macarons, two slices of strawberry shortcake. carefully picked, suited to your tastes.
(you aren’t actually too fond of sweets, anymore, but how is he to know? he hasn’t seen you in years.)
”would you like me to make us some tea?”
when you turn your gaze towards him, getō’s wearing a smile. laid-back, the slightest upward curl, tilting his head in a manner you’re far too used to. eyes shining with something keen. somehow, it feels difficult to tear your gaze away from his.
but you manage, turning forward, grasping control over your sleepy vocal cords. ”no, i’m good.”
a low hum. he’s still looking at you. ”coffee?”
”the sweets are more than enough.”
this time, a smile, one you can’t see but still somehow sense. a little bit amused. geto gazes at you with a knowing look, watches you glance at the box of pastries on your coffee table — studying you under the monochrome flicker of the tv-screen. 
”understood,” he finally quips, leaning back into the leather couch, exhaling a little breath. ”eat as much as you’d like. i bought them for you, you know.”
you nod, nibbling at a macaron. not glancing his way.
being alone with him still feels a little awkward. a little tense, to be curled up on the same couch, watching the same movie, just like your old sleepovers in high school. there’s an elephant in the room that neither of you have addressed — not since he first showed up, just a couple weeks ago, waltzing up to your apartment with a plastic bag of dvds after a decade of estrangement. wearing heavy robes, and a familiar smile. asking to be let in.
and despite every single circumstance telling you not to, you did just that. you’ve yet to refuse. 
(satoru would hate you, if he knew.)
so he’s there, right beside you, and you don’t talk about it. not his choice, not your work, not anything except the movie playing on the screen in front of you. this time, it’s one he’s seen before — beautiful, he called it, and for once you think it might be a romance; if the kiss between the main actors is anything to go by. 
you wonder if that’s why he says it.
”say, do you hate me?”
you still. freezing in place, for a moment, discontent but not surprised. he’s always been like this; breaking the illusion of peace before you can find any solace in it. 
you bite back a groan, and shoot him a glance out of the corner of your eye — but he isn’t looking at you. only at the tv, at the two men, holding hands and standing on a bridge in the rain, watching the stars twinkle in the sky. and you sigh, turning your head to look at him fully, parting your lips. your voice comes out frustrated. 
”do you really want to have this conversation now?”
”when else?” he chuckles, meeting your gaze with one brow raised. amber eyes gleaming with mirth, and something else, something less practiced. ”you don’t have to answer. i’m just curious.”
you gulp down the last of the macaron, licking your lips for any leftover crumbs — unaware of how his eyes follow the movement. ”are you?”
a hum buzzes in the back of his throat, a tiny rasp. you wonder if he’s tired. ”i hadn’t expected this, you know.” he taps at his knee with the pads of his fingers, rhythmic and controlled. ”i thought it was just wishful thinking… that you’d let me come this close.”
you feel his gaze on you. it’s heavy, heavy like lead, like a loaded gun. you feel it dissect you from afar, and can’t find it in you to reach for another pastry. 
”… would you have preferred being kicked out?”
”not at all.” a little grin plays at his lips, something in his voice betraying the face he’s making. ”are you avoiding the question?” 
another sigh. you’re painfully aware of how resigned it sounds, spilling out into the open air, already filling with a sense of dread; any leftover nostalgia bursting at the seams. you want to tell him so many things, but every thread inside your mind feels all tangled up.
and, as always, getō beats you to the punch. 
”that’s fine, too.” a brief pause, a twitch of his pinkie. he closes his eyes, a flutter of his lashes, and inhales a breath. ”— because i’ll keep waiting.”
for a second, you consider not taking the bait. 
… then you’re giving in. because that’s what you always do, whenever he’s involved. you watch him in the dark, pale skin enveloped by moonlight, raven hair spilling across the headrest. he looks beautiful, just resting his eyes.
”… for what?” you whisper, and his answer comes without a hitch to his breath.
”for you to love me again.”
getō tilts his head, opening his eyes, a golden brown dragging you into their depths. he looks expectant, selfishly awaiting a response, and you’re tired. 
(unbeknownst to you, he resists the urge to intertwine his fingers with yours, to trace every ridge and dip of your knuckles with his thumb. to squeeze your palm like a promise, something concrete.)
when your mind has managed to untangle itself, something in your gaze turns sharp. frustrated, impatient, disappointed, looking at him with a raised brow. ”you really are stupid, aren’t you?”
as fast as it came, your gaze returns to the screen in front of you. monochrome, flickering, two beautiful men. one of them is holding a gun to the other’s temple, and the victim looks appeased. the movie’s almost over.
(how very like him, to find such violence beautiful.)
quietly, you swallow down the bile building up in the back of your throat. a decade of bitter flavours. clenching your teeth, nails digging into the couch beneath you, leather on your cold fingertips. it’s a little peeled.
you wonder why you even bother being honest, when he never quite seems to return the favour.
but the room is dimly lit, and the moon is big and bright, and your ex of ten years is sitting right next to you. in your apartment, on your couch, watching a movie on your tv. when he could, should be anywhere else. he’s with you, and he pulls the words out of your throat without trying. puppeteering your heartbeat.
”… as if i ever stopped.”
silence.
you hear a gunshot ring out. low, muffled, a crackle of static. one of the men falls down to the ground, and you can’t tell who's who. the actors are forgettable, but the soundtrack is pretty. it rings in your ears like a lullaby. 
getō says your name.
it sounds the same as you remember. honeyed syllables, spilling from his parted lips, silky and sweet. he says your name like he’s asking to marry you, and you can hear the smile he’s struggling to repress.
”will you look at me?”
it’s less of a question, and more of a demand. you wonder why he even bothers asking — but you’ve never really understood the way his brain works. never understood why a burglar would bother asking the shopkeeper for permission before reaching for the register, when they’ll be leaving with the money either way. 
and you’re paralyzed, stuck in place on the couch, gaze glued to the screen in front of you. but you aren’t watching, not really, just looking. and you don’t want to see what kind of face he’s making. so you whisper;
”.. no.”
”no?” he mimics, something like a coo on the tip of his tongue, lightly amused. as always, you can feel his gaze, travelling down your face like a trickle of honey. ”and why is that, my dear?”
you bite down on your lip.
a long, long moment passes, and neither of you say a word. he’s looking at you, and you’re looking down at your lap, at your clenched fists. a little meek. it’s quiet, the calm before the storm, and you know exactly what’s going to happen — because it’s already set in stone.
”because you’re going to kiss me,” you exhale, finally, resignation on your breath. ”and i’m going to let you.”
for a second, you wonder if his silence means he understands. if he can hear the desperate plea in your voice, if he can translate it correctly. 
but his fingertips graze the lines of your jaw, his palm sneaks under your chin, and he keeps you in place. turning your head to meet his gaze, his amber eyes, dripping with something hungry; something pleading. 
this time, he doesn’t ask for permission. he leans forward until there’s no space between you, tips your head back, and kisses you with bated breath — as softly as he can manage, which is still too intense for your liking. still brimming with desperation, something carnal, like he wants to pour his everything into the kiss but knows he shouldn’t. he tastes like tobacco.
and it’s over. 
you know it is, because your senses are flooded with him, him, him. nothing but him, the strands of his raven hair ghosting your skin, his greedy tongue licking along your teeth, large palms resting on your spine and the back of your head. you’re pliant, surrendering yourself to his touch. he’s cradling you like he loves you, and you feel like you’ve done something awful, because you have.
because you’ve let him come so close, again, invited him inside — inside of your home, your ribcage. and he won’t bother making a home for himself there, because it’s already waiting for him, untouched, between your fourth and fifth ribs.
you never bothered to get rid of it.
(that’s your sin.)
getō hums, muffled by your lips. he sounds pleased. he sounds like he’s been waiting for this for decades, and you suppose that he has. he murmurs praise that you do nothing but swallow down.
everything feels too perfect, too normal, and it’s too much, too much, too much. your lips pressed together, your chests pressed together, your noses meeting in a tender touch. you choke down the noise that threatens to push past your lips, and he kisses you like a starved man. like he’s trying to drown in you.
he only pulls away once he realizes that you’re crying, and by then it’s too late. his widening eyes don’t matter, your cold hands don’t matter, the tremble of your erratic heartbeat has never mattered less. he looks at you with remorse, and it doesn’t matter. 
(he’s yours, again, and you’re his.
you can’t stop crying.)
”… i’m sorry.”
in the background, you hear the sound of gentle whispers, an ending scene. the men are talking to each other, speaking softly, and your eyes burn with tears. geto catches one of them with his forefinger, and leans forward to plant a kiss against your nose. chaste, this time. still mumbling apologies.
it doesn’t matter, because a tiny sob still breaks past your throat — and you know the sound must hurt him. 
you hate that. you hate that you always hurt him, hate that you care, hate that you feel nothing but guilt when he’s around. you hate the movie still playing to your left, hate that he doesn’t hate it, hate that he loves you. hate that you love him, that you probably always will.
you hate that you blink up at him with glassy eyes, swallow down a shaky breath, and kiss him again. hate that it’s still the only thing you know how to do well.
he doesn’t pull away, only biting back a noise of surprise — but he makes sure to kiss you gently, as if you’re made of porcelain, slow and tender, cradling you closer still. he wipes away your tears with his thumb, one after another, and you hate yourself because everything feels so deliriously right.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that what you’re playing is a losing game. 
(he’s yours, and you’re his. it’s already set in stone.) 
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Hiii love your writingggg, could you plsss do very innocent!reader and pervy!ethan 🫶🏻
Hiii! I hope you like it, even though you requested this MONTHS ago.
I'm not innocent, so I'm not the best at writing it🙃 Hopefully this is okay:)
Creep - Pervy!Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader
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This contains SMUT - Minors DNI
Summary: You ask Ethan for help in econ, and once Mindy mentions the empty bedroom in the apartment she shares with Ethan and Chad, you agree to move in. But you realize that your sweet, dorky new roommate has been stealing your panties.
Contains: Pervy kinda creepy Ethan, innocent inexperienced reader, fingering. m!masturbation.
A/N: Okay...this needs a part 2 but I'm already at 5k words lmao. A lot of fics I've read along these lines had had Ethan more subby, but not in this one. 👀
*For the poll I posted earlier today, this one had the most votes at the time of me posting this fic. I'm going to write them all in the order that they're wanted:)*
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It seemed like your life was starting to fall apart. You couldn’t stand your roommate, your boyfriend had broken up with you, and your grade for econ was starting to tank. When you brought up your grade to your professor after class, hoping to figure out some way to raise it, she suggested that you talk to Ethan Landry.
The next time you had class, you beelined towards him once he walked in. He noticed you, getting a little nervous the closer you got. He wasn’t the best at talking to girls, he even thought this could’ve been a figment of his imagination that the girl he struggled to take his eyes off was walking to him. He was chewing the inside of his cheek, his eyes not leaving you until you were finally face to face.
“Ethan, right?” you sweetly said, as he nodded. “I hear you’re the best for tutoring, and I desperately need your help if you have the time.”
“I’ll make the time,” he spat out, before he internally screamed at himself for sounding so desperate to help. “I mean, I can help you.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” you said, as you pulled out your phone. “What’s your number?”
“Oh, um…” he trailed off, racking his brain for those ten digits that he suddenly forgot. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“It’s okay,” you smiled, “Are you okay with me just giving you my number and you can text me so we can set something up?”
“Yeah,” he said, as he pulled out his phone and went to create a new contact. He passed you his phone as you typed in your name and number, before you handed it back to him.
“Don’t forget to text me,” you said, a sweet smile playing on your lips as you turned to walk back to your seat.
“I won’t,” he said, tightly gripping his phone in his hand as you turned to smile at him once more.
He was struggling to focus as he sat through that class. His fingers kept rubbing over the phone screen that your thumbs had moved across, and he started to realize how pathetic he was for already being so addicted to you when you’d only spoken to him once.
Later that week, you were supposed to meet Ethan in the library to study. You both completely forgot about the renovations they were doing, the normally quiet space filled with the loud sounds of the various pieces of machinery on the opposite side of the room.
“Maybe we should try to do this some other time,” you yelled over the noise. “I can’t concentrate on anything you’re saying.”
“Oh, okay,” Ethan said, looking down so you wouldn’t see the sad look on his face. That’s when he started to get an idea. “My apartment is only two blocks away. It should be quieter. You want to come over to study?”
You liked to be cautious, and you normally wouldn’t go to someone’s apartment that you barely knew, but Ethan seemed innocent enough, and you desperately needed to pass the class so you wouldn’t have to take it again.
“Sure,” you said, wincing as the noise in the room got louder.
You walked beside Ethan as you went to his apartment, and even though it was just for studying, he felt a glint of pride as he walked with you. He hoped that anyone who saw you together would think you were his.
“Hopefully my roommates won’t be too loud,” Ethan sighed, as he stuck his key in the front door.
“Nothing is worse than what’s going on in the library right now,” you said, as he shrugged.
“You say that now…”
You barely made it inside when you heard arguing. Ethan sighed in defeat before he turned to you, “I moved in with my friends, and they’re constantly arguing.”
“Oh,” you giggled, as you followed him into the living room of the apartment. “Oh, hey Mindy,” you said, as she turned to you and smiled.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” she asked, as she walked over to you. Chad just stood there, still worked up from the spat they were having when you walked in.
“Ethan’s trying to help me not fail econ,” you said, as she nodded.
“I remember you mentioning you were having trouble with it.”
Ethan was confused as he stood there, because Mindy had never mentioned you, but she seemed to know you quite well. The two of you talked for a few minutes, and once Ethan heard another guy’s name get mentioned, he immediately got jealous.
“I’m proud of you for not giving him another chance,” Mindy said, as you let out a small laugh.
“I’m not going to say I didn’t think about it, but I don’t need him making my life any harder than it needs to be right now,” you sighed, “On top of the bullshit with him, my roommate is just so awful. Like, she woke me up blasting music before the sun even came up today. I’m trying to find somewhere else to live, but I haven’t had any luck yet.”
“Well, we’re looking for a fourth roommate…” Mindy trailed off, as Ethan’s eyes grew wide. “It’d be nice to have another girl here.”
“Don’t tempt me,” you joked, as Mindy smiled.
“Seriously, think about it,” she said, before she started to yell. “Chad!”
You noticed that the other boy was no longer in the room, but you saw him again as he turned the corner and groaned. “What?”
“Okay, don’t be rude,” she snapped, “I’m trying to convince her to move into the fourth bedroom.”
“Oh,” Chad said, his annoyed face turning up in a smile. “Hey, I’m Chad.”
“Hey,” you said, before he started to go over rent and other things you’d need to know. “Why would I want to move in when you two argue like this?” you joked, as Chad tried to play it off.
“We shared a womb, we lived in the same house until we moved into our dorms, and I finally got a break from her,” he said, as she scoffed, “But now we have to live together again and we’re trying to figure out how to do that.”
“I’ve never lived with boys before…and I’m sure my parents would kill me if they ever found out, but I’ll definitely think about it,” you said, before you turned to Ethan. “I’m sorry, you want to study now?”
“Yeah, let’s go to my room,” he said, as he led you there.
You both got settled on his bed. He sat across from you, his back against the headboard as you adjusted to get more comfortable, laying on your stomach. He bit his lip once he noticed the perfect view he had down your shirt, the neckline barely covering anything as your chest was pressed against his bed.
“So, where should we start?” you asked, your soft voice barely getting his attention as he kept staring at your chest. He wanted to squeeze your boobs, suck on them, fuck them, even. “Ethan?” you questioned as you looked away from your notebook, and opened your laptop, completely blocking the sight he was fantasizing over.
“Oh, uh…” he said, as he opened his laptop. “Maybe let’s work on the quiz that’s due this weekend. It’ll show me what you do and don’t need help with.”
You spent over an hour studying with Ethan, and you felt like you were having a little bit of a better understanding. You were starting to get hungry, so you closed your laptop. Ethan glanced over his screen the second he noticed, getting another peak down your shirt again. This time, he saw a part of one of your nipples peaking out of your bra, the sight making his pants grow tighter. He fought off the sound that was threatening to come out before you sat up, once again taking his perfect view away from him.
“I’m starving,” you said, as you started to put your stuff away. “But thank you so much for your help, and I hope you’ll want to keep helping me. You’re my only hope.”
He softly chuckled at your words, “If you move in, we can study whenever you want.”
“You’d be cool with it?” you asked, smiling at him. “You didn’t really say anything out there and I didn’t want to actually start considering it until you said something.”
“Yeah, I think it’s cool,” he said, “If you do want to, and you need help moving or anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Ethan,” you said, smiling again before you made your way out of his room.
He wanted to walk you to the door, but he knew the second he stood up, his hard cock would be so obvious. He ran his hand over the spot you were laying on the bed, your warmth still soaked up by his comforter. The view down your shirt was burned in his brain as he got up and walked over to the door, shutting and locking it before he dropped his pants to give his aching cock the attention it desperately needed.
The next time you had econ, you walked in and sat down beside Ethan. He didn’t notice at first, but he soon smelled the familiar scent that he couldn’t get out of his head after you’d left his apartment a few days before. He wasn’t sure if it was your hair or the perfume you were wearing, but it smelled delicious.
“Hey,” he smiled, his pupils growing large as he saw you. “Are you okay?”
He took in the stress on your face, and how tired you looked.
“Yeah, are you sure you’re cool with me moving in?” you asked, “Because I can’t deal with my roommate anymore.”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, “What happened?”
“She invites her boyfriend to stay over whenever she doesn’t have class the next morning,” you sighed, “I don’t want to explain all the sounds I had to listen to while I tried to sleep last night.”
“Oh,” he said softly, “Well, your room would be beside mine, and I wouldn’t keep you up all night.”
“I bet that’s why I’m failing this class right now. I never sleep,” you said, as you looked over to him. “Wait, you don’t have a girlfriend that stays over?”
“No,” he said, his cheeks turning pink at your question.
“Sex is overrated,” you shrugged, “But I really thought you would’ve had a girlfriend.”
“Really?” he asked, as your professor walked in.
“Yeah, you’re a cutie,” you smiled, before you directed your attention to the lecture.
Ethan was thankful that you were so focused and didn’t see the cheesy smile on his face. The girl he’d been thinking about as he jerked his cock for the last few days called him cute, and his heart was swelling.
After a couple weeks, Ethan, Chad, and Mindy showed up to the apartment you currently lived in while your roommate was at her boyfriend’s to help you move.
“First, I want you guys to know that none of this mess is mine,” you said, as soon as you answered the front door for them.
“Whoa,” Chad said as he glanced around. “There’s no way you live with a girl.”
“Yeah, you’ll never guess what I found on the kitchen floor this morning,” you said, as Mindy started to think.
“With the mess, I’m going to guess…dead mouse?”
“Not even close,” you said, as you shook your head and shuddered as you thought about it. “It was a condom.”
“Like…in the wrapper or…?” Chad asked, as you, once again, shook your head.
“Used.”
“Ewwww,” Mindy said, cringing at the thought.  “Okay, is anything in the kitchen yours?”
“I already boxed that stuff up. Except the dishes that she’s refused to wash,” you said, as you led them to the living room. “The TV is mine, and that lamp,” you said, as you pointed, “But other than that, I really just have to worry about my room.”
“I think it’d be best to have all the heavy stuff in the living room so Ethan and I can worry about that,” Chad said, as you nodded and led them down the hall.
You had already packed up most of your room, which made it so easy for your new roommates to help you. Once Chad was carrying your mattress out and Mindy had ran out to get coffee, Ethan started to glance around your room. He noticed the hamper full of clothes in the corner, and he found himself inching closer towards it as he listened to you and Chad talk in the living room. Before he could stop himself, he grabbed a shirt off the top of the pile, inhaling its scent. He let out a deep breath before he went to put the shirt back in the hamper, before he noticed some black lace sticking out under a pair of your jeans. He snatched it out of the basket and put it in his pocket before he put the shirt back in it once he heard footsteps coming back down the hall.
“Did you need help with this?” Ethan asked, pointing to the basket, trying to make it not seem like he was being weird.
“Shit, I forgot to do laundry,” you groaned, as the realization hit him that the panties he’d grabbed had been worn. “I’ll carry that out.”
“Okay,” Ethan said, before Chad motioned for him to help with the dresser.
Later that day after you got your stuff moved into your new room, you flopped on your freshly made bed as Mindy popped in.
“So, I’m going to try to convince the guys to share a bathroom so you don’t have to share with Ethan,” she said, as you shrugged.
“It’s not a big deal,” you said, “I just hope he doesn’t mind all the girly stuff in the shower and the makeup and stuff.”
Ethan didn’t mind at all. In fact, he’d already been in the bathroom, smelling your body wash, your shampoo and conditioner. The skincare products you used. He realized that all those things together were the cause of the scent that made his head spin.
Later that night after you had takeout with everyone, Ethan excused himself to go to bed. He couldn’t stop thinking about your panties that were still in his pocket. Once he pulled them out, he ran his fingers over the lace before taking in your scent. He softly groaned before he dropped his pants, the thoughts of his face buried in your pussy making him harder by the second. He had them tightly clutched in his fist as he started to stroke himself with his free hand, small whimpers flying out of his mouth as he tried to imagine how soft your hand would feel wrapped around him. His bottom lip was in between his teeth once he started to get louder, the tip of his cock red as be brought himself closer to the edge. Just as he was about to cum, he deeply inhaled the scent of your panties one more time before he rubbed them against the tip of his cock, his thick, white ropes covering the lace.
You thought living with boys was going to be difficult, but your first month wasn’t bad. You were surprised at how clean they liked everything to be, and Ethan always put the toilet seat down. You started to get close to your dorky roommate, especially once you spent so much time studying together. You already thought he was cute, but once you actually got to know more about him, you realized that he was so sweet, so nice. He might’ve been a little shy, too, but he got to the point where he was doing cute little things to make you laugh.
One day, you went to do your laundry in the apartment. You walked over and were about to throw stuff in when you noticed clothes were already inside, and Ethan quickly rounded the corner with the rest of the stuff he needed to toss in.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, “You want me to take my stuff out? I can wash it later.”
“No, it’s fine, I’ll wait,” you said with a smile, before you noticed something familiar in the washer. “Oh,” you said, your cheeks turning pink as you reached out and grabbed your panties out of the washer. “Must’ve dropped these in.”
Ethan’s eyes grew wide as he noticed them in your hand, the realization hitting you that they were sticky.
“Eww, what is all over these?” you said, a disgusted look on your face as you tried to figure it out. You looked over to Ethan, his face bright red and his eyes huge, when you pieced it together. “Ethan…”
He just stared at you, the silence deafening as he tried to think of something, anything to say to you. He’d gotten away with stealing your panties for a month, but it was a way for him to feel close to you, and satisfy some of the sexual frustration he had whenever he thought about you.
“What’s on my panties?” you questioned, as he tensed up. “Actually, I don’t think I want to know.”
You tossed them back in the washer and walked past him and headed straight to the bathroom to wash your hands. When you went to your room and shut the door, Ethan huffed and tossed in the rest of stuff that was in his hands before he started the washer.
As the day went by, you couldn’t stop thinking about Ethan, and how you’d noticed that pairs of your panties had been going missing ever since you moved in. But then you’d randomly see them again, in the top drawer of your dresser after a few days. You didn’t think Ethan was like that, and it made you feel a little uneasy to live with him.
Later that night, you had to say something to him. You walked out of your room and glanced around the apartment for him, before you walked to his closed door and started to knock. He eased it open after a few seconds, his eyes connecting with yours through the small crack.
“Can we talk?” you asked, as he took a deep breath and hesitantly opened the door for you.
You walked in and took a seat on the side of the bed, your gaze on his floor as you tried to think of the right way to talk to him.
“You want me to leave the door open,” he asked, barely above a whisper as you shook your head no.
“If Mindy or Chad come home, I don’t want them to hear the conversation.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, before he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”
“Why were you stealing my panties?” you asked, as he took a deep breath.
“I can’t explain it without sounding like the total creep you probably already think I am.”
“So…that was what I thought it was on them,” you said, as you turned to look at him. He nodded, looking away to not meet your gaze.
“Again, I am so sorry,” he said, “I know you probably hate me, and I understand if you don’t want to be around me. I’ll stay in my room so you don’t have to see me.”
“I’m just a little confused,” you said softly, as he finally let his eyes connect with yours. “What’s so exciting about my panties?”
At that moment, one thing you said to Ethan started to play in his head. ‘Sex is overrated.’ He was questioning how much experience you actually had.
“Do you really not know or are you fucking with me?” he questioned.
“Like, does it feel good? How does it even turn you on?” you asked, curiously staring at him.
“They uh…yeah, it feels good when I uh…rub them on myself. And they smell like you.”
“They smell like fabric softener and laundry detergent,” you said, a small laugh slipping out as he shook his head.
“I haven’t been stealing clean ones…they smell like you.”
“Oh,” you said, as you looked away from him. “That turns you on?”
“You have no idea,” he said, and even though the conversation was uncomfortable, he was getting hard.
“Why are guys so weird?” you thought out loud, laughing a little as you shook your head. “So does that mean that you like me? Or you’re like…sexually attracted to me? I still don’t fully get it.”
“Both,” he said, “I think you’re so beautiful, and I’ve had so much fun with you this last month…but I also think about you in a different way, too. Ya know?”
“I’ve thought about you that way, too,” you admitted, “It’d kind of hard not to. I hear you through the walls all the time.”
“You’ve heard me?” he asked, a blush spreading to his cheeks. “I’m sorry, I know you hated when you heard your old roommate.”
“I like it when I hear you,” you said so softly that he barely heard it.
“Do you touch yourself when you hear me?”
Your breathing got heavier at his question, and Ethan noticed. You were getting so flustered under his gaze.
“I…I’ve tried to,” you said, as you took in the curious look on his face.
“Tried to?” he asked, “What do you mean?”
“Like…I know what feels good, but I can never get myself…there, if you know what I mean.”
“You’ve never made yourself cum?” he questioned, admiring how cute you looked as you got embarrassed.
“No one has.”
“No one?” he asked, his throat dry at the thought. “Are you a virgin?”
“No…but I’ve never enjoyed sex. Like, it feels good, but I think it’s so disappointing when you hear how amazing orgasms are and then I just never get one.”
Ethan expected the conversation that was happening to go so differently. He thought you hated him, but there you were, telling him that you’d tried to get yourself off when you’d heard him. The thought of him being the first one to make you cum had him salivating, but he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if he offered.
“Have you ever…given someone an orgasm?” you asked, as he nodded. “I’m jealous of whoever she is.”
“Don’t be,” he said, scooting a little closer to you. “Fuck, I’d make you cum all the time if I could.”
“Really?” you smiled, “If you ever want to, I’m right next door,” you joked, as he smiled and shook his head.
“Hey, don’t offer that or I’ll be in your room every day.”
You were starting to squirm against his bed, your thighs rubbing together so subtly that he could barely tell. The sexual tension was so thick, your breathing getting heavier as you thought about how good Ethan would make you feel.
“I think I need to go back to my room,” you said, as you started to stand up. That’s when you glanced at Ethan’s lap, noticing the tent in his sweatpants.
“Do you really want to?” he asked, “Because if you want me to take care of you right now, I will.”
“Seriously?” you questioned, as he smiled and nodded.
“Come here,” he said, reaching out to grab your hands, pulling you to him.
Once Ethan leaned in to kiss you, he was almost taken aback by how quickly your lips were moving against his. He was desperate for you, but you were just as desperate for him. He matched your pace before he pushed you back on the bed, his hand running from your hip, up your ribs, until it landed on your breast. You gasped into the kiss once he squeezed it.
You had massive butterflies in your stomach once you felt his cock pressing against your thigh through his sweatpants, your head was spinning, but you were loving every second of it.
“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, once he pulled away to catch his breath. “I think we should go to your room.”
“Why?” you asked because you didn’t want to stop. You needed his lips back on yours.
“Because you have that full length mirror leaning against your wall,” he said, chuckling once you noticed the confused look on your face. “I want you to see what I’m doing to make you cum…in case I’m never here to help you.”
“Okay,” you said, as he stood up and grabbed your hands.
Once he opened his bedroom door, he listened to make sure he didn’t hear anyone else in the apartment before he walked out and to your room next door. He shut and locked your bedroom door once he made it inside, before he pulled you into another kiss. His hands held onto your hips until they started to rub against the flesh under the hem of your shirt. He kept inching it further and further up, until he pulled away to pull it over your head. His lips went back to yours as he reached around to unhook your bra, his hands squeezing at your breasts once they were free.
His mouth moved to your neck as his hands explored your body, before they snaked under the waistband of your leggings. He moved them down over your hips as you shimmied out of them, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He recognized them as the first pair he ever stole, the black lacy ones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, as his hand moved to rub you over your panties. The material was soaked as you moaned at the feeling. “That feel good?”
“Yes,” you said, quickly nodding your head just in case he needed the extra confirmation. “So good.”
“I hate that I have to take these off you,” he said, as he inched the fabric down your thighs, leaving you completely nude in front of him. “I’m going to sit on the floor in front of the mirror, and I want you to sit between my legs.”
“Okay,” you said, as he took a seat on the floor, his legs spreading for you to sit. You did as he said, looking at him in the mirror as he spread your legs, placing your feet on either side of his legs on the floor.
You watched him lick two of his fingers before he placed them against your clit, rubbing slow circles. Your eyes stayed on the reflection of his hand, your mouth parting as you started to breathe faster. He added a little more pressure as you fully relaxed back into his chest, the softest moans slipping out as he went a little faster.
“Ethaaan,” you whined out, the noise quickly becoming his new favorite sound.
“Shh, I don’t know if anyone else is here,” he said softly, “Just keep your legs spread for me, baby.”
He rubbed a few more circles on your clit before his fingers moved lower, one of them slipping inside you. He pumped it in and out for a minute before he added another, as you angled your neck to look up at him. He leaned down to kiss you as his fingers moved, before he started to mumble against your lips.
“If you ever finger yourself, this…” he said, as he curved them just right, a low moan flying out of your mouth, “Is the spot that needs attention. Okay baby?”
“Okay,” you whimpered, as he moved his fingers faster.
The sounds you were making just kept getting louder, and Ethan was just hoping and praying that no one else was home. One of your hands clung to his thigh as your other hand wrapped around his wrist, as you started to feel…different. It felt so good, and the last thing you wanted was for him to stop. Once he went even faster, the squelching sound of your wet pussy and your whimpers filling the room, your legs were trying so hard to close as your toes curled against the carpet on the floor.
“Oh my god,” you moaned, your fluttering eyes watching his hand in the mirror as your body started to tingle.
“Cum for me baby,” he encouraged, as you finally let that feeling wash over your body. You were jolting, your eyes screwed shut as his fingers started to slow, his free hand roaming your chest as you let out all your sounds.
Once you fully relaxed in his arms, he placed a kiss to the top of your head as your hazy eyes connected with his in the mirror.
“Now you can’t say no one’s ever made you cum,” he said with a smile, as he slid his fingers out of you. “Did it feel good?”
“That was better than I thought it was going to be,” you said, “Thanks, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.”
You sat there in silence for a minute as you felt his cock pressing against you, and you wanted so badly to take care of him, until you heard commotion in the apartment.
“Hey, guysss,” Chad yelled, as he walked down the hall.
You tensed up as you glanced at your door, before Ethan whispered, “It’s okay, I locked it.”
You relaxed again before Chad started to yell again, “Tara’s here!”
You forgot about hanging out with Mindy and Tara for the night, and you didn’t want to pull away from Ethan, but you hesitantly did, your legs wobbling as you tried to stand. Ethan got up to help you, and once you got your bearings, he started to grab your clothes off the floor for you.
“Thanks,” you said, before you noticed him pick up your panties.
“No, thank you,” he joked, a smirk playing on his lips as he backed towards your door. “I’ll see you when you get back in the morning.”
“I better still have panties in that top drawer when I get back.”
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sykostyles · 3 days
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melodies | 1.0
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summary: he's the most powerful & ruthless mafia boss in the city, and she's just a music store owner. but once he hears her singing voice, he wants nothing more than to hear it for the rest of his life..and she's not so sure about that.. he'll do anything to change that. wc: 3.1k
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warnings: none this time around!
a/n: hi babies! I disappeared again but I swear I'm here! I won't lie to you all, I lost momentum for a bit but my dear love @gurugirl gave me the idea of repurposing my jjk fics for Harry! so this is my first attempt at that. I hope you all enjoy!
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Harry had been renovating his new estate for about a year now. Deciding on only the best of the best, but when it came to musical items that he wanted placed variously around his house; he wanted something more lived in. More story holding. Something that looks like it had been used and loved by many. That’s where he found you and your little shop “Encore Records” in the heart of downtown. 
He wanted a grand piano, but he didn't just want any grand piano. He wanted the grand piano you had on display in your store. The one your grandfather left to you from his touring days. Your grandfather was a traveling artist, carting this piano around to every city, every country. It’d been more places than you. It sat dead center in your shop, surrounded by records, plants and various instruments customers could test out before placing orders. The only thing unavailable to order was the piano. It served as a centerpiece that you played fairly often, especially while customers perused the store and Ellie ran the cash register.  
Harry had been stopping in probably two or three times a week to try talking you into selling him the piano for his home; not taking no for an answer. Sometimes Ellie would have to fend him off while you were working in the back. Ellie would then always dash to the back to tell you what happened before another customer would walk in.
“That big mafia guy was in here again!” she says, tapping you on the shoulder.
“Huh?” you ask, pulling one of your earbuds out., slightly startled from the touch.
“You know, the tall darkhaired one who’s hot as fuck, and defintely thinks the same about you,” Ellie says, motioning to your frame, giggling at your disgusted look. “The one with the huge hands,” she winked at you.
“Ellie, he wants the piano, not me.”
“Girl, he wants both.” she chuckles, “You’re allowed to be proud of yourself,” and she's leaving you alone. Proud of yourself for what? For some Yakuza man coming into your store every day, possibly scaring off possible customers? Not everyone wants to come in here when there’s a guy with a gun strapped to his chest, followed by three other men who are also armed. 
He’d offered you millions of dollars in return for the piano, but no amount of money could replace the memories you have sitting with your grandfather at this piano every night while he taught you how to play. Or the nights you’d gotten to be with him on tour and see him on stage sitting at the damn thing every night. There was no way you were going to give it up. But there was no way he was going to give up either.
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It was a rainy Tuesday the next time Harry decided to come in. Another attempt at your piano, but today something in him changed.
Walking in, Harry notices you’d just opened so there weren't any customers yet. You still haven't fixed the doorbell either, another thing he’ll have to chastise you for today. He hears you before he sees you, singing along with the radio playing Forever Young by Rod Stewart through the speakers of your store, as you stand behind the counter on a step ladder rearranging the wall of weekly favorites. 
“And may you grow to be proud
Dignified and true..”
Harry can’t believe his ears; the angelic timbre of your voice and how it just rolls right off of your tongue so effortlessly.
“And do unto others
As you'd have done to you..”
He could listen to you all day long. In fact, he just might. He takes a seat on the piano bench, and just listens.
“Be courageous and be brave
And in my heart you'll always stay
Forever young, forever young
Forever young, forever young”
Once the song is over, you turn on the stool to grab something behind you, and you're startled by Harry’s presence. 
“Jesus, Styles. Didn’t anyone teach you to knock?” you nearly fall off of the ladder,
“On a business’ door? No.” he smirks at you. “Didn’t anyone tell you to fix your doorbell? Pretty sure I did last week. And the week before that,” Harry counts on his fingers, scolding you, “I’ll just have someone come do it for you.” He snaps his fingers, pointing at the man standing on his right. A tall, broad man with blonde hair. He smiles as he pulls his phone from inside his jacket.
“No, no Styles. Boundaries, remember?” you watch as he strides over to you, offering you his hand to help you off the ladder, but you ignore his gesture; placing your hands on the back of the ladder, stepping down, and turning to face him.
“Birdie, I’m not taking no for an answer. Your safety is at risk, and that’s not okay.” He retorts, the blonde haired man already returning from making the phone call. He looks to Harry, giving him a singular nod, to which Harry nods back. “Repair man will be here soon.”
“Why do you even care? If I died, you could probably get a good deal on the piano.” your eyes involuntarily roll,  “And I told you Birdie is reserved for my friends and those fortunate enough to see me naked, and you are neither of those things. Nor are you buying my piano.” Your hands are planted firmly on your hips as the words leave you.
Birdie was a nickname your grandfather gave you when you were young. Always running about singing like a bird. He’d scoop you up and you’d squeal, making him laugh with you. You were just a little birdie that wanted to sing her heart out. It’s what your mother wanted before she passed away. This store was your way of honoring your mother and your grandfather. They both instilled your love of music into you. 
Mom loved singing karaoke anywhere she could; praying she’d get recognized by someone who saw potential in her. And oh boy, did she. But she had you and you were her main priority and nobody could deal with that when she’d mentioned she had a daughter to the talent agents. Her heart was broken but watching you grow up was what she really enjoyed. She just made sure you had the same love for music as she did.
“Ouch, you don’t see me as a friend yet? I practically come to see you every day.” he trails his fingertips up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Plus, if you were to die, I wouldn't be able to ask you to sing to me every day.”
“You weren’t supposed to hear that. Nobody was,” you mutter. Nobody had heard you sing since before your grandfather passed away. He always begged you to go on tour with him and sing some of his songs with him but you always doubted your ability.
“Well, maybe if your doorbell was working, you could have stopped before I did.” The cocky man stands before you, hands in his pockets as he retracts them.
“Do you like hearing the sound of your own voice? Wouldn’t you rather listen to music?”
“Mm, sometimes. But the only music I want to hear is your voice telling me “I love you” for the rest of my life.”
“Fat chance, Mr. Mafia man. Now, if you’re not here for anything other than to bother me about my doorbell and my piano, please leave.” your hands make haste to wipe the counter off before you lean back on the ladder. “What about a date?” you nearly choke on your own oxygen at his question.
“I’m sorry?” you giggle your response, unable to believe what he’d just said. Maybe Ellie was right.
“You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles, “I’ll repeat it for you. I’d like to take you out on a date, Birdie.”
“Sty–”
“Harry. I’ve told you to call me Harry.” You don't miss the way his men behind him offer each other uneasy glances. He must not let anyone refer to him by his first name, and you’re not about to start either.
“Styles, that’s not going to happen.”
“You wound me some more,” he dramatically clutches his chest, “I’ll change your mind one day.. Just watch,” he says as he makes his way to the door, his men leaving before he does. “Have a good day, Birdie. See you tomorrow.”
You’re staring into space as he leaves, thinking of the extravagant date he’d probably take you on. He’d probably be able to give you the Pretty Woman moment you’ve always dreamed of. The heels, the long red dress, the lipstick to perfectly match and the updo hairstyle to tie it all together. Harry would probably make the best Edward Lewis in your life. But you’d never admit that out loud.
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An unknown amount of time passes before you’re startled again; Ellie’s voice snaps you out of it. “Helloooo, Earth to Y/N!” she snaps her fingers in front of your face.
“Shit, sorry. I was stuck, haha,” you rub your eyes before looking at her face and offering her a smile. She hands you the coffee she had hid under her arm before tucking her belongings under the counter. You went back up the step ladder after grabbing the dust rag you’d gone looking for before you were so graciously interrupted by Harry. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Why did Mafia man just tell me you agreed to go on a date with him?”
“Huh?” you quickly turn to face her on the ladder, the legs wobbling under your jerking movements.
“He walked by me on my way up the sidewalk saying he finally got you to agree to a date and that I owed him the hundred bucks we bet on.”
“HUH?” nearly losing your footing for the second time today, you make your way down the ladder.
“Why are you acting like you don't know what I'm talking about?” she eyes you quizzically.
“Because I don’t know what you’re talking about! What bet?” your hands find your hips again.
“Why are you more interested in my wrong doings? He’s out here lying about you!” Ellie waves her hands back and forth, feigning innocence. 
“And my best friend is betting against me!”
“Semantics! C’mon, y’know I'm not actually going to pay him. He’s got more money than any one person knows what to do with.”
“That’s not the point, Ellie. You bet against me! How could you?” you toss the dust rag at her, feigning annoyance.
“Because I see the way you look at him when he’s here!” she tosses it back at you. 
“Ellie, he’s literally a yakuza. I can’t entangle myself in that, whether I like him or not,” you’d love to just let him spend a night with you but, a night with him is a night with five other people that go everywhere with him.
“Birdie, you have to live a little. Enjoy the thrill. Plus, he’d probably keep you so safe.”
“While simultaneously putting me in the most danger I've ever been in.
“Okay, but the one with the double buns on top of his head is hot and I want that one so i need you to take one for the team and go on a date with this man.”
“Is that your part of some deal you made?” you jokingly accuse her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, just go on a date with him.”
“You go on a date with him,” you huff and you leave her up front. To which it only lasts about fifteen minutes before she’s coming into the back room telling you some random guy is there fixing the doorbell and isn't taking ‘no’ for an answer.. 
You just roll your eyes.
Ellie just wants you to be happy, no matter the cost. And you think maybe she’s not weighing the cost as much as you are. Sure, you’d be under protection at all times but the fact that the protection needs to be there at all times means you’re in just as much danger. Which does not totally sit right with you, but he is very persistent. And fairly beautiful. But you have to think with your brain and not your vagina for once.
A few hours later, you’re rearranging the Pop section of records when the phone rings. Ellie picks up with her normal “Encore Records, this is Ellie,” a few seconds pass before you hear her speak again. “Hm, let me ask real fast she’s right here. Hey, Birdie, do you have a piano lesson available tonight at 6?” 
“Humm, I think so, check in my calendar. Take it if I do, please!” you go back to putting the Ariana Grande records in order by year. You hear Ellie laugh with the customer on the phone before she hangs up, thanking them for their business. “So do I have a piano lesson at 6 now?”
“Yeah, said his son's name was Niall and that he had been hounding him to learn piano from the lady at the big CD store.”
“His son sounds adorable! I’m looking forward to teaching him.” you smile at the thought.
“You just like the ego boost,” Ellie side eyes you with a laugh.
“You should try shutting up,” you chuckle, going back to arranging your floor inventory; moving to the Metal section.
Six rolls around and you’re pulling the sheet music you have for teaching beginners around on the stand. Ellie makes her way up front to gather her things, reaching under the counter and turning the lights down.
A huff leaves you, “Hey, I still have that piano lesson tonight.”
“I know,” she gives you a look, “Have the best time, Birdie, and she’s out the door.” Uh, okay?
Right after Ellie leaves, the doorbell sounds again and you turn to be met with Harry.
“Styles, I have a piano less–,” you pause, “There is no piano lesson for a boy named Nial is there?”
“He’s Niall,” Harry motions behind him to the man who called about your doorbell earlier. “And I’m the one who’s here for the lesson.”
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Seated at the bench next to him, you can't believe you’re actually going through with this. But if he hadn’t put a deposit down over the phone, you wouldn't have. Clearly Harry and Ellie had cooked this scheme up somehow. You almost appreciate the effort.
“You don’t seem to need a lesson,” you remark, watching him mimic your motions without even trying.
“Would you be upset with me if I said I didn't?” He starts playing Forever Young on the piano, making your eyes widen.
“Not upset, confused,” your eyes are glued to his hands, fingers flowing effortlessly over the keys.
“Just wanted an excuse to talk to you for longer than a few minutes.” Harry’s hands keep up the melody.
“You’re not going to let this up are you?” your eyes roll for the millionth time because of this man. He has a way of making your skin crawl in a good way. But again that’s something you’d never admit;
“After I heard that singing voice? Never,” he smiles over at you, continuing to play the song on the keys. “Will you show it to me again? Please, Birdie?”
“If I say yes will you stop asking to buy my grandfather's piano?” fat chance, but you’ll try anyway.
“Scouts honor,” he winks. Huh? That easy? “Or is he just that in love with you?” You can hear Ellie say in your head. Shut up. 
As you begin singing along with his playing, Harry’s smile grows in size. His hands and arms move effortlessly across the piano, fully impressing you as you watch in awe. The words flow out of you like they did earlier today.
Once you finish, Harry looks at you like you just told him he’d won the lottery. Not that he needed to win the lottery. “You really have such an amazing voice,” he breathes out, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. 
“I’d call it a good harmonizing voice,” you chuckle. “I sound better with the radio.”
“I’m sorry, was I the only one with ears for the last three minutes? Mitch? Niall?” he makes you chuckle next to him as he turns to the men behind him
“I heard it Sir,” they both said in unison.
“And how did she sound?”
“Lovely, sir.” Niall says, looking over to you with a friendly smile.
“I have to agree with Niall,” Mitch says, without a smile. He seems to be more of a hardass than the other one. 
“Ah, so you are the delusional one here,” Harry turns his attention back to you. 
“Shut up. Lesson’s over,” you laugh.
“Aw, but I was just getting started. How about a date then? We can take the rest of this time somewhere else.”
“You would love that wouldn’t you?” leaves you in the form of a laugh.
“Certainly. Cmon, Y/N. I know the best place down the road. Whadya say?”
“I say you’re dreaming,” you stand from the piano bench. Walking over to the light switch, you turn the lights all the way up, making everyone wince at the sight. “And now it's time to wake up, Styles.”
“I’ll make it so worth your while. Please, just once chance, That’s all I’m asking for,” he stands and makes his way over to you. “Please, Birdie.” he runs his thumb over your cheek, you lean into the touch before you realize what you’re doing.
“If I say yes and I have a horrible time, can I reserve the right to ask you to leave me alone permanently?”
“Of course. I’d swear on it to never show my face in here again. But I promise we won’t have to worry about that. So tonight then?”
“Not tonight, how about tomorrow? After I close for the night?’
“It’s a date,” He smiles. “I’ll pick you up,”
“You mean you’ll all pick me up?” you motion to the guys behind him.
“Nah,” he shakes his head. “They’ll be around, but not with us. I want you to be comfortable.”
“Maybe you should have started with leaving them outside then,” you roll your eyes, “No offense, boys,”
“None taken,” they say in unison again. Harry snaps his fingers and the men leave.
“You didn’t have to do that,” a chuckle leaves you again. You head for the door but Harry softly grabs your arm.
“Leave em, I’m heading out anyways, he slides his grip down your arm until he’s holding your hand, offering a kiss to your knuckles. “Until tomorrow, dear Birdie. He kisses your hand once again, turning to leave.
“B-bye, Styles.”
“Harry,”
“If you impress me, then maybe.”
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eddiesxangel · 1 day
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Downhearted | E.M
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Cw: reader with bad mental health (depression/anxiety), bestfriend!Eddie x fem!reader, hurt/comfort, smut 18+ Eddie takes care of reader.
2.4k (this was suppose to be a blurb… oops)
Recently, you have been feeling very low, and despite your best efforts, you are struggling to get back to your usual self. However, your best friend Eddie has not given up on you. He has been by your side, trying to uplift your mood and bring back your smile, but nothing seems to work. Eddie has tried everything in his power to help you, from taking you out for lunch to watching funny movies together, but once you are on your own, everything seems to be crashing down on you even harder.
Your friend is worried about you and wants to see you happy again. He understands how challenging it is to deal with mental health issues and how it can affect your life. That's why he has come up with a last-ditch plan to lift your spirits and make you feel better. He hopes that this plan will work and bring a smile to your face once again.
To make things worse, you have been distancing yourself from your friends for weeks now, and you feel terrible about it. You feel like you're letting them down, especially Eddie, who has been there for you through thick and thin. He has come over at least three times a week since your mental health started to deteriorate again, and he has never given up on you.
This isn't the first time your mental health has plummeted, but this time, it's worse than ever before. You don't even have the energy to try and get better, and you feel like everything is falling apart around you. However, Eddie's unwavering support and his last-ditch plan to lift your spirits give you hope that things will get better soon.
Living alone didn’t help. You would go days without talking to someone, and that only made things worse. So Eddie made it his mission to be there for you. You’ve always been there for him; it’s the least he can do.
You haven’t left your bed today or all week. You’ve been on your phone all day but not really doing anything; you’re numb. Not even videos of kittens could make you feel anything.
You’ve been ignoring Eddie's pleas to help you. Text after text, his contact would pop up, but you paid no mind. So when you hear the knock on your door, you groan, knowing it’s him. You want to do anything but get up, but how could you leave your best friend standing out there? The thought made you sick to your stomach. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good to you, and all you do is bring him down with you.
As you sniffle back your tears and your inner demons, you wrap yourself in your blanket and pad your way slowly to the door.
You open it, and Eddie’s smile falls when he sees you. You haven’t looked at yourself in over a week, and you also haven’t showered in over a week. As Eddie takes in your state, a small, heartbroken “sweetheart” leaves his lips.
He felt so guilty for not being able to visit you last week. He’d been working doubles and was exhausted. Today was his first day off in six days, and he was so excited to spend time with you.
Your vision blurs as you see Eddie standing there with a bag of groceries with food, actual nutrition that you've been depriving yourself of, only aiding your demons.
He drops the bag and wraps his arms around your frail frame, and you break.
“I don’t know what's wrong with me?” Your voice cracks. You can’t remember the last time you spoke words aloud.
Your breath is shaky, and you tremble as you feel Eddie’s strong arms wrapped around you.
His familiar smell only calms you a little, but you’re so exhausted you can no longer hold it together.
He coos you and strokes your greasy hair, not caring how dirty it feels. He understands, he knows.
“Come, let’s get you feeling a little better, ok?”
“I can’t,” your voice shakes.
“Yes, I’ll be right here to help, okay?” He cups your face, gently forcing you to look into his eyes.
He walks you to the kitchen table, and he begs you to drink some water and eat the sandwich he brought over for you.
While you eat, you see Eddie unpack the groceries and then go to your room. A few minutes later, he comes out to throw your sheets in the washer and pulls a fresh pair from your linen closet.
You finish eating as much as you can when Eddie returns from making your bed.
Eddie coerced you to the bathroom. He helps you brush your teeth and convinces you to shower, not daring to joke about how you smell. You say you will as long as he stays in there with you.
Washing yourself was too much to do on your own. So he stood on the other side of the curtain, and you just stood there under the hot water, unable to move.
“Sweetheart? You doing okay?”
Your tears are camouflaged, but your gasps aren’t.
“N-no”
“Do… do you want me to help?” He cringes.
You don’t answer, and it worries Eddie. Had he overstepped? You were naked behind the thin material separating you.
Eddie waits for a few more beats; his heart is pounding. But he releases his breath when he sees your hand push the curtain aside to invite him in.
Nothing would be able to prepare him for the sight before his eyes. You had already started but didn’t get far; some soap suds had already been spread across your chest.
He tried hard to ignore how the blood flow immediately started flowing south. This was not the time to get a boner.
You watched how Eddie removed his shirt and pants in a daze. He kept on his boxers, but you could see the small tent forming.
You didn’t even care that you were naked in front of your best friend because you felt nothing.
You just wanted to feel something.
Eddie stepped in with you and pulled the shower curtain closed. It was so intimate; you and Eddie hadn’t been this close in this way before. But you trusted one another, and there was no awkwardness or hesitation once Eddie squeezed the shampoo in his hands and started.
I felt Eddie’s fingers massage your scalp, and it was nice. The last time someone took care of you like this was when you were a child when you were not old enough to do it yourself.
Eddie ensured that everything was rinsed properly, and then he moved on to the conditioner. He made sure to saturate all your hair before he took the loofa and your body wash.
Now this, was where Eddie got a little nervous. He didn’t want to overstep.
As you stood there, almost catatonic, he lifted your arms to get your armpits, then he ran the soap down your arms, across your back and down your legs, avoiding your more intimate areas.
“You think you can help me out, sweetheart?”
You slowly nod your head, and he passes you the saturated loofa.
Eddie watches as you run it across your chest, lifting a breast to get underneath. Eddie tries not to, but he can’t help but feel aroused. He tries to push it away, but the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable.
He knows you trust him; you’re asking him to help you in your darkest hour.
He shifts, trying to avoid your gaze; it’s only making things harder. Literally.
He pushes away those thoughts and makes sure you’re fully rinsed off. He turns off the water for you and goes to get your towel. He’s soaked, but he doesn’t care; your wellbeing will come first, even if he’s sprouting goosebumps along his flesh.
He takes your hand to guide you out of the tub. You feel slightly better, but it’s not enough.
When a thought pops into your head, you don’t care if it’s stupid, so you act on it without giving it any more thought.
You reach out and graze your hand over Eddie’s soaked boxers. They are taught to his skin, not hide anything, and you can see he’s ready and willing to go.
He steps back at the sudden touch.
“Please, Eddie, I need to feel something, anything. I don’t know what else to do” you sobbed.
As you stand there, feeling lost and alone, Eddie's embrace envelops you, pulling you in closer. In this moment, you know that you are not alone and that your friend is there to support you through thick and thin. Eddie's hug is so tight; he needs you to know that he would let nothing in the world hurt you. You close your eyes and breathe in deeply, grateful for your friend's unwavering support.
“Shhhhhh y/n, it’s okay. I have you.” He wraps the fluffy bath towel around your body, keeping you warm.
“Please Eddie”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. I won’t let this change anything between us, I swear.”
“Okay, sweetheart. Okay,” he didn’t know if this was a good idea, but he had to do something to make you feel better; he would do anything for you; he would get the moon for you if there was a way. So he will do this for you.
He surprises you by lifting you up bridal style and carrying you to the bedroom. He's much stronger than you thought as he gently placed you down on your fresh sheets.
“Tell me if you want to stop, okay?”
“I promise, Eddie.” You nod.
Slowly, Eddie leans down to kiss you gently. The mint toothpaste still lingers on your breath. His lips feel so soft; it’s nice to be kissed.it's nice to be kissed by Eddie.
You feel his lips detach from yours, moving across your cheek and lowering your neck. The water from his hair trickled into your skin, making you shiver.
Eddie wanted to know your body, what made you tick, what made you moan, what made you needy with desire. He focused on the side of your neck and was proud when he found a spot that made you whimper.
“That okay, sweetheart?”
“Mmhmmm”
He could feel your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. He could see he was getting you worked up the way you needed.
His timid fingers spread your legs wider so he could feel you and to Eddie’s surprise, you were still dry. He thought he would feel your slick as he slowly rubbed your pussy, but it wasn’t there.
“I uh- um. I don’t think you’re enjoying this.” he sits back, a bit defeated. This hasn’t happened to him before.
“It’s not you, Eddie; it’s me. I-I want to... You’re doing good; it’s just that sometimes girls need help if they’re like… this…”
“Oh,” Eddie understands, you're still in your head,” Eddie understands, you.
“I have lube and condoms in the nightstand”
Eddie reaches over you to grab it. The crack of the hard plastic lid is so loud in the silent room that you flinch a little.
“Sorry”
“It’s okay,” you whisper. Suddenly you’re very aware you’re naked in front of your best friend, but that is brushed to the side when you feel his slippery fingers make contact with your pussy once again.
“Ohhhh,” you breathe in.
Eddie smirks and leans in to kiss you once again. You feel his tongue slick its way past your lips; who knew he was such a good kisser.
Slowly, minute by minute, you’re actually feeling something—pleasure. Eddie brings you back to life with each touch, brush, and kiss.
“Eddie,” you moan as his fingers slip inside you.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“More,” you pant.
You don’t have to tell him twice. He will do anything to make you feel better, which seems to be working. He rips open the condom, and you surprise him by reaching up to cup his balls. He gasps, and a smirk spreads across your face for the first time in weeks.
“I knew there was a little freak you were hiding from me.” Eddie laughs, and he pulls one out of you as well. His heart swells when he hears the sound leave your lips.
“There’s my girl,” so much relief is behind his eyes.
“Hi, Eddie.” You look up at him like he’s given you all the stars in the sky.
“You still want to do this?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” he brushes your wet hair behind your ear and softly kisses you. It becomes needy quickly, and desperation takes over both of you.
It didn’t matter that you were only best friends, that you weren’t okay, that he was in just as much pain as you were. All that mattered was one another, two physical entities in your own little world. Your mind was completely erased; for a moment, you finally forgot everything weighing down on you.
Eddie continues to kiss you as he guides himself in slowly. You can’t help but take a deep breath as he pushes his way in.
As Eddie entered you, you melted into his touch. Nothing could have made you feel this good. He was consuming every inch of your being. With every brush, every thrust, every nip, kiss and bite, you were coming alive again.
Eddie’s hands travel all along your body, squeezing your breasts, tweaking your nipples, making you twitch and grind up into Eddie’s touch. Your hips are ungulate with his, and your moments become one as you and Eddie perform the perfect dance.
The past picks up faster and faster. Eddie brushes the spot inside you every single time, and you’re crying out his name.
Eddie can’t believe he’s making you feel this good, this wanted. His beautiful best friend was here helping you, holding you, and doing this for you.
“Eddie, please”
“Let go, baby”
The pet name accidentally slipped past his lips and didn’t go unnoticed. It only aided your orgasm to come that much quicker.
A wave of pleasure crashed over you as it washed through your whole body without warning.
Eddie watched as he was the one who made your body quiver, to make your eyes roll back, to have you silently screaming for him. He couldn’t hold on anymore, either. Your cunt clamped down so tightly on his cock he shook as he spilled into the condom.
His sweaty body collapses on you, and the only thing you can hear is your erratic breaths.
“Thank you, Eddie,” you sniffle, and Eddie quickly pops his head up because you’re crying once again.
“Baby, please don’t cry. I can’t take it anymore.” he holds your face, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.
“No, it's- it's happy tears; you helped me feel something. I thought I was broken. Thank you, Teddie.”
“I’ll always be here for you; I love you, sweetheart."
You didn’t care if he only meant platonically or romantically; he was your person forever and always.
“I love you too.”
Tagging some mooties!: @nailbatanddungeon @taintedcigs @hellfirenacht @littlexdeaths @andvys @rebelfell @xxbimbobunnyxx @rowanswriting @voyeurmunson @asimpforthe80s @mmunson86 @slutty-thevampireslayer @strangerstilinski
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dyaz-stories · 2 days
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say my name and everything just stops || gojo satoru x reader
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synopsis: You welcome Gojo back after a mission that lasted longer than expected.
(He fucks you on your desk)
word count: 2.6k
genre: canon compliant, smut
cw: porn with some plot, porn with feelings, vaginal sex, fingering, gojo is a tease, light angst, some fluff too, reader is afab, implied fwb, gojo calls reader sensei but they're both teachers
a/n: just a little thing for fun and practice :) enjoy!
more gojo x reader here
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Though the sun is setting outside, you’re still at your desk, dutifully filing paperwork. You’ve dismissed the students a long time ago, of course, but you haven’t left the classroom yet. The door sliding open, though you haven’t heard any footsteps, has you glancing up, on high alert. The worry dissipates right away when you’re met with familiar white hair, a broad grin, and all-black clothing.
“Well, well, sensei,” Gojo Satoru says as he approaches your desk with a nonchalant pace, hands in his pockets, “working late, are we?”
“Gojo,” you reply, eyes back on the paper sheet in front of you. “How was your trip?”
“You know you can just ask Ijichi to do that for you, right?” Gojo continues, now standing in front of your desk. “No need for you to do all that by yourself.”
“Ijichi is busy,” you answer, unperturbed by the way he ignored your question. “You’ve been gone a whole week. Did something go wrong?”
“Aw, sensei,” he coos, “were you worried?”
You put down your pen to look up at him. You’re always worried, obviously. While you’re a teacher at Jujutsu High, the main role you’re expected to fulfill is that of strategist, to better coordinate group actions. You wouldn’t be able to do that without being at least a little paranoid.
It just so happens that you are very paranoid.
Faced with your stare, Gojo’s grin widens.
“Well, I guess they were happy to have me around and they had me fix all the little problems they hadn’t been able to get rid of by themselves,” he tells you with a shrug. “If I didn’t do it, no one was going to, so, might as well get everything taken care of in one go.”
It’s hard not to openly grit your teeth at his words. You’re not thrilled about the way Gojo just gets used and shipped off to wherever the elders deem fit. You and Shoko, on the other hand, are expected to remain caged in the more ‘safe’ properties, all in the name of the greater good. You’re not sure what good it’s doing. You still know better than to say it out loud.
“You stopped by Shoko’s before coming here,” you say. It’s not a question, and his face lights up at it.
“One day, you’re really going to have to tell me how you do that.”
It’s not that hard. A light smell of smoke lingers around him; the last button of his shirt is unbuttoned, likely because of an examination; there’s a pen sticking out of his pocket that you suspect he’s stolen off her desk; and he’s not wearing his usual travel shoes, meaning he changed since coming back to Tokyo, and knowing him, you must have been close to the top of his list of people to see, so you don’t think he went home, so Ichiji must have brought them to him at the lab.
You could easily have been wrong, of course. You just made an educated guess, and it worked out well for you.
“I found something weird out there,” he states matter-of-factly. “Didn’t need any patching up. C’mon, don’t tell me you were worried?”
You roll your eyes and push your chair back to stand up. He should have been back three days ago, and you didn’t hear from him. Not that the way your relationship works means you should have. It explicitly doesn’t.
“We don’t know what kind of curses are out there,” you say. “Anything could happen.”
“Aw,” Gojo says. “But you know I’m the strongest. I can take everything they throw at me.”
He says it with such absolute confidence that you want to believe him blindly, but all your instincts rebel at that idea. You can’t let yourself think he’s invincible. You can’t make your plans based on that idea. There’d be too much to lose if— if—
“With how gloomy you look, it’s hard to think you’re happy to see me,” Gojo pouts. “And here I was, thinking I’d get a warm welcome back…”
You scoff, fighting the smile that wants to break on your face, then make to move past him. You have no intention of actually leaving of course, but you know that—
Of course, the second he thinks you’re getting away from him, he grabs your wrist and twirls you around and into him. His arm wraps around your waist smoothly, presses your chest against his.
“Really? You’re not even a little bit happy?” He says it lightly, but you don’t miss the very light twinge of annoyance in his voice.
You like to think that you are one of the few people that can get a rise out of him.
It goes both way, of course, but now that you’re in his arms, after a week without touching him, anger and fear melt away all too easily, and all you want is him.
You put both of your arms around his neck, and push yourself on your tiptoes to capture his lips. There is a second during which he remains still, as if unsure, no matter how unlike him that would be. It’s like you don’t have him back yet, like there’s a part of him, of his mind, that is still out there with the curses.
But the moment passes, and then he’s kissing you feverishly. He pushes you back until you hit your desk, then helps lift you on top of it. The papers you’ve filled so dutifully fall to the floor, but he doesn’t care and neither do you. His warm tongue meets yours and you feel small moans escaping you, which he swallows hungrily. One of his hands sneaks under your shirt, the other pushes up your long skirt as he lifts up one of your legs, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh.
You burry your hand in his hair, try to pull him closer to you, because fuck, you’ve missed him, you’ve missed the weight of his body on yours, and you want him, you need him to be as close as possible. He groans inside your mouth, and when your other hand moves down to trace his jaw, his neck, the muscles of his shoulders, before trying to unbutton his shirt, it turns into a full whimper.
Unfortunately, that sound also brings you back to reality, and while your body is an inferno right now, you feel your cheeks heating up even more.
“Wait, wait, Gojo—”
“Satoru,” he almost growls. Now that you’re trying to speak, he presses open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking and biting lightly at the skin.
“Satoru,” you whine, left with no strength nor desire to fight him on that, “we shouldn’t— students could—”
“They’ve gone home,” he dismisses your worries easily. “None of them are going to show up here at this time.”
He’s hooking his fingers in your panties now, trying to slide them down your legs, but you catch his arm first. You’re quite the spectacle, breathless and panting, clothes half off. Even then, there’s that serious light in your eyes that just has him weak in the knees.
“Yaga— Yaga could—”
“If you think about it, that’d be doing him a favor,” Satoru hums. “Would give him some really, really good material, if you ask me.”
He doesn’t add that the material in question is all his, and that he’d never let Yaga catch you in the act, just for that reason. He doesn’t have to, because his answer makes you laugh softly.
You always laugh for him.
“He better not find us,” you warn him, as your grasp on his arm relaxes.
“Hm, that shouldn’t be a problem, as long as a certain someone can keep quiet…”
You roll your eyes, and then you pull him back down against your lips to interrupt his laugh.
He manages to get your panties out of the way, and then pushes a long finger inside you. You’re already so wet for him, he marvels as it slides in easily. He soon follows it with a second one, spreading you open carefully, and that’s when you throw your head back, closing your eyes and pushing your hand against your mouth to muffle your moan.
“So you’ve really missed me, huh?” he can’t help but tease as he chases your mouth. He’d love nothing more than to hear you loud and clear, but he knows you won’t risk it, no matter how empty the school is right now.
Underneath him, your body trembles, and he can’t resist any longer. He pulls his blindfold out of the way, drinking in the most beautiful sight he’s ever beholden. You’re trying your best not to let the pleasure get to you, but even then, you manage to open an eye to look at him, and you’re met with the stunning blue eyes you wish you could see more often. Something softens inside you, and you reach up to touch his cheek.
“Of course I’ve missed you,” you answer.
Shit. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. He’s already rock hard and all he’s done is rock against you. He wanted to take his time with you tonight, because all he’s had the past week is the memory of you, and that’s nowhere near enough, but it’s not looking like he will last that long.
“Yeah?” he insists as his thumb finds your clit and he starts rubbing carefully. “Thought about me while I was gone?”
You let out a loud cry, manage to cover your mouth again before another one comes out. Your thighs are trembling around him, and fuck, he’s going to have to fuck you real soon, otherwise he’s just going to burst in his pants without you even touching him, at this point.
“I’ve thought of you,” he tells you as he pulls his fingers out of you to get rid of his pants. “Thought of how good you feel around me, of how good you sound for me, of how pretty you are when you’re bouncing on my cock…”
He guides his cock against your entrance, presses it against you. You buck your hips, unable to stop yourself, but he doesn’t give it to you, not just yet.
“You really want it that bad, don’t you?” he practically purrs.
“Satoru,” you whine, and oh, if you knew what it does to him when you say his name like that… “don’t make me b— Ah!”
Finally satisfied, he sheathes himself fully inside of you, and fuck, it’s all he’s been dreaming of for days now. Next time he swears he’ll come running back to you the second he’s done with the stupid assignment. You reach up for him and he lets you, lets you dig your nails into his shoulder blades as you bury your face in his neck to stifle your moans. His hips set up a lazy pace at first, and you try your best to follow, try to meet him with small movements of your own, before you feel his breath against your ear.
“It’s all good,” he says warmly. “Just let me take care of you, babe. I’ve got you.”
That’s when he picks up the pace, and you’re left to writhe underneath him, whimpering his name desperately against his skin like a prayer, Satoru, Satoru, Satoru!
You come, shaking, around him when he brings his fingers to your clit once more, and he doesn’t lose a second of it. The high-pitched moan that you just can’t hold in, the way your head falls back, how your thighs shake on either side of him, it’s all so perfect. You’re perfect.
He does his best to let you ride your orgasm on his cock, but he comes inside you just a couple seconds later, unable to last longer. He collapses on top of you, and your labored breathing fills the room. Your hand on his back moves gently, tracing circles on the nape of his neck, gently running through his hair.
“If you’re not down for a round two just yet, I recommend you stop that,” he mumbles against you, only to regret it immediately, because you do stop.
“We should— we should take this elsewhere,” you say quietly.
Ah, now that’s more like it.
“I can call Ichiji and we could do that in the back of the car on the way home,” he offers cheerfully as he gets up, putting the blindfold back in place, though not before he can see you grimace in horror at his suggestion.
“Absolutely not,” you say firmly, though once more, he was only teasing. He’d never let Ichiji see you like that. “Although, if you could call someone to come clean up in here, just, uh, just in case…”
Cute.
“Done. Now, about that round two…”
“Else. Where,” you insist, and you don’t fall for his cute pout.
He sighs but takes your hand to help you to your feet, then turns around as he pulls out his phone. He’s about to hit Ichiji’s number when your fingers on his skin almost bring a shiver out of him.
“Shouldn’t this be healing?” you ask, frowning, and he realizes you’re talking about the marks you’ve left on his back.
“Nah, I quite like them, actually,” he grins back. “Don’t you?”
There’s a lot of unsaid things that hang between the two of you. A lot of things that are better left unsaid. Sadly, you’re too smart for your own good, and you know better. You leave them be.
“I was worried for you,” is what do you say.
Satoru’s expression shifts. The grin vanishes, and you can’t see his eyes, so you’re not sure how he’s feeling, not until the corner of his lips lift up in a soft smile.
“Thank you,” he says, voice uncharacteristically low.
Then he turns away from you, and he’s as loud and boisterous as ever when Ichiji answers.
Of course. The strongest can’t let himself grow soft.
You bend down to pick up your papers, rearrange them neatly on the desk, eyes still on him, on the animated way he moves around the room.
You think you’re more grateful than he knows, for him being back here. Not because he’s the strongest, not because no one gets rid of a curse like he can, but because he’s Satoru. It’s probably better that way, though. You’re both too busy for distractions.
With a sigh, you put your papers back on the desk, then start moving towards the exit.
“Aren’t we going?” you ask Satoru right as you’re reaching the door.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows.
“Hope you wrote all that down, ‘cause I need to get out of here,” he says on the phone, and you hear Ichiji protest, but that doesn’t stop Satoru from hanging up unceremoniously. He follows you in the hallway, shoulders brushing against yours without quite touching.
“Hey, if not in the car, there’s a supply closet on the first floor—”
“No.”
“Yaga’s office is probably—”
“Absolutely not.”
“How about in my bed?” he asks, right against your ear, breath tickling against your skin. Your cheeks heat up.
“…Sure.”
He only savors his victory for a second.
“What about the couch?”
“Don’t push it.”
But he does, and you let him.
How could you not, when you finally have him back?
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still trying to get used to writing gojo's character, don't know if i quite have him just yet. i hope you enjoyed this, any feedback you have is welcomed and encouraged! reblogs and comments are what keeps me writing, so please engage with my work to let me know if you'd like to see more~
if you enjoy my writing, you can find more gojo x reader here
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sugrhigh · 1 day
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BOY NEXT DOOR 7 - ( c.s )
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part six
summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.
warnings- cursing, smut (oral m!receiving)
a/n: part 7 bay beeeee let’s get it, they’re falling yall 😳
@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @55sturn @l9vesick @mattinside @sturnioloco @rootbeerworshiper @stonermattsgf @dazednmatthews @chrisactualwife @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18
the following week and a half are a complete haze. between classes and schoolwork and hanging out with chris, it’s been a whirlwind of both pleasure and stress, but you’re not complaining about it.
it’s the most fun you’ve had with a guy in a minute, the most fun you’ve had with anyone in a minute period.
you catch yourself smiling at your phone in class when he texts you silly things throughout the day, or when he gives you a quick call to tell you something crazy. he’s always insisting that you spend the night at his, just so he can wake up with his chin nuzzled into neck and his arm wrapped around your waist.
after practices he’ll pick you up to go get food, or bring something back for you if he stops on the way home instead. you’ve also been to a few of his games since making up, which depending on the result will usually end in some type of fun new sexual escapade.
he never forgets to kiss you hello and goodbye, is constantly giving you his clothes to wear because they “look better” on you, and he even throws his arm around your shoulder in public without shame.
he’s doing the little things, and you have to admit that you really like it.
ramona and cass have caught on at this point, always shooting you sly grins when you say you’re heading out, or that you have plans. you never even mentioned chris by name in the beginning, but they knew.
and despite prior flukes, they both support you whole-heartedly and are always gushing about how different he’s acting. you try not to read into their theories too much, but sometimes you can’t help but wonder.
why would he be putting in effort on all of these extra gestures if he didn’t truly want something more?
he’s already got the sex, so what else does he need?
but one thing you still haven’t fully learned about chris is that he’s selfish. he needs and wants everything, in almost all aspects of his life aside from his romantic interests. that is, until he met you.
and now that he has you, finally, he wants it all. whenever you’re not with him, he’s thinking about you. sometimes it’s the dirtiest fantasies that he’s just waiting to fulfill, and other times it’s wondering what you had for lunch, or what you dreamed about, or what you’re up to with your friends.
when you are with him, he can’t get enough; your smell, the way your hair feels against his palm, the softness of your lips all over him. he adores when he makes you laugh, when you toss one leg around him before the two of you go to sleep, when you’re standing in the crowd supporting him in his jersey.
he even likes when you scrunch your nose in disgust at him after he hits you with yet another cheesy pickup line.
chris has no idea how to handle the intensity of his feelings, or how to identify them. unbeknownst to him, you’re feeling the exact same.
but everything is still normal as you two lounge on his bed, both enjoying the wind down after a long day. the sun is well below the horizon now and you’ve been watching hockey for the past two hours—shocker. but you can feel chris growing restless beside you, hand stroking your thigh lazily.
“alright, what’s your deal?” you ask after he huffs for the fifth time, even though you know he’s just bored.
he pauses to think about it for a moment, rolling his lips between his teeth. then his eyes go wide and a grin takes over his face as you watch an idea form in his mind.
“wanna play super smash brothers?” chris asks, and you feel your own expression light up at the suggestion.
“oh my god, seriously? i didn’t even know that game was still around.” you gush in excitement.
“lucky for you, i’ve got it on my switch.” he wiggles his eyebrows a few times before he leans over to grab the device off of his nightstand.
you stay silent while he props the screen up on top of the covers, sitting up straighter like he’s preparing for war as he hands you a controller.
though the console is a completely foreign thing to you, you used to be decent when you played on the wii several years ago. you have a feeling the skill will translate.
“are you sure you’re ready? i’m a known pro.” he warns you with a smirk as the game loads.
you shrug, deciding not to boast about your own ability just yet. better to leave it a mystery, just in case you do actually suck.
“your threats are unimpressive.”
“i’d hold the sass, princess. we haven’t even started yet. plus,” he drags the word out for effect as he stares at you with a devious look in his eye, “i have a dare for you.”
a snort escapes before you can help it. “so we’re back in middle school now?”
“c’mon, humor me.”
“alright, let me hear it.” you give in, because you are wondering what he has in store.
“every time i beat you, you have to take off a piece of clothing. and every time i lose, if i ever actually lose, i’ll do the same.” chris explains.
it’s an enticing offer. you pretend to contemplate the challenge, tapping on your chin lightly with your pointer finger as you furrow your brows.
“okay, i’ll take the bait.” you finally say.
you don’t plan on being defeated anyways. he’s underestimating you yet again, and you can also tell that he’s surprised by your answer.
but regardless, he gives you a nod of approval. “very daring, i’m impressed.”
“you'll be even more impressed when i kick your ass.” you tease with a smile, leaning in to give him a quick kiss before you refocus on the task at hand.
“sure i will, now pick your character already.” he prompts, pointing a finger at the screen.
you already know who you’re going to play as, because you used to choose the same fighter pretty much every time. so you use your controls to scroll and select quickly.
“so you’re a kirby girl.” chris notes with a grin, like it makes perfect sense.
“force of habit, i guess.” you respond as you glance down at the switch.
he just shakes his head, clicking on the default stage so that he can get the game ready to go. “that big pink fuck won’t save you now.”
“hey! don’t you dare talk about him like that, he can hear you.” you motion to the screen in offense.
this makes him chuckle, a delightful sound that you’ve come to know and love.
“yeah, yeah, whatever. are you ready?”
you square your shoulders. “prepare to die, chris sturniolo.”
the game begins a moment later, and neither of you are relaxed in his bed anymore. you’re both quite literally on the edge of your seats, fingers frantically jamming at the controllers.
you’re the first to hit him, watching his XP fade just a little bit as a result. he grunts beside you while he continues throwing aimless attacks your way, eyes narrowed in determination.
he’s next to land a big one, which knocks kirby on his ass for a solid few seconds as chris pummels your character. you’re at nearly half of your health before you escape his grasp, so you grit your teeth and keep battling.
but it’s no use. even though you knock him off of the little island, he delivers the final blow a moment later and pikachu wins the first round.
“shit!” you yell as you watch your own fighter die.
chris throws his arms up in victory, already beaming over the fact that you’ll have to be the first to start stripping. you stare at the screen incredulously before you hang your head in shame.
“i think you owe me something, baby.” he chirps happily.
your mind races, trying to find some loophole to save your dignity. then the sides of your mouth turn up just a bit. you reach down to peel your socks off and toss them to the floor, fully smirking now.
chris shakes a finger at you accusingly, though he’s smiling regardless. “that does not count, you little cheater.”
“it totally does. socks are essential to daily life.” you argue.
he licks his lips as he grips his controller once more. “fine, but you don’t have an excuse after this, and puppy eyes won’t get you out of it.”
“sure they won’t.” you reply innocently, giving him a knowing look.
the next round starts up and this time you come out swinging, sending quite a few damaging hits his way. you’re satisfied with the head start, avoiding him by jumping around on the obstacles in the arena.
every time he’s about to strike, you feel him tense up beside you, so you decide to use it to your advantage. you back up as he advances, once again steering clear of any harm.
then you switch up and go on offense again, sending pikachu up into the air with the last strike of the match.
chris groans in disappointment as you let out a brief cheer, nudging him with your shoulder suggestively.
“i think you owe me something, pretty boy.” you mock him, unable to hide how pleased you are.
he just rolls his eyes in response, reaching to grab the collar of his shirt so he can pull it over his head. you honestly weren’t fully prepared yet, and your mouth goes dry as you watch his muscles clench while he shifts to chuck it to the ground.
you can see some of the hickies you gave him scattered across his collarbones, and although you’re a little embarrassed, it’s also a bit of a turn on.
“distracted?” chris taunts.
you narrow your eyes and turn back to the switch. “never.”
the third round commences and you’re feeling far more confident now. he may have a big ego, but he’s not as good as he made himself out to be, so you’ve at least got a chance.
it’s dead even for a moment while you each go punch for punch, bringing your health down quite a bit. you’re completely zoned in until you feel his hand grip your thigh, inching higher and higher rather quickly.
it makes your stomach flip, and you’re forced to look over at him in surprise. in that moment, you know you lost, because chris removes his fingers just as quickly as they were there and goes for the final kill.
he meets your eyes after he’s secured the second win, pure amusement evident in his expression.
“who’s the cheater now, huh?” you shove him lightly, but he just laughs.
“hey, you never said touching was off limits. i was just using my resources.” chris says, clearly deciding to maintain his innocence.
“that’s total horseshit and you know it. you’re lucky i’m a good sport.”
so you tug your own sweatshirt up, throwing it toward the foot of the bed without a second thought. you’re left in your lacey red bra, though it’s nothing he hasn’t seen before anyways.
but when you glance over, there’s a hungry glint in chris’s eyes that lets you know he's just as excited as the first time. his gaze flicks down to your chest, tilting his head forward a bit so his face is closer to yours.
“jesus, that bra is fucking sexy.” his words sound more like a whine than anything else.
you can feel yourself beginning to shake ever so slightly in anticipation, trying to steady your hands by holding your controller.
“don’t say shit like that to me.” oh, but it sounds so delicious.
“i’m sorry.” chris lies breathlessly.
his lips ghost over your cheek, his teeth clamping down on that sweet spot behind your ear a moment later. you let out a small gasp, placing your hands on his warm chest to push him away.
“we’re supposed to be playing.” you remind him quietly.
everything in your body is screaming for him to pin you to the bed, to let him have his way with you, but you won’t let yourself get carried away that easily. not this time.
“damnit, i’m not going to be able to win with you looking like that right beside me.” chris complains.
“sounds like a you problem.” you brush him off and click the button to start the next round.
you can feel your hands sweating as you move kirby around the stage. you know exactly what you’re doing now, walking right into his attacks as if you’re practically begging to die.
the attention chris gave you after you lost last time was intense, and you can only imagine how it’ll go once you take off your pants too.
so, you let yourself lose. pikachu defeats kirby swiftly, and now it’s time to face the consequences.
“you suck at this.” he grins widely after your third loss, clearly content.
but you don’t say anything. you just lay back, lifting your hips up so you can wiggle your sweats down your legs. you kick them off at the foot of the mattress, enjoying the way chris’s eyes go wide as he watches you.
“you’re evil, you know?” his voice is dangerously low as you sit back up, confidence flooding through your veins.
you nod, biting down on your lip to keep yourself from smiling like a cheshire cat. “what are you gonna do about it?”
he opens his mouth like he’s going to tell you, and then changes his mind.
“nothing.”
not the answer you were expecting. you furrow your brows, completely thrown for a loop, when you get your own brilliant idea. an idea he won’t be able to resist, literally and figuratively.
“fine, then i have a game for you.” you say, trying to provoke him.
“i’m listening.” he sounds intrigued.
“let’s see how long you can go without touching me, because i bet you won’t last more than a minute. but i can do whatever i want.” your voice gets sultry at the end as you glance down at his mouth.
chris feels all of the blood rush to his dick just thinking about the dare, already turned on from seeing you in your tiny matching set. he knows he won’t be able to contain himself, but he doesn’t care.
“filthy girl.” he purrs, nodding his head yes.
you watch him situate himself against the pillows, laying so you can roll to your knees and straddle him. his eyes roam your body, lips tilted into a lopsided smile as he relishes the feeling of your silky skin on his.
your hands go to his bare shoulders, steadying yourself as you lean down to give him a brief kiss. you move to his jaw before he can get to into it, taking your time as you finally reach his neck. he spreads his hands out on the comforter, gripping it harshly to prevent himself from giving in.
your hips rock against him agonizingly slow, and you can feel his hard on as you grind your cunt into it. fingers trail down his stomach, raking at the skin lightly.
he’s choking on his breath underneath you, trying so hard not to buck into your movements even though he wants to so bad. you’re careful, leaving open-mouth kisses in new areas in the hopes of giving him more hickies.
chris’s eyes flutter closed, lips parted in bliss as a small whine escapes, and you can tell he’s just itching to truly feel you.
you move your face up so you’re right by his ear, whispering your next words without hesitation.
“come on baby, touch me. i know you want to.”
it’s your first time using the pet name with him, and you can tell by the groan he lets out that it’s enough to send him over the edge.
his hands reach to grip your ass, rocking you against him harder as he gives one side a little slap. chris tilts his head so he can capture your mouth with his for a real kiss, tongue and teeth meshing together beautifully.
when you pull away his lips are glossy and red, which you always love seeing. you shift yourself off of him so your hands can move toward his sweats, fingers dipping below the waistband just slightly as you look up at him for permission.
chris nods eagerly, biting down on his lip and squirming around for any kind of contact. you steady his hips with your hands, clicking your tongue once in distaste.
“you better be patient, or i won’t do a damn thing.” you chide.
“i’ll be good. so good.” he promises, practically pleading with you now.
the neediness ignites a fire in your stomach, so you slowly begin to work his pants and boxers down his legs. his erection bounces free, slapping against his stomach, and you feel your mouth watering just looking at it.
once you’ve officially discarded his clothes, you position yourself between his legs so that you’re eye-level with his cock. he’s already throbbing at the sight, waiting as you spit in your palm and wrap it around the base of his shaft.
chris lets out a moan as you start to move your hand up and down ever so slowly, making sure to tease as much as possible because you know how sensitive he is right now. your run your thumb over his slit, which is leaking with precum, and he trembles in your grasp.
after a moment like this, you finally bring your head down, wrapping your lips around him and swirling your tongue across his tip.
“fuckkk.” he hisses through his teeth, reaching to wrap a hand in your hair messily.
you take as much of him into your mouth as you can, using your hand on the part you can’t reach as you hollow your cheeks and bob your head slightly. your other palm rests on his thigh, steadying yourself as you suck his dick.
“feels amazing.” he praises through a whimper, involuntarily bucking into your throat now.
you can feel him pulling you by the hair, forcing you to take more of him as tears brim your eyes. you know he’s getting close just based on the way he’s beginning to shake, so you pick up your pace a bit.
“shit, baby, just like that.” chris groans, his body shuddering as you work your tongue.
he’s breathing heavy now, head thrown back with his eyes screwed shut, hair messy across his forehead. his grip on you tightens, a dead giveaway that he’s about to come.
“fuck, fuck, i’m—”
you feel him twitch in your mouth, body completely tense as his orgasm spills down your throat. his hand untangles from your hair so you can pull away to swallow, brushing stray strands from your face.
his chest rises and falls heavily as he lays there, riding out the high before he peels his eyes open to look at you through the bleariness.
“you’re incredible.” chris says as he reaches for your hand, pulling you down into bed beside him.
he presses a kiss to your forehead, a gentle touch that you’re not used to, and you feel your stupid little heart melt.
“and you’re getting soft on me, mister tough guy.” you joke, poking his side like you're making a point.
“for you, i think i can live with that.”
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watchmegetobsessed · 3 days
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OLD GRUDGES (part 3)
A/N: i know it took me way longer than it should have, but at last im here with the next part and that's what matters, right? thank you for the support on the prev parts, hope you'll enjoy this just as much!
WORD COUNT: 4.3k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Meetings never really excited Harry, but lately, they have been his favorite along with studio sessions. Because these were the times he always got to see Y/N. 
Today he is going in with her favorite cookies in his bag that he picked up on his way, taking a detour just to drop by that one place she loves the most. It’s been a recurring thing for Harry, picking up a cup of coffee for her, buying her favorite snacks for their sessions or surprising her with lunch from that taco place she adores so much. He’s been doing practically anything to get a smile on her face because he feels like that’s the only thing he is destined to do. 
He’s been ignoring the fact that her time working on the project ends in two weeks, according to the contract. The only chance to stretch it longer if the required songs are not finished, but they are all practically done at this point. Harry tries his best not to think of what it will be like when he doesn’t get to see her as often as he does now. 
The meeting was scheduled only yesterday, so Harry has no idea what it is about, but it doesn’t really matter, they are supposed to record afterwards, so he only cares about spending more time with Y/N. 
However, the smile fades when he walks into the room and doesn’t see her. It’s odd, she is usually there before him, but now it’s just a couple of the studio engineers, Niall, Liam and Blake, the kind of weird manager from Modest who’s been working with them since they started recording for Midnight Memories. Harry has been getting these eerie vibes from him, but he just can’t put his finger on it, so he’s been sucking it up and ignoring it. He gave no reason not to be trusted so far. 
“Hey, what’s up?” Harry greets everyone walking into the room. 
“Ah, Harry! You’re here!” Blake smiles and they shake hands before Harry settles in a chair. “I was just telling the boys what this meeting is about. Good news, you are set for another album after Midnight Memories is released!”
It’s no surprise, to be honest. One album after the other, the pace has been just like that for a while. 
“Great,” he nods. “Do we know who we’re gonna work with?”
Blake then hands him a paper with a list of names and some other details. Harry runs over the names, looking for a particular one, but it’s not there.
“What about Y/N?” he asks.
“Ah, I wanted to tell you guys. She got another project kind of last minute, so she is done with the album for now and won’t be able to join for the next one, it seems like,” Blake explains casually and it doesn’t stand out to anyone else either, but it hits Harry in the chest pretty hard.
She is done with the album? Why didn’t she say anything? They talked on the phone just two days ago, why didn’t she even mention it?
And why isn’t she gonna work on the next album? Harry doubts she is booked that far ahead, she is just getting recognized in the industry and she told him herself she is living from one project to the other, works on the next album won’t start at least until they start touring Midnight Memories.
It’s not adding up, but on the other hand… Harry has no right to question her. Even despite how close he’s been getting to her, they are still just… coworkers. Friends. 
But nothing more. 
“Alright, now that we are talking about the next album, I have a little sneak peek of a song that could be a big hit!” Blake seems enthusiastic as he opens his laptop and then soon a demo starts playing, but Harry can’t really focus, he is too stuck on the fact that he has no more time left with Y/N. He even pulls out his phone, ready to text her and ask her how all of this happened, but then talks himself down. When he finally starts to listen to the song, it sounds familiar at first, but there are no lyrics and Harry often finds random songs familiar lately, because he just hears so many new melodies on a daily basis, they tend to blend together. 
“You like it?” Blake asks him and Harry just nods.
“Yeah. What is it called?”
Blake smiles confidently as he shuts the laptop down.
“Night Changes.”
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The weather is finally good enough for grilling and the rowland household would take an opportunity anytime for that. Filling up their backyard with the people they love the most and feeding them burgers, hotdogs or basically anything Mitch is able to throw onto the grill. They usually have a gathering like this every month if their schedule and the weather allows. 
Now it’s finally the first official grill party of the year. 
Harry is sat outside by one of the tables, his plate is empty by now, but he knows he’ll get another round at one point. Cards are scattered on the tabletop, along with glasses of lemonade and beer, the kids are playing in the back somewhere by the treehouse, everything feels and looks idyllic.
For the past about two hours Harry couldn’t stop looking for Y/N. Stealing glances when she was talking to Sarah or playing with the kids, trying not to ogle her too obviously when she was laughing at something at the other table. He wanted to walk up to her a thousand times already, but he is trying to act cool and figure out how to act when there are other people around. 
It’s an unknown territory for sure. 
When Harry sees her walking towards the house he just can’t stay put. Excusing himself from the group he tries his best not to look suspicious as he follows her inside. Once the sliding door is closed behind him he quickens his steps down the hallway towards the bathroom, guessing she went there, but as he is approaching the door he notices it’s closed.
Should he try his luck and open it? Or maybe knock? Or…
Suddenly, the lock rattles and the door moves the tiniest bit, light coming through the gap. His heart skips a beat as he leaps forward and pushes the door open more so he can step inside.
And there she is, standing by the sink, checking herself out in the mirror when Harry walks in and closes the door behind him. Then slowly, she turns her gaze to him, for the first time today and for a moment Harry thinks she might tell him to fuck off and get out, but when he sees her lips part, he knows what she wants.
Him.
They collide fast, their usual hunger for each other taking over in a heartbeat. Demanding kisses, rough touches, they both know they should be in a hurry, Harry can’t even remember if he locked the door, it would be rather awkward if someone walked in on them.
Especially because no one knows about them, or whatever is going on between them. 
It’s been over a week since the dinner party that ended up with the most confusing but also mind-blowingly amazing sex they have ever had. When it was over Harry simply left and kept to what she said, that they would not talk about it and that’s exactly what happened. They never talked about it, but it happened again. 
Twice since then. 
And now they are going at it again. 
“Fuck,” Harry growls into her mouth when she reaches into his pants with quick but confident moves, because it’s not the first time she is doing it and he can only hope it’s not the last either. 
“Quickly,” she pants and he just nods, bunching up her dress and tugging her underwear down. It’s no surprise he is already hard, following her inside was like a foreplay to him, the secrecy, the chance that she might tell him to fuck off, his pulse has been rising before he stepped into the bathroom. 
They moan together when he thrusts into her, but then he gets back to kissing her to keep their voice down as he starts moving. Usually, they don’t talk when they are having sex, but Harry feels like changing that up, trying out how she reacts to something different. 
“You knew I would come after you, huh?” he pants against her lips.
“I did,” she breathes out, one arm curled around his neck, her other hand gripping the edge of the sink to keep her balance. 
“You thought about me fucking you all day?”
To that, she doesn’t answer and Harry almost regrets opening his mouth, but then she looks at him and nods.
“I did,” she repeats herself and even cracks a smile before pulling him closer to kiss him hard. And just like that, a tightening but warm feeling spreads in his chest. 
They don’t need much time, Harry is the first to come and she follows soon right after. Her head falls against his chest , rising and falling with his deep breaths and he tries to fight the urge, but then gives in and bringing up a hand he runs his fingers through her hair. Part of him fears this move might be too intimate for her and that she’ll shake him off of her any moment, but it never happens and Harry enjoys it, probably way more than he should. 
They clean themselves up and soon it’s just the sparkle in their eyes that proves what they just did. 
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, fixing her makeup in the mirror. 
“Are you asking me out or something?” Harry cheekily asks and she just smacks his chest playfully.
“I have some stuff I’ve been working on that I want to show you.”
Harry’s pulse fastens again. This is just like it was before, when it was just the two of them, sharing the songs they were working on. 
“I would love that,” he smiles at her, watching her walk to the door. 
“Alright. I’ll text you then.”
Y/N walks out and Harry knows they are back to not talking and for a second he wonders how long he’ll be able to keep going like this. 
When he walks out he is still deep in his thoughts, but then when he reaches the kitchen he comes to a halt, seeing Mitch by the kitchen island, sipping on some lemonade, a knowing look on his face.
“Hey man,” Harry clears his throat and joins him instead of walking outside.
“Hey. Everything alright?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Want to share why I just saw Y/N coming from the same direction as you just did?”
“Uh… you know, we just…”
Harry can’t quite find the right words, especially because he doesn’t like and can’t really lie to Mitch, but he also wants to keep the no talking rule. Mitch stares back at him with a blank face for a second, but then his eyes go wide.
“No way.”
“What?” Harry laughs.
“For real?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You and… you and Y/N?”
Harry doesn’t answer, but that’s quite the answer to Mitch.
“Oh my God, how long has this been going on?”
“Keep it down!” He hushes his friend. “It’s… it’s nothing official or anything.”
“But it is something, right? What is it?”
Harry once again just stays silent.
“You two are having sex?” More silence. “Oh my God! Did you just do it in the bathroom?!”
“Shh!” Harry tries to shush him again, but he also can’t hold back his smile, thinking about what just took place in that bathroom. 
“Harry, what the hell! When… How did that happen? You know what? I don’t want to know about that,” Mitch changes his mind quickly, making Harry laugh. “But like… what is it?”
“I told you, it’s nothing o–”
“No, I mean… what do you want it to be?”
Harry sighs as he turns so he can look out at the backyard through the sliding door. And there she is, with a glass in her hand as she is talking to Sarah, laughing at something and Harry wishes he knew what it was. 
“I just… I like her. A lot.”
“But you two had been hating each other passionately, what happened to that?”
“I think we took the passionately part and turned it into something else,” Harry smirks cheekily, his eyes still glued to her figure outside. 
“Oh my God, you are so gone for her,” Mitch breathes out, shaking his head. “You’re falling for her!”
Harry turns back to Mitch and hesitates before speaking up.
“I already fell for her. When we worked together years ago. But then she basically disappeared and when we met again, she acted like I was her mortal enemy,” Harry chuckles. Calling himself the enemy sounds ridiculous, but it’s the most fitting he could say. “And now…” he hums, but doesn’t finish his thought out loud.
“And now you’re falling for her again?”
“I might be,” he nods.
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The Sun has set, but the party's still going. Well, it’s not raging, some of the people who came with kids have left and Scout has been put down by Mitch as well, but a handful of guests are still out on the terrace, playing card games and sharing stories. 
Y/N sits right across from Harry and he has noticed the change. She is losing her cold act towards him, slowly but surely. They can finally talk and joke around almost like back in the days. Harry however doesn’t want to let himself go deeper than he should, he knows he is on an unstable field with her and he feels like it all could snap any moment, but…
It feels so amazing.
Making her laugh, sharing knowing looks, teasing each other like old friends, Harry missed being like this. 
When he notices that she’s probably cold his first thought is to offer his hoodie, but he is quick to stop himself, he’s sure it might be too much at once so he instead just asks around who needs a blanket as he is heading inside anyway so he can easily grab a few. 
But then as the night comes to an end, he still decides to try and dance around the unsaid boundaries.
“Hey, I just ordered a car, added your address as well.” Harry tells her when he sees her open the Uber app on her phone.
“Ah, no need, I can just–”
“Already ordered it,” he insists, hoping she’ll accept it and luckily, it seems like she is not in the mood to argue. 
The car ride is quiet, but not the uncomfortable kind. She is on her phone, reading what seems like emails to Harry and he notices the change in her instantly.
“Everything alright?”
She looks up with a frown and then sighs, locking her phone. 
“Just work. I have this annoying assistant, called Daryl up in my ass on another project, he is trying to get me to give way more than I’m obligated to. I don’t even know who his boss is, the damn guy is like a mystery for some reason.”
“Like, they want more music from you?”
“Yes,” she nods. “They want to listen to stuff I’m working on in case something fits the album, but I’ve already delivered what I was paid for.”
Although he is eager to know more, to offer his help, he stays silent, staying within the boundaries this time, not pushing his luck even more. It’s a miracle itself that she even said this much about anything personal. 
“So tomorrow?” Y/N asks when the car stops in front of her house. Harry looks at her and for a moment, all he can think about is the last time they were here like this. 
“Yeah, I’m free,” he manages to speak up, snapping out of his memories.
“I’ll text you. Bye then,” she nods before climbing out of the car and heading towards her front door. Harry watches her for a bit before he tells the driver to leave. 
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She still hasn’t texted him. It’s four in the afternoon and he hasn’t heard of her since she got dropped off last night. 
He was up early, went for a run, because he definitely needed to put his extra energy into something instead of continuously checking his phone, hoping for a text to pop up. Then he grabbed himself a bagel on the way back, brewed a coffee when he got home and had his breakfast while staring at his phone like a sore loser. 
He took that damn phone everywhere he went. Literally everywhere. But the hours passed by and he got no sign and at first he just thought she got busy with something, but by the time he was done with lunch, it turned into a worry. 
She was as punctual as one could get and she would have already texted him by now, even if it was just about that she is running late with whatever she was doing. A decent session lasts at least three or four hours and she is not one to pull an allnighter.
He has kept ordering himself to be patient all day, but now he lost the last bits of his bearing. At last he decides a text is fine, she can answer whenever it’s convenient. 
HARRY: Hey, are we still up for a sesh? 
He keeps the conversation open and watches his message sit there, its status staying delivered for what feels like forever. Then, about twenty minutes later, it changes to read and the three dots start dancing at the bottom of the screen as Harry’s heart threatens to jump right out of his chest. He knows he is acting ridiculously, but he pushes the thought to the back of his head for now. 
The dots then disappear, but no message arrives. A minute goes by and they reappear and this time a gray bubble follows.
Y/N: I got a bit of a situation on my hands rn.
Then a photo pops up of her house with two police cars parked at the front and Harry’s stomach drops.
HARRY: I’m going over.
He sends the message before he could even think it through and he is already out the door by the time she reads his reply. 
When he arrives one of the police cars is still there and Y/N is out front, talking to an officer. She is lacking her usual on-spot style, wearing a baggy sweat set, her hair in a state of mess he has never seen before, but even despite the worried expression on her face, she looks annoyingly beautiful. 
She spots him as he gets out of his car, crossing the lawn with a slow jog.
“Hey, what’s going on?” he asks, on the verge of losing his marbles if he doesn’t find out what happened immediately.
“Give me a minute,” she tells him, turning back to the officer. “Thank you for everything. I’ll let you know if I find anything that’s missing.”
“Take care, Miss. We’ll have a car patrol around the neighborhood every hour for the next 24 hours, though it’s unlikely they will come back.”
With a nod, the officer walks over to the car, gets in and they drive away.
“What the hell happened?” Harry asks when Y/N finally turns to him.
“Someone broke into my house,” she says and then just simply heads back inside. Harry jogs after her. 
“What? When?” 
Y/N is walking straight to her kitchen and Harry follows her, locking the front door behind him. 
“I went to a yoga class in the morning. When I came back, I noticed my lock was picked and the door was open.” 
Harry watches her rummage through a cabinet before grabbing a bottle of tequila along with two glasses. She shoots a questioning look to him, to which he just nods, though he is still lost, confused and kind of angry. She pours a generous amount into both glasses and then hands one over to Harry before chugging hers down faster than ever. 
“Did anything go missing?”
“Literally nothing,” she laughs bitterly. “Everything seems untouched and I just don’t understand it at all. Why would someone break in if they don’t take anything valuable?”
“Money? Jewelry? Everything is here?”
“Everything. I checked everything.”
Harry is now just as clueless as Y/N. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s also somehow even worse. Whoever broke in had a reason to, but it’s completely hidden for now. 
When she reaches for the bottle again he notices how much her hands are shaking. She is a nervous wreck. 
“Hey, you don’t want to lose your rationality right now,” Harry softly warns her as he grabs her hand and stops her from pouring another one. 
“I’m fucking terrified, Harry,” she admits, her voice shakes and so weak like never before. Harry’s heart breaks for her. “Have you ever felt unsafe in your own home?”
“I have,” Harry answers without hesitation and that’s when she finally looks him in the eyes again. “I had a few stalkers throughout the years and attempted break-ins.”
And just like that, something changes in her. The last bits of the wall she so carefully built up between the two of them are destroyed and she lets him see her fully and so naked emotionally. Her lips tremble, tears dwell in her eyes and just as the first sob breaks out of her chest, he is pulling her into his embrace. 
For a second Harry thinks it might be just luck, that she is only opening up to him like this because he is the one who is physically here with her, but he then wipes this thought and just focuses on being the support she truly needs. 
He holds her tight as she cries into his chest, pressing kisses to the top of her head until she calms down and regains control over her breathing. 
“Pack a bag for a few days, stay at mine for a bit, okay?” he softly says when she finally pulls back, just enough to look at him. She doesn’t try to put up a fight, just nods and lets him walk her up to her bedroom. 
He helps her pack, she grabs the clothes while Harry packs her laptop and chargers. Half an hour later they are getting into his car before heading over to Harry’s place. The car ride is silent and Harry doesn’t even try to talk her through it. He knows how important it is to let her find her own peace in this situation instead of trying to just temporarily divert her attention. 
It’s actually her first time at his place, so she is curiously examining the place when they finally arrive. Harry shows her around quickly and then they reach the bedrooms upstairs.
“Choose a bedroom, personally my favorite is that one,” he smiles softly, pointing at the one next to his own bedroom. She walks closer and peeks inside, then into his bedroom and he watches her patiently.
“Can I… sleep with you?”
Her request surprises him, but he would be lying if he said a part of him wasn’t hoping for it. 
“Sure, of course,” he nods and gestures for her to walk inside. 
He sets down her bag to the ottoman at the end of his king sized bed while she looks around. Harry grabs a towel for her from the closet and hands it over to her.
“Take a shower, I’ll make tea for you, how does that sound?”
She just nods, holding the towel to her chest and he can’t believe how vulnerable she looks. The Y/N he’s known for the past few months is nothing like the woman standing in front of him right now. 
“Alright, then I’ll…” 
He clears his throat and then turns around to give her privacy, but he doesn’t even get to take a step before she grabs his hand and pulls him back. He opens his mouth to ask what else she needs, but he is met with her lips pressing against his, hard and needy and he wastes no time to return the kiss just as passionately. His arms curl around her tightly, like an armor, ready to protect her from anything and everything. 
They stumble into the bathroom and she pulls away, just enough so that she can start stripping out of her clothes, but Harry stops for a minute before things get too heated too fast.
“Wait, are you… Today was a lot, are you sure you… want to…?”
“I’m sure. I need this,” she nods and even though she appears just as vulnerable as before, there’s some kind of strong will mixed in her state now. Harry stares back at her, looking for any kind of sign that this might be a bad idea, but then she adds: “I need you.”
And Harry knows in that moment that he would give her anything in this world, because he fell for her again, but this time, it’s nothing like he has ever felt before.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
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sunlight ☀️
hii it’s me againn. could you also do tasm peter who is nerdy and nerdy reader? and it’s kind of like a meet cute at the library? that’s literally my dream 😔 (you can tell i’m in my spiderman kick again)
-🎀
love a good spiderman kick ☺️ hope you like it!
pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x reader word count: 1.4k tags: just fluff
The exam was next week, and Peter still hadn’t gotten a chance to so much as glance at the most helpful textbook. The only copy the library carried had been way over due for ages, and the damn things were way too expensive to buy. He hoped it would be back by today because the late fees would be so much worse after today’s cut off. So, into the library he strode to look for it for what felt like the millionth time. 
He was sure the librarian remembered him, and which book he was after, after so many attempts, so he went straight up to the desk. Peter raised his eyebrows in question, in hope. He wrung his hands together as the librarian gave him a look he couldn’t quite decipher. “So?” he finally couldn’t help.
“You just missed it,” the librarian deadpanned. How could she be so damn calm? She must know his life depended on getting his hands on this book! Well, maybe not his life, but definitely his grade… important enough.
“What?! And you didn’t hold it for me or something?” “Hold it for you? What do you think this is, kid? We don’t take reservations.”
After a moment, though, she sighed in slight defeat, something akin to pity entering her hardened features. She gave a sideways nod toward the person standing at the other end of the desk. 
“Maybe she’ll share,” she whispered. 
Peter followed her look. His eyes landed on a girl. She looked mortified. Given the books lying next to her open backpack on the desk, she’d clearly been packing them up. At the top of the pile lay the coveted textbook. And she’d clearly overheard his whole exchange with the librarian. 
You lock your gaze onto the books in front of you. You could feel your cheeks warming, and the last thing you wanted was to accidentally make eye contact with this stranger. This ridiculously attractive stranger you’d noticed in class before… Peter Parker… who had clearly had the same idea about the book being returned today…
You feel terrible at having snatched it up just before him. You hadn’t known someone else was after it, too, but you could’ve guessed, and it felt like pure luck that you got it first. You have no idea how to react, and before you can come up with any idea at all, you sense him stepping toward you and freeze in panic.
“Um, hey,” Peter whisper-says. God, why didn’t he just speak at a normal volume? He was in the library, sure, but just the entrance. He’s sure he sounded weird, and that’s the last thing he wanted after his little outburst clearly made you uncomfortable. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten the book before him. 
Your eyes dart up to meet his at his words, and when they do, his nerves increase tenfold. Your eyes are so damn pretty. All of you is. And you look half way to an anxiety attack at his approach. “Hey, sorry,” he tries. “Sorry, I know we don’t know each other, but I just… Um, well… Sorry about that,” he ends lamely, gesturing back to where his exchange with the librarian just occurred. “It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling awkwardly and tucking your hair behind your ears. You look back down at your hands, pulling at the too-long sleeves of your shirt. 
Peter’s hand comes up to his head, messing with his hair in a typical nervous tick. He can’t stop staring at you, and you can’t stop avoiding his stare. He had to say something else before the mounting awkwardness blew up. Why couldn’t he think of anything? God, why was his heart racing faster than it ever did when he had to fight giant, scary monsters? Somehow you were scarier. 
“Um,” he starts again. “You in, uh, you in Vidal’s biology class?” he ventures, guessing you need the book to study for the same exam as he. It blows his mind he hasn’t noticed you before if you are.
“Mmhmm,” you nod softly.
“Me too,” he says and cringes. “I don’t recognize you.” “Oh, I don’t know. I tend to sit in the back.” You finally look up at him as you say this. Your eyes meet, and it’s too much to handle. After what feels like an eternal instant, you both look away chuckling. 
Peter’s just nodding like an idiot, chewing his bottom lip, reeling for something else to say but failing miserably. At this point, the thought of getting the book has totally vanished from his mind. The fear of failing next week has been completely replaced with the fear of failing right now.  The idea of your walking away and his not getting to talk to you again makes his stomach sink.
You’re just staring at your hands, unsure what you’re supposed to do in this kind of situation. How do people just know what they’re supposed to do when other people are involved? 
You still feel really bad that you got the book first, and you figure he’s only still talking to you to ask when you’ll be done with it. The exam is so soon, you hadn’t really been planning to return it till after. But keeping it to yourself when he needed it too made your stomach twist. You didn’t even know him, but you wanted to help him. So, you mustered the courage to do something you know, from experience, you otherwise wouldn’t do.
You say softly, “If you want… um, I don’t know… maybe, we could share it?”
“What?” he responds, too quickly, confused, his voice nervously airy.
You’re not sure if he didn’t hear what you said — possible with how softly you’re speaking — or didn’t understand what you meant, so you don’t know what to say. Words are too hard, so you just grab the book — your hands grateful for something to do — and hold it up to him like an offering. 
“Oh!” he hiccups. Then, “Oh,” he says more quietly, chuckling lightly. “I mean, I don’t want to bother you. You got it first fair and square.” “Yeah,” you shrug. “But you need it, too, right?” 
“Yeah…” His mind begins stirring up images of the two of you studying together… maybe laughing together eventually… sitting closer together to both get a good look at the book… 
It’s making his heart beat faster, and he realizes he’d be an idiot to not seize the opportunity. It’s the perfect excuse to spend more time with you, and he doesn’t even have to ask you out. Yet. 
So, he quickly says, “Yeah, um, sharing would be great. If you don’t mind. I can just meet up with you whenever you were going to study anyway… Wherever is good for you; I don’t mind; you choose; whatever you prefer is good with me —” Having started, he can’t stop talking now, his nerves morphing into words, eager to leave his body. 
You giggle at his garrulousness, and he knows he’s in trouble when the sound of it makes his breath hitch. 
“Well,” you say. “I was planning to get started now… you know, since I’d been waiting to get my hands on the book. If you wanted to, um, maybe go to the café maybe?” 
You hadn’t in fact been planning to start right away. If you were honest with yourself, you’d been planning to put it off till you couldn’t not… like you always did no matter how hard you tried to get an early start. Note to self: the only cure you’ve found to procrastination so far: ridiculously pretty boys with warm eyes and a voice you could listen to forever. 
“Yeah, that’d be great. That’d be great,” he nods, smiling. It’s the first time you’ve seen him fully smile. You’d be happy to just hand him the book as long as you could watch him study, the exam be damned. 
“Great,” you repeat, grabbing your things and turning toward the café. Your eyes widen in panicked disbelief at what just happened. You glance slightly back just to make sure you hadn’t imagined it, and sure enough: Peter Parker is taking a quick step to follow you. He falls in step with you as you walk, and it’s terrifying and invigorating just how much you like the feeling of him close beside you.
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mykoreanlove · 2 days
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i need skz angst like rn??😭
hyunjin x female reader, and they maybe decide to go out to like a club or something, and some guy hits on the reader and hyunjin is like “you were flirting back!” and the reader is just very confused bc they tried to let the guy know as kindly as possible that they are taken, but hyunjin is still really mad and it results in them fighting
and then maybe hyunjin decides to go home but not like a shared apartment thing like he goes somewhere reader doesn’t know about
and then a day passes and he’s like “oh no i fucked up” and comes to readers apartment to apologize
happy ending? tysmmm🎀
I was like sure, let's writing something short and quick but somehow it turned into 6 pages lol. hope u enjoy it :)
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The pros of being an insanely hot couple? A lot of sex and affection, a lot of people wanting to be like you and a lot of praise and admiration.
The cons of being an insanely hot couple? A lot of people trying to take your place, a lot of jealous envy and a lot of insecurity.
“Baby, you look incredible”, Hyunjin whispered into your ear as he hugged you from behind. You were standing in front of the mirror, admiring your look for the night. “I wanted to look good for you”, you shyly admitted as you leaned into him. “There is absolutely nothing you have to do to accomplish this, y/n. Nothing, you hear me?”
Ever since you met Hyunjin a couple of weeks ago your whole world turned around. You were used to dating a lot and having fun, but this was different. He was different. Both of you fell for the other rather quickly, a romance that revealed a hidden side within you.
“I want to kiss you so badly”, you whined.
“Why don’t you?”
Instantaneously, you pointed to your lips covered in deep ruby red.
“Ah”, he nodded understandingly. “Is it okay then if I do this?”, Hyunjin asked before kissing every inch of your collarbone, slightly sucking to mark his territory.
Hyunjin was a confident guy, knowing damn well that he was good looking and talented and still he felt conflicted at times. What if this was not enough? What if he was not enough for you? Since you were in your early dating stages, he never had vocalized his concerns, but his body did. His need to be near you, touch you and possess you was evident from the start.
“Jinnie, stop”, you giggled as you pushed him away.
Irritation grew on his face, not understanding why you were distancing yourself.
“I’m gonna be covered in marks that everyone is going to see”, you teased.
He felt his chest tighten. Did you not want others to see them? Did you want to be perceived as single? His own sparks of insecurity got ignited again, waiting to turn into a full-size fire.
The club was crowded with people of all kinds – dancers, jocks, hot models, a real feast for the eye. You were used to people turning their heads, especially when you were together with Hyunjin. It never bothered you that much since you knew how devoted he was to you.
“Can I tell you something?” You were laying on his chest, watching him breathe calmly. “Sure.” “I found your old DVDs in the basement, and I started watching them while you were at work. Binging them, really. And I saw something that really stuck with me”, he explained silently. “What was it?” “Ever thine. Ever mine. Ever ours”, he explained softly. You turned your head and gazed into his teary eyes. “We haven’t been together that long, I know. But this is exactly how I feel, y/n. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore. Cannot. Do not want to. Impossible.” You started tearing up as well, finally feeling at home with another soul. You placed a soft kiss on his plush lips and whispered: “I’ll be your Carry, baby.”
“Come dance with me”, you shouted as you pulled him to the dance floor. It was hot and sticky, but you didn’t mind, in fact you loved it like that. The music was energetic and vibrant, filling the whole room with energy and life force. You only had eyes for Hyunjin, watching his body move gracefully to the music. When he danced, he became one with the tunes, one with the movements. He smirked as he caught you staring, knowing damn well that you were weak for his dancing. As the song changed into a slower, sexier one you found yourself in front of him, grinding on his muscular body. All the other people were forgotten as you swayed your hips on him, feeling him getting hard behind you. His hands on your body and his hot breath on your neck was all you needed to know.
Hyunjin however was more prone to your surroundings. He enjoyed having you like that, but he hated sharing you with others. He was too aware of the other pair of eyes that was set on you. Like a reflex, he pulled you closer, grabbed a bit harder and provoked your surrender, demonstrating whom you belonged to.
“Fuck, baby, if you keep this up, we have to go”, you moaned into his ear.
“Let’s do that”, his whole face lit up. “Let’s get out of here, y/nnie.”
“But we just came?”, you whined in annoyance.
Hyunjin’s eyes darkened as his gaze pierced through you. Just like that, goosebumps formed on your skin, electricity cursed through your body making you feel all hot. He knew exactly what he was doing to you.
“I’m going to the bathroom really quick to fix this situation right here”, he said as he nodded to his crotch, “and when I come back, we leave, you hear me?”
You swallowed and nodded, already anticipating the night ahead.
“Good girl.”
He placed a kiss on your forehead and turned around, quickly looking for the bathroom.
You walked over to the exit and leaned against the cold wall, waiting for your boyfriend, already picturing him doing unspeakable things to you. You were so engulfed in your naughty daydreams that you didn’t even notice the guy from the dancefloor approaching you.
“Hey!”
“Oh, hi”, you replied politely.
“I saw you dancing earlier, damn you got moves!”, he complimented you.
“Thanks”, you replied drily.
“So uhm, would you like to have a drink with me?”
“No”, you shook your head.
“Why not?”
“Well, if you saw me dancing earlier you must have seen my boyfriend behind me, right? That’s why.”
“Shit, sorry. I kinda hoped that he was just another guy hitting on you.”
“Far from that.”
“He’s that great, huh?”
“Y/N”, Hyunjin called out angrily while glaring at the other guy.
You were taken aback by his tone, feeling anxious so you followed him without saying a word.
Fumingly, he marched to the car, while you were trying to keep up. Hyunjin placed both of his hands on the cold metal of the vehicle as he was trying to calm himself.
“Jinnie”, you called out softly.
“Don’t fucking call me that, y/n.”
“What?”
He turned around and faced you, his pupils were dilated, and his nostrils flared – he was angry as fuck.
“Don’t fucking call me that when you were flirting with some dickhead behind my back!”
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course, I am. That bastard was eye-fucking you while we were dancing, and I left you alone for 5 minutes and you were already cozying up to him?”
“Cozying up to him? Cozying up to him? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“What? I know what I saw!”
“Enlighten me, then. What did you see?”
“I saw you all smiley and giggly, you were practically shooting heart eyes emojis at him! Is that why you hated me giving you hickeys on your collarbone? So, everybody could see you were available?!”
You felt the punch to your stomach, making it harder to breathe. Every single word of his was laced in the most painful accusation, one that you had been familiar with way too often.
“Yeah, you’re right. I was flirting back and shooting heart eyes emojis at him. It was so much fun! And I was damn grateful that my body was free of your damn hickeys!”, you retorted angrily.
Hyunjin was about to explode, not being able to differentiate between your lies and his perceived reality.
Wordless, he turned around and got into the car. You looked at him one last time, hoping that he would come to his senses – but he didn’t. The loud sound of his engine disturbed the quiet of the night and not seconds later he was gone.
What should have been a fun night out for a young couple turned into a vicious disaster. One was crying hiding in the dirty toilet of a club, while the other was crying racing down the highway. Promises of forever love turned into accusations of unfaithfulness, painting your rosy world of adoration into black loneliness.
You had no idea how you made it back home, nor did you care. The following day was torture – you were ruminating over everything, trying to understand what had happened yesterday. Deep sadness filled your whole being. Hyunjin did not call, nor text. He vanished out of your life, just like he vanished into the night air yesterday. Was that it? Was it over?
“Damn, you look like shit. Why are your eyes so puffy?”
Hyunjin pulled the covers over his head, trying to dissolve into thin air.
“Hey, come on. Talk to me”, his friend encouraged him.
“I may have made the biggest mistake of my life yesterday.”
“Oh my god, did you cheat on y/n?”
“What? No. Of course not. I would never do that”, he explained.
“What did you do then?”
“I accused her of cheating on me.”
“Shit, sorry.”
“Don’t be. This was the last time I let my demons take over”, he mumbled as he left his room.
By evening, you felt better – at least good enough to go for a walk and clear your head. Minutes after you left Hyunjin appeared at your door – holding a giant bouquet of flowers in his trembling hands. He rang your door hundreds of times, knocked on it until his knuckles were swollen and called out for you until his throat was sore. But nothing.
Defeated, he slid down to the ground and thought of what to do.
“Y/N, I made a big mistake yesterday. I am so sorry. I should have never accused you of shit like that.”
He was wiping away his tears again, the thought of loosing you made his heart break every single time.
“You see I’m not perfect. Far from it. Yet somehow you seem to think that way. And I just… I just wait for the shoe to drop. For you to finally realize that I’m nothing special.”
“Jinnie”, you called out his name while stopping in front of your apartment. His eyes widened in surprise, immediately followed by relief. “You didn’t open up because you hated me but because you weren’t home…”
“Don’t flatter yourself, hate is on the top of the list right now”, you glared angrily.
He lowered his head in defeat.
“Are those for me?”, you nodded to the bouquet of flowers.
“Yes.”
You opened the door and passed by him. “Put them in a vase, then.”
Surprised, he got up on his feet and followed you inside.
“Can we talk?”
You sat across from him, giving him the cold shoulder.
“Talk.”
“Y/N, I am sorry. Please believe me, I am so sorry. I was seeing things, I let my insecurities win and I accused you of shit you didn’t do. Please, forgive me.”
“What did you think happened there?”
“I saw you guys talking and then I saw red. Like, you were smiling from ear to ear, practically shooting heart eyes emojis at him. I just, I just saw red.”
You sighed deeply, finally understanding where he was coming from.
“You’re right. I was shooting heart eyes emojis at him.”
“What?” Hyunjin’s heart was about to explode.
“But only because I was talking about you, Jinnie. He asked me out for a drink, and I explained to him that I already found the greatest guy on earth. I was gushing over you, like a freaking fan girl.”
“He’s that great, huh?” “Oh my god, yes. He is the greatest. No really, he is great at everything. Dancing, painting, loving? The best. He is also the kindest and loveliest guy I ever met. Always caring for the ones he loves. Never a dull moment with him. He makes me laugh so much. I swear I got abs because of him. And did you see how handsome he is? Fuck me, it’s like God created him himself and brought him to earth, so we could adore him. Fucking masterpiece, that man.” “Okay, okay, I got it”, the guy gave up. “Must be one hell of a lover.” “One hell of a lover. One hell of a soul. My soul, actually.”
“I feel like the biggest idiot right now”, he admitted ashamed.
“Yeah, you should feel like that.”
“I’m sorry, y/nnie. Can you forgive me?”
Silence lingered between the two of you, only for a moment, until you got up and walked over to him. You put your arms around his lean torso and hugged him tightly, willing to put this past you.
Hyunjin’s body finally relaxed, as he hugged you back. His lips landed on the crown of your head, simply resting there, and holding you close.
“Jinnie, wait. There is something else you need to know.”
He released you from his grip and looked at you anxiously.
“What is it?”
“When I was younger, I got bullied for hickeys. My first boyfriend always left them on my neck and the others harassed me for it, calling me slut and all sorts of names. So, it’s true, I don’t like them being visible.”
Hyunjin’s heart broke once more – for one because you had to endure this harassment, but also because he bullied you himself.
“I’m sorry, y/nnie. I won’t do that ever again.”
“Wait, no. I love your hickeys. I love your lips on me, I really do. But can we, maybe, agree to leave hickeys in places only we can see?”, you asked shily.
Hyunjin chuckled and pulled you in for a kiss, promising to do just that.
“I really meant what I said. I can’t imagine my life without you. I really can’t.”
You grabbed his hands and squeezed them, agreeing you felt the same way.          “I feel like we should talk about your insecurities, but I’m drained from last night.”
“Let’s relax for now, baby.”
“What do you want to do?”
Hyunjin’s lips turned upwards, forming the loveliest yet sneakiest smile.
“Okay, fine. I get the popcorn and you switch on the TV. Sex and the city marathon it is”, you rolled your eyes at him teasingly.
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majesty-madness · 2 days
Text
Back Then - Husband!Sebastian Sallow x Wife!reader (sfw)
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Summary: As the first week of marriage comes to a close inside they’re new home, Y/N can’t help but to think back on the old days. 
Word Count: 1300+
Warnings: slight angst, kissing, newly married Sebastian & reader, mostly fluff, a bit of suggestive content (like one joke, and the ending)
a/n: Not proofread. Fucking love this game (perhaps a bit too much).
Main Masterlist
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It’s night out, Y/N stands in the lamp lighted bedroom, staring out the window overlooking the front garden. She can hear the crickets chirping outside and the fireflies are in full bloom in the darkened night. She’s already dressed herself in her white nightgown, the material soft on her skin. 
Though she stood in the house she shared with her husband, her mind wandered back in time when she met him for the very first time. It had been in Defense Against the Dark Arts Class, learning to duel with an opponent, and the words “Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome” caused a soft chuckle to slip past her lips. 
Even though he sounded overconfident, his words made her giddy with excitement and then she’d won. She had surprised herself when she managed to pull that off. And when he walked up to her she was expecting a snarky remark or perhaps a nasty comment but he’d said, “You give as good as you get.” He also smirked playfully at her before walking away and she couldn’t deny the way his words caused a flurry of warmth to rush to her cheeks back then. 
As soon as they’d met, she knew she was done for. 
Again a laugh escaped her and without her knowledge her husband had come back to their bedroom, fresh from his bath. Sebastian stared lovingly as he watched his beautiful wife laugh quietly to herself. 
Throwing the towel he just used to dry his hair onto a nearby chair, he silently approached his wife from behind and when he was close enough to gently wrap his arms around her waist she didn’t flinch or jump away, instead she pressed her back against his chest as she melted into his warmth. 
“What are you laughing about?” Sebastian asked, pressing a delicate kiss to the back of her neck. 
She smiled in return, “I was just thinking about the first time we met.” 
Sebastian hummed back at her answer, pressing several other kisses into her skin. “Mmhm, we met in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, we dueled each other, remember?” 
Sebastian scoffed, “How could I forget the moment I met the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” 
This caused both of them to laugh at the playful comment before Y/N continued. “I remember you walking up to me, saying ‘Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,’ very confident of you I must say.” 
“Well I had a reputation to uphold.” Sebastian reasoned. 
This time Y/N scoffed. “Yeah, and as I recall I swept that reputation right from underneath you.” 
“That wouldn’t be the last time I was underneath you.” 
Y/N gasped then slapped him on the arm, causing him to burrow into her neck once more with a laugh. “Don’t be so crude, I was reminiscing about school.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, darling.” Sebastian half-heartedly apologized although he meant no such thing. 
There was a pause as the two of them listened to the crickets outside, both taking a deep breath and feeling each other decompress in their exhale. 
“I didn’t realize it then, but that was the start of so many things.” Y/N uttered fondly, oblivious to Sebastian’s sudden frown. 
“The start of so many mistakes.” Sebastian spoke softly, almost repeating Y/N’s exact words.
Only turning her head, Y/N stared up at Sebastian as she observed his expression. “Don't do that to yourself.” 
He couldn’t help but to shake his head. “I can’t help thinking about it all. The desperation, the anger, the betrayal; I wished we had met in different circumstances then perhaps our fifth year together might have been normal.”
“Sebastian…” Y/N huffed, the makings of a smirk spreading across her lips. “I was entering Hogwarts for the first time as a fifth year student who could see traces of an ancient magic, who would complete these trails created by wizards from long ago to see their memories and ended up fighting a goblin turned dragon before the year ended.” 
Sebastian looked down to see his wife smirking. “Regardless of how we met, our fifth year was never going to be normal.” 
Just like that the dark thoughts whirling in were cast away by Y/N’s light hearted humor, and it didn’t hurt that she was absolutely correct. 
He let out a deep root laugh, nuzzling into Y/N’s neck once more and began to gently sway her in his arms. “I suppose you’re right, darling. And I believe that even if my situation hadn’t been what it was, we would’ve met eventually anyhow.” 
Y/N pulled away a bit only to turn to face him while still in his embrace, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck. “Call it fate. Someone had to keep an eye on you.”
“Well I’m glad to have had your company, Mrs. Sallow, even if it was to keep me out of trouble.” 
“To be fair, I didn’t do a very good job at it.” 
Tightening his hold around her back, he pressed Y/N further into his chest. “True. Probably wasn’t the wisest to send the ancient magic prodigy to babysit a no good scoundrel.”
He said it like it was a joke, but the regret quickly filling his eyes didn’t fool Y/N. Her expression fell into that of compassion and without thinking, she brought her hand up to softly caress the underside of his jaw. 
“Hey now..” The words barely a whisper as she spoke. “I love you and despite it all, I’m glad that I met you. I’ve never had any regrets about that so you shouldn’t either.”
“I love you too.” Was all he said then leaned in to plant a tender kiss to Y/N’s lips. First it was the soft, overly gentle kiss that most new couples share in moments of vulnerability but seamlessly turned deeper, passionate. The heat of lust rising within and fanning the flames of love that survived the hardships promised to every living being. 
Their hands began to wander over the familiar plane of their partner, taking note of the thumping heartbeat and the sudden warmth enveloping the skin. They continued this memorized dance for several more seconds, pulling away only when the need to air outweighed the need for the other. A light panting exchanged between the two when Y/N’s eyes had left Sebastian’s for just a moment to stare at the bed. 
“The sheets…” She breathlessly uttered. 
His brow furrowed slightly. “What about them?”
She looked back at him. “They’re new.”
“And?”
Y/N brought her hands to seductively fiddle with the two tops buttons of Sebastain’s nightshirt, only to finally unbutton them completely. “Annnd,” she let the word roll on her tongue for longer than necessary, “I think that it’s time that we break them in, see how they hold up.”
She could almost see the ways his eyes darkened at the promiscuous suggestion though he chuckled despite the heat growing in his groin. “Good idea, darling, it’s best we make good use of the new house. See what we can get away with.”
Sebastian had let his hand drift from her back over the plump flesh of her bottom, giving her rear a small squeeze and suddenly lowering his hands to the back of her thighs to lift her up into the air. Y/N let out a gasp at the motion with a sweet giggle bursting from her throat right after as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist as he carried her towards their bed. She gave him a few pecks on lips, continuing to do so even as her back was lowered to the plush material of the mattress. 
For the remainder of the evening, Y/N and Sebastian got lost in each other’s touch; not sure where one ended and the other began. And into the late hours of the night, Y/N couldn’t help reminiscing on how much her life had changed. 
Through all the pain, the battles, the injuries, and broken hearts, Y/N would always be thankful that she met the trouble making fifth year: Sebastian Sallow, a good friend and the love of her life.
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fantasyandshit · 7 hours
Text
Replaced part two
Omg I’m so upset- it won’t let me tag like anyone with dashes in their name at allll soooo if you commented on that post I am so so so sorry I couldn’t tag you guys
Type: one shot turned more
Part: 2/2
Part 1 here
Masterlist here
Pairing: Azriel x reader/ mystery character x reader
Seriously guys thank you so much- I’m so glad that the first part had so much love and I hope this one is just as good.
“So, what did you need my love?” I lean down to kiss my fiancés temple. He’s stressed, I can tell. His fingers tap away in rhythm with his foot. “Baby- what’s going on? Why are you so stressed?” My hands run down the length of his arms in a soothing motion. “How can I help you?”
The new high lord of autumn’s head meets my shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. His head raises till his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “Baby I need you to sit down.” His smile disappears as soon as it came and I frown, moving to the seat on the other side of his desk. I raise my brows expectantly as his hands move to reach mine. “Love- we have a high lords meeting in two weeks time. They have requested it be held here in order to see how I’m handling the court now.”
“Ok? And?”
“Darling I want to introduce you as the new high lady of Autumn. I want you come along.” He sighs, “it means you will have to see all of them again.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I breath for a moment, thinking about it, it’s been nearly five years since I left, the last time I saw any of them was the battle with Hybern, and even then Eris kept me mostly away from them so that I wasn’t distracted. “I’ll go.”
“Are you sure darling?”
“Very. I want them to see me as the high lady of autumn. Not the girl that left all that time ago.”
He smirks his signature smirk, pride filling his eyes. “Very well. Shall we begin planning?”
———
Everyone has finally arrived- or what is usually everyone, confusion sets in as Eris seems to sit in waiting, an empty chair beside him at the head of the table. “Are we waiting for someone Eris?”
“Yes actually. Shell be here any moment, she likes making an entrance.” Something bothers Azriel with the way the high lord smirks. He didn’t know who was going to walk through that door but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
The door swings open, a woman stepping through, decked in a gorgeous burnt orange dress, green and gold accents around her body, a golden crown, one looking like leaves woven together rests on her head. As her eyes catch Eris’ she smiles. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t started without me.” She surveys the room before stepping towards the empty seat. Eris stands, going to pull it out with one hand and take hers on his other. The pause for a moment, facing the table together.
“Everyone. I’d like you to meet my fiance and the high lady of the Autumn court. Some of you may already know her.”
As the female turns to kiss Eris, it clicks for Azriel. “Yn.” He can’t help but gasps and that is when it finally hits the inner circle of the night court.
“Hello guys. Long time no see.”
Cassian speaks this time, his brows furrowed and mouth agape, “you- your with him? Your the high the high lady?”
“Yes, in fact our wedding is next month. I am terribly excited. Especially after being named the high lady of Autumn.” She and Eris sit finally, hands staying tied together
An agony Azriel has never felt tears through him as he stares at his mate. She looks back to him as he gasps, clenching his chest wildly.
“Azriel. I’d like to get through my first meeting as high lady. So if you could stop…flailing. That would be preferred.” Yn clears her throat before turning to the others at the table. “I’ve seen some things. I see Koshei. I thought we took care of our issues with him, however I-“
The meeting continues, the night court still trying to process the news. After the meeting is finished, the high lords are given a walk through of the new Autumn court. “Yn. Yn can we speak please.” It was towards the end of the tour, courts had been led to where they’d be staying, only the inner circle trailed behind, minus Morrigan and Cassian who had been dropped off to their respective rooms.
I choose to ignore the shadowsinger, instead stopping at the next door and turn back to Rhysand and Feyre, “You two will be staying here. This castle works much like the house of wind. It will cater to you, we do tend keep things much warmer here for obvious reasons so if you are uncomfortable with the temperature just say the word and it will be brought down by the house.”
“Goodnight Yn.” I nod before turning back to lead the final male to where he’d be staying, Eris never leaving my side. We barely make it three steps down the hall before I feel Rhsyand pry at my mental walls.
‘What do you want Rhysand.’
‘You should talk to him Yn. He’s been devastated since you left and see you with Eris killed him I-‘
I shut it down. I don’t want to hear some sob story from my mate who didn’t even want me till I was gone. “You will be staying here Azriel. What I said to Rhysand and Feyre goes the same for you.”
Me and Eris turn to leave before I’m grabbed by the arm. “Wait. Yn can we please just talk.”
Eris growls. “Get your filthy hands off my fucking finance.”
The shadowsinger seems to get just as upset, opening his mouth to speak before I rip my arm from his grasp and turn, a glare resting on my features.
“Don’t you fucking dare! You have no right- no fucking right to get angry at my fiancée! Do you understand, you didn’t want me and I don’t fucking want you so go wallow in your self pity but stay the hell away from me!” Eris rubs soothing circles on my arm, a glare that could kill sent towards the shadowsinger as he grabs me, winnowing us to our room.
—————
Sooo I hope this lives up to your guys’ expectations!
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starfxkr · 1 day
Note
Trailer park JJ is the definition of grown man dick. Imagine he’s being a real fucking asshole, even more emotionally unavailable than he usually is and you can’t stand it.
So, you start saying yes to a few dates, ignoring JJ even when he shows up to your trailer. One day he sees you in the yard with a guy your age, flirting with him like you do Jay and he flips out.
Anyways, you end up fucking him in his trailer and he’s calling you a lil slut but he knows you like his grown man dick more than any other asshole asking you on dates. Tears streaming down your face and he’s shoving your panties in ur mouth.
Safe to say your back to your routine of playing house in no time. The next morning your riding him after you made breakfast, and he’s all relaxed watching the news.
I NEED HIM
hes so shades of cool coded....so guns and roses coded even...
because you're tired of crying over him every night, he keeps dangling the age gap over your head, calling you immature and clingy despite telling you he loves you and he's gonna make you his girl so you deadass just stop coming around. he thinks youre bluffing at first because you always are until 2 days turns into a week which turns into 2 weeks and he realizes you may be serious, because word gets around very fast that you're dating some dude you knew in high school and that mean, petty streak rears its ugly head again.
he walks up to you like, it's been a long time since i had you in my bed sugar, i know you miss me." and you're trying to get him to leave, and the guy you're with is trying to buck up against him until jj starts recounting that time last week you left a voicemail on his phone--drunk and crying, begging him to come fuck you because your new dude just can't do it right so he leaves you standing there having a screaming match with jj who promptly drags you to his trailer and gives you the dicking of your life.
"don't know why you think you had to walk around actin like a slut to get my attention, you know you love your papa's dirty old man dick makin this pussy cum." and he's right because you're fuckin pitiful underneath him crying and begging him to let you cum as best as you can with your panties in your mouth.
yall are back "together" the next morning, you're making pancakes and coffee in one of his old shirts giving him kisses and he knows you ain't goin nowhere.
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ludicdoll · 2 days
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hello! been obsessed with your work! (I think I already read all archie madekwe x reader fics from you tbh). Been sobbing over Lizzy McAlpine's song Vortex. And I couldn't stop imagining Farleigh x reader who is in an on and off again relationship. Reader tries to stop herself from going back every time he's at her doorstep begging. But always fails. And it's just sad. LMAO
𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑
farleigh start ☆
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pairing: farleigh start x fem!reader
contents: angst, mentions of sex, slut calling, farleigh being a little bitch, reader is also an american, smoking, suggestive at the end but no smut, kinda toxic
synopsis: although your relationship with farleigh is complicated, you can’t help but run back to him every time he needs you.
a/n: this is so late im sorry i’ve been so busy and this has been sitting in my drafts for a while😭
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there’s something so alluring about farleigh that makes you chase him constantly—even if he pays no attention to you. you long for his approval, his touch, and in his absence you realize you can’t seem to function correctly without him. your relationship with farleigh is complex, to say the least, and everybody around you knows this. whenever you would tell felix that you and farleigh had split up again, he always replied with “give it a week.” and somehow, he’s always right. but, this one was different. you split up with farleigh a few weeks ago and he hasn’t even tried to make an attempt to contact you. he knew you’d come back around sooner or later, but you were persistent on keeping your ground.
your breakup with farleigh was because he had called you a slut, just straight up—which was quite ironic because he was the known campus whore. usually you would ignore his silly and childish name calling, but you hated him calling you a slut, it was too degrading for you. you remember the way farleigh blew up in your face when you told him the two of you were over, it was a priceless expression. now, you’re currently standing outside of the saltburn estate, leaning up against one of the large extravagant stone pillars. felix was hosting a party tonight, a big one at that. the colorful flashing lights can be seen outside, a neon cast over the large grassy field.
you decide to step out for a smoke and some fresh air after you locked eyes with farleigh as he was dancing with a girl, her hips grinding against his. that image alone made you shiver in disgust. although you had broken up with him, you missed him bad. you tried to deny it, but if you had to be honest with yourself—you didn’t know who you were without farleigh. if only he would give you a genuine apology, everything would be fine but his pride stopped him from doing so.
you turn your head when you hear the grand doors behind you creaking open. you watch as felix stumbles out, his dark brown hair disheveled from the party. you’re surprised to see him since he had vanished halfway through the party with some random girl you presume. felix turns, a surprised expression on his face. you look over at him, smiling weakly as you raise your cigarette to your lips.
he stands by the door for a minute, stretching his neck before walking over to you. “what are you doing out here?” he asks. felix scans your appearance, eyes widening when he spots a bottle of vodka in your hands, the same bottle that mysteriously disappeared a few hours ago. you shrug slightly, tired and feeling nauseous from the amount of drinks you’ve had tonight. “you missing the states?” felix nudges at your arm playfully. you stare ahead, shaking your head. “i just needed to clear my mind,” you mutter as you lift the bottle to your mouth, taking a long gulp. felix notices that you’re out of it, and he looks concerned. “you haven’t been yourself.” he starts, “ever since farleigh—” you raise your hand out, your palm facing him. “don’t. mention. him.” you groan, rubbing your temples to soothe your migraine.
“he misses you,” felix smiles widely. you stare at the red cups littered on the paved ground, slowly zoning out. “we’re not talking.” you reply, he sighs in return. “well, he wouldn’t stop talking about you in professor anderson’s class.” you turn to look at him, raising a suspicious brow. you think he’s joking at first, but his face is completely straight.
“really? i didn’t know the two of you even attended classes.” you joke in an attempt to move the topic elsewhere. “oh, ha ha.” felix replies sarcastically. there’s so many things racing through your mind, but at the same time—your thoughts are empty. you think that the alcohol from tonight has made you more sensitive. “i don’t like it when you guys fight.” felix mutters as he slowly takes your bottle away from your grip. “you should stop drinking too,” he waves the half empty bottle in front of your face.
“it’s not a fight, felix. it’s a breakup.” felix scoffs, shaking his head with a laugh. you turn to look at him, a scowl on your face. “oh, so you think i’m gonna run back to him?” you ask in a bitter tone. he steps back a little, blinking at your unexpected tone switch. “what? i didn’t say anything.” he says defensively. you suddenly feel irritated at everything around you. you excuse yourself abruptly while he tries to explain himself. you speed past him, leaving felix by himself outside while you open the doors to the mansion.
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you can’t stop fidgeting with your pen, clicking it rapidly as you scan the words in the open book in front of you. you were sitting in the library, not for the sake of studying but for the sole purpose of distracting yourself from having a mental breakdown in your dorm. you couldn’t even think straight since your hangover was so bad. you hadn’t tried to dress up today, you didn’t even bother to put on makeup or fix up your hair. you knew people would see you and talk, but you were so tired you couldn’t do it. usually when you and farleigh would split, you’d still be in close contact with your (who were really just his) friends. however, this was different. everyone seemed to be avoiding you—everyone except felix. whenever you’d ask to hang out, their only excuses were “i have to study,” or, “i’m busy tonight,” and when they see you, they’d scurry off in a blink of an eye.
you could only imagine what bullshit story farleigh has came up with your break up to make them run away from you. felix was the only person who still spoke to you, but now you think you’ve lost him after what had happened at the party last night. you stop clicking your pen when you hear a cough in front of you. you look up, freezing up when you see a familiar curly haired boy in front of you. “fancy seeing you here.” he says. you scoff, rolling your eyes and avoiding his gaze. he laughs quietly to himself before crossing his arms. “i didn’t know you studied.” he emphasizes the word “studied” almost like he was attempting to mock you—but he knew you did study, he just wanted to make fun of you. “i didn’t know you even knew what a library was.” you snap back instantly, farleigh just smiles blankly at you as he pulls a chair out and seats himself right across from you.
“what do you want?” you ask sternly. he sighs, shrugging. a tense silence fills the air and you’re slowly suffocating. “i’m serious, farleigh.” he stays quiet, his eyes still on you. “what did you tell the others?” you inquire.
“hmm?”
“no one’s talking to me anymore.”
“that’s not true,” he laughs, “felix was just talking to you last night.” you squint at him, brows furrowed. “were you watching us?” you ask. farleigh tilts his head to the side, flashing a deadpan expression. “please, i have better things to do.” he replies arrogantly. you nod, closing your eyes. “i’m sure you do.” you look back down to read the words on the page, not taking in any of the information—but just so farleigh would piss off. you could still see him in your peripheral vision, but this time he’s leaned closer against the table. “get a life, farleigh.” you mumble under your breath. he laughs dully, a small smirk forming on his lips. “that is rich coming from you. you really like assuming shit, don’t you?”
“well maybe if you took my name out of your mouth, i wouldn’t be assuming.” you reply nonchalantly as you close the book, standing up to leave. you pack your stuff back in your bag, turning away from him. he mouths a quiet “wow” before getting up from the chair as well, following closely behind you. he swiftly steps in front of you, blocking you from leaving. he leans closer to you, just inches away from your face. “you think you’re all that,” he starts. “but in reality, you’re just a fucking whore with no personality.” you quietly wince at his response, eyes wide. “you’re lucky that i even gave you a fucking chance. i made you known, and this is how you repay me?” farleigh spits out, he sounds truly angry—you’ve never heard him like this before. “but it’s fine,” he says while leaning back up, “such a shame, you’re a pretty face. too bad you’re boring.”
you can’t muster up a snappy comeback, you just stare at him, scanning his face for any sign of empathy—but there’s nothing. he just looks distant and cold. you glance around, realizing there was a few students nearby listening. you sniffle under him, blinking away your tears as you quickly brush past his arm.
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it hurts to pretend like you don’t care about what other people said about you, because in actuality you take all of their words into consideration—especially farleigh’s. you had successfully avoided farleigh all week ever since the conversation in the library, and in an attempt to make yourself feel better, you had finally started dressing and glamming up. of course, there was still rumors going around about you and farleigh, every day it seemed like there was a new bizzare one. you had just came back from shopping, sitting on the carpet of your dorm. it was getting dark, everyone else in the hall was getting ready for bed. as you slowly dive into a wormhole of your own thoughts, the sound of an abrupt knock on your door brings you back to reality. you blink, turning your head to look at the door.
you choose to ignore it, pretending like you weren’t there. then, another string of knocks pound on your door loudly. “oh my god, i’m coming!” you yell out as you get up from the floor. you pad over, opening it with an unenthusiastic swing. the person standing infront of you was the last person you expected—farleigh. you almost screamed when you saw him standing there. you groan loudly and roll your eyes, immediately reaching to shut the door on him. before you could lock him out, farleigh stops the door with his hand. “can we talk?” he mutters with his head low, almost as if he was afraid someone was going to hear him. you stand still in the crack of the door, contemplating whether or not you were gonna let him in. farleigh whines, shaking his head slightly.
“please?”
you sigh in defeat, slowly creaking the door open for him. he gives you a small smile before sliding through. he looks around your room for a second, taking in every aspect of your interests plastered on the walls. farleigh sits down on the edge of your bed, realizing he’s never actually seen your dorm before. whenever the two of you would fuck, it was always in his dorm, a random bathroom at the pub, or somewhere at the saltburn mansion. he runs his hand against the soft duvet of your bed, laughing to himself when he spots a pile of stuffed animals by your pillows. you shut the door, turning to face him with your hands on your hips. you stare at him, raising your brows as a way of saying “go on,” farleigh clears his throat, clasping his hands together in his lap. “i’m sorry.” he sounds hesitant when he says it, like he’s being forced to apologize.
you blink, staying silent as he stares up at you with bambi eyes. “and?” you press. farleigh sighs, dropping his eyes to the floor instead. “i was just upset, i didn’t mean anything i said. i love you, you know that.” he says with a whiny tone. you’ve been through this same scenario multiple times, he fucks you over, comes back to apologize and beg for you back, then you have make up sex. every time this happens, you forgive him easily, letting him fuck your brains out to forget everything he had said to you prior. you didn’t want to give in again, but the way he was looking up at you with his dreamy brown eyes, his highlighted curls framing his face perfectly, even his cologne was driving you crazy.
you missed him, you missed his voice, his explicit compliments, especially his touch. “i miss you, baby.” he whimpers. you cock your head to the side, trying to hide your excitement. “really?” you ask with dilated eyes as you slowly step over to him. farleigh nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. “please, baby—please don’t make me sit here and beg.” he groans. he looks at you up and down before reaching for your hand. he intertwines his fingers into yours, a perfect fit. farleigh nuzzles his cheek against the soft flesh of your skin, then he kisses your knuckles, a predator like glint flashing in his eyes. he pulls you onto the bed with him, placing you in his lap as he leaves a trail of delicate kisses down your neck.
“let me make it up to you.” he whispers. you moan softly, looking up at him. you lean your head against his shoulder as his hands roam up your back, then under your shirt. “forgive me, okay?” he mutters in your ear. you feel his hands stopping midway to your bra, and you whine softly in response. you lock eyes with him, nodding eagerly. he gives you a faint smile before he continues to unclasp your bra with a swift move. you knew that he’d fuck up again soon, and you knew you would run back to him again—but if it meant incredible sex, you didn’t mind.
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Mistakes and regrets
☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader
☆ Synopsis: Loki is a prisoner that sees his way out through pretending to date you, but when he finds true love he doesn't know how to deal with the guilt of making a very similar damage to the one that had been done to him when he was used for what originally were selfish reasons.
☆ Word Count: 10.5k, I think that's my longest fic yet, and written in the shortest time lapse, not sure what that says about my mental stability rn.
☆ Notes: As I proofread I noticed this could be interpreted as generational trauma, sort of... given I made Loki sort of mirror what Odin did to him. But I wasn't trying to be deep, I just felt like shit during the week and used this to cope. The fic might be cringy as a result, I am honestly not sure.
☆ Warnings: Depression and guilt are the focus points of this storyline. Loki starts is kinda toxic his behavior here isn't meant to be romanticized or intended to be extrapolated to real life, I just wanted to explore a narrative surrounding poor decisions and the dealing of its consequences. The reader is kinda a Mary Sue of sweetness but I just wanted to hammer in Loki feeling bad and guilty. I don't know if this is a trigger but I touch the vault scene of Loki and Odin and Odin being forgiven is also handled, Idk if that's trigger warning worthy but I know most of the fandom hates him.
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“You’re not making it any for me brother.” Thor spoke through the glass.
“I want my freedom, brother.” Loki sighed, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench. “Don’t think of me as ungrateful, but as much as I appreciate not being executed, I can’t exactly call this a life.”
“Director Fury insisted, I’ve tried explaining to him that New York was a complicated situation. But he wants to be sure you are not a threat to Earth– uh, Midgard.”
“You've surely adapted well to living here” Loki rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”
“Cooperate with me, I brother” Thor begged. “I want to help you, but I need you to help me first.”
“I’m not sure what I am expected to do from here” Loki huffed annoyed.
Thor sighed and gave his little brother a sympathetic look. Loki was frustrated, and he couldn’t blame him. He would be too if he got brainwashed, had all his anger, sense of betrayal and resentment exploited to torture an innocent planet, and still be the one to pay for said crimes… Sure he wouldn’t be all jokes and laughs.
“I’ve been negotiating a way to test your stability and get your freedom” Thor smiled hoping to cheer up his brother. And he made Loki look up. “It’d be a bit uncomfortable at first. But I know you can prove yourself. You’d have to wear cuffs or a while, but you’d be free to walk around with me and the others on trips to the city.”
“Hooray…” Loki rolled his eyes.
“Please brother, I’m trying, I just need you to be patient.” Thor spoke sadly as he made his way out. “I hate this as much as you do.”
“Do you?” Loki said. “As far as I know, you’re not the one in a crystal cell.”
“Alright, almost as much as you do.” Thor joked softly and Loki did chuckle weakly.
He agreed that Thor had been furious. But it all happened so fast.
Thor had managed to land a fatal blow on Thanos’ chest and soon Steve, Natasha, and Bruce had arrived to back him up and retrieve the Infinity gauntlet. They opened a portal to bring back Tony, Doctor Strange, and the Spider Ling… And surprisingly a weird group of space travelers.
When Thor realized they could travel to anywhere in the universe they opened a portal to rescue the Asgardian ship. There were a lot of severe wounds but surprisingly Thanos had failed, he underestimated the strength of Asgard, and most people could be saved.
“Thor!” Valkyrie screamed and rushed to hug the king.
“Valkyrie! You are alright! Thank goodness!” Thor smiled in relief and hugged his friend.
“Thor you have to come quick!” Valkyrie urged him. “It’s Loki!”
Thor’s heart sank, his heart couldn’t stand burying the only family member he had left. Thor had lost his parents… he had seen his whole planet die. But not his baby brother. Not Loki. Not again.
“Please… not now… Let’s treat the wounded ones first…” Thor spoke with a knot on his throat. “I want to focus on saving lives first.”
“Thor, you don’t get it! He’s alive!” Valkyrie scolded him. “But he’s in a critical state! We need to take him to a safe place to treat him.”
A tear streamed down the new king’s face, and he felt as if he had finally put down a enormous boulder he had been holding onto. He didn’t lose Loki.
“Take me to him!” Thor urged them.
Valkyrie took Thor to a damaged room in the ship that had been used as an improvised infirmary. In the corner laid a figure Thor knew too well being treated by healers.
“Brother!” Thor said. “Oh Gods… You’re alive…”
“You can’t get rid of me that easily thunder brain… ugh…!” Loki joked weakly as he groaned in pain. The healers begged him not to move as they tried stabilizing his condition. His neck had been nearly obliterated.
It was a miracle Loki hadn’t died and that the healers had managed to find him on time.
“We couldn’t abandon him” one of the healers spoke politely to her king. “After all, it was because of you and prince Loki that Lady Valkyrie managed to evacuate the survivors. We apologize for not finding you, my king.”
“It’s no problem at all” Thor laughed in an uncharacteristically quiet manner. He was breathless. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life.”
The lady healer let out a sheepish giggle and bowed. Loki rolled his eyes, earning a lecture from the healers that were still treating him. King or not, Thor still had that charm that seemed to make most people swoon.
The reunion was interrupted by a group of soldiers that broke in with a logo on their uniforms that made Thor’s blood boil when they pointed their weapons at Loki. SHEILD.
They picked up the stretcher where Loki was laying in and took him away to lock him up.
Apparently, the news travel fast, but SHIELD travels faster, and hearing Loki was alive was enough to mobilize and capture the injured God and lock him in a crystal prison cell in a SHIELD base. If Loki had a coin for every time that happened… he’d have two.
He couldn’t say Thor didn’t do anything about it. He could hear the thunders and enraged screams from his brother, demanding for an explanation and Loki’s immediate liberation.
“I demand my brother is released immediately!” Thor yelled.
“You should consider yourself grateful we’re allowing your witches to go and heal that world-level threat! He would be better off dead!”
“Don’t you dare speak of my brother like that! Me and all of my people would’ve died if it wasn’t for him!”
Loki wasn’t sure if he was amused or if he felt bad.
It did stroke his ego being called “Asgard’s hero” in the middle of the yelling. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Nick Fury was just as loud as Thor when angry. He couldn’t complain much. It made it much easier to hear what was going on, which was good, he was too weakened to use his magic to spy on them.
The healers tending to his neck sure seemed awkward overhearing the fight. It must have been uncomfortable to be doing your job in a high security cell. So, he tried entertaining the healers as he could. Although all he got was a lecture when his magic drained his energy, and they needed him awake to monitor him.
Soon he got better, he but wasn’t allowed to be out of his cell. It was a bit nostalgic, in some dark and twisted way. It even made him want to fix his old horned helmet, even if Thor would call him a cow for wearing it.
And when things couldn’t get worse… he met you.
“It’s lunch time” a voice said in a weirdly friendly tone before you head popped by the entrance as you balanced a tray of food on your head in an attempt to amuse Loki. He wondered if there were buffoons in Midgard, but you always tried to draw a laugh from him… Tried.
“Tough crowd, eh?”
Loki couldn’t not be baffled by the way you talked to him. Although he couldn’t decide if that was because you surely knew his reputation as Midgard’s terrorist or because you always talked in a friendly and goofy tone in a maximum-security prison in a super-secret spy agency. You also seemed to be awfully young to be here, but you couldn’t be much older than the girl Barton took as his protégée.
“What’s on the menu today?” Loki asked in a more formal tone.
“Why the hurry?” you asked, “don’t tell me you got somewhere else to be.”
“You think you are a lot funnier than you really are” Loki rolled his eyes. “And it’s not very nice to make fun of someone’s disgrace.”
“I hear you think I’m at least a little bit funny” you smiled as you kept balancing the tray of food on your head.
“Please don’t drop my food, I’d like to have at least something to eat” he rolled his eyes.
You tripped on your feet, and he saw the tray falling down, you caught it last second with your shins, and gave him a little sheepish grin.
“Alright, alright, I’m impressed” Loki groaned. “Can I eat now please? Or is having you torment me part of some attempt to break me?”
“Why are you so moody?” you asked. “More than usual, I mean.”
“I’m starving, and you humans eat way too little” Loki finally admitted. “But that is still better than nothing… Please.”
You stopped playing around and you looked at him as you got the tray into his cell.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you were eating so little.” You admitted.
“I barely have energy to cast small illusions, which would serve to entertain myself.” Loki complained as he sat to eat and you sat by the table and looked at him, you didn’t seem afraid, curious at most. You watched him eat and took his dirty plates by the end.
You weirded him out.
You always did something along the same lines; you came to bring him food, teased him a little and then left when you were gone. Although this time you had asked more questions about him. And you seemed more pensive while he ate.
And later that day he got a surprise. Usually, he just saw you to deal with you while he ate. But today you returned with a brown paper bag on your hands and a backpack, you never carried personal objects with you.
“What now?” he groaned.
You said nothing but opened the door to pass him food and slid the bag inside. Loki opened his end and grabbed the bag, it was warm, and it had a strong smell inside, he reached and pulled out a weird soft cushion with a white cover.
“Bur…ger? What this?” he asked as he read the yellow letters.
“It’s food” you smiled. “Cafeteria is closed until dinner, so I thought bringing you something else might boost your mood.”
“This looks like junk” he snarled, making you laugh.
“It’s something like that.”
Loki looked inside the bag and looked at you.
“There’s no fork.”
“You eat it with your hands” you smiled and pretended to grab a burger and bite it. “Like a sandwich.”
“What’s a sandwich?” Loki asked, making you laugh again.
Loki tried to take a bit, imitating your gesture, but you stopped with a squeaky laugh.
“Unwrap it first!” you laughed. “The white thing paper is not edible.”
Usually Loki would’ve argued more. But he had been really hungry, so he agreed.
“The taste is agreeable enough.”
“Try the fries!” you said eagerly.
“These yellow sticks?” he asked pulling out one fry from the bag, and you giggle once again, he was learning you were quite easy to amuse.
“Yes, the yellow sticks, they’re potatoes with salt and soaked in hot oil to cook them” you smiled.
“That sounds unhealthy” he said, but he surely didn’t pass up the extra meal, and while he’d never admit it, but it was tasty.
“It is on the long run” you agreed. “But you don’t eat these every day. It’s more like… something you eat when you particularly crave it. Like a treat.”
“What’s on your bag?” Loki asked, a lot more agreeable now with a full stomach.
“Ah, you said you didn’t have much to do” you said and passed him bag. “It’s a portable DVD player and old movies.”
“I understood the word portable from that whole sentence” Loki said in an obvious tone.
He wasn’t new to technology, but unlike Earth, Asgard only used technology for practical purposes like travel and fighting. Never for entertainment.
“You can watch recorded over produced plays on the screen” you said adapting to what Loki might be familiar with. “Fury said you can’t have access to internet, so I thought since I don’t use this anymore it’d keep you entertained while Thor negotiates your freedom. And if you need something else, I could surely get it for you.”
Loki was trying to process it all while he followed your instructions to set up the devices you brought him. Now he’d finally give some use to the electricity plugins on his cell.
“Why are you so nice to me?” Loki asked.
“I don’t know” you shrugged. “You seem like you could use some kindness.”
“I’m a charity case?” Loki asked, not sure if he was thankful or offended.
“You wish. If I was charitable, I would’ve brought a fancy brand of fast food, and you’re a good junkyard to bring my old stuff” you snarled, making Loki laugh, for real this time.
Your cheeks flushed and were soon surrounded in a clod of silver mist. And when it disappeared you had vanished already.
Now that… Loki didn’t see coming. He had heard of your kind when he took control of some of SHIELD agents, humans with supernatural abilities. You were a mutant, and for the looks of it, one with teleportation powers. Now it made sense why someone seemingly so ordinary was in a place like this, flirting with a prisoner.
Interesting.
The next few days you kept bringing him food as usual, but two things had changed. One, the portions were bigger now, Loki now got to eat to a point where he was satisfied. Two, you joked around a lot less, in fact, you simply brought the food and stayed nearby in silence, and Loki had caught you staring at him with rosy cheeks.
So, you did fancy him… Truly interesting. And quite flattering too, he at least had to agree you were quite appealing to stare at.
“I watched one of your… Dee Bee Dees…” Loki started the conversation while he ate. “The one with the funny doctor…”
“That… doesn’t narrow it down much” you finally spoke. “Sarcastic asshole with a wounded leg?”
“He is sarcastic, but he treats patients with joy and laughter and goes against the rules. Like the pair of legs at the entrance” Loki specified. “It was a sweet story… I did feel bad for him when he lost his… you know.”
“Ah, yeah…” you said sadly.
For a few more days, the routine kept like that, you seemed a lot shyer than before and now Loki was the one pursuing your attention and with an arsenal of movies you had watched he always had a way to start conversation.
When he was sure he had properly understood your interest in him, he made his move.
While Loki wasn’t as flashy as Thor, he never had much trouble swooning anyone of his interest, with years of etiquette lessons and nourishing his mind with the most exquisite novels and books Asgard had to offer he knew how to charm anyone he desired.
And soon enough he was courting you. He recited for you the collection of the most exquisite verses he had memorized and casted his illusions of roses and butterflies for you to enjoy a romantic set up.
Soon Fury had two people demanding for his liberation. And since Loki had been in his best behavior Fury didn’t have an excuse to keep Loki locked up and while he had a tracker on his ankle and Asgardian magic bracelets capable of suppressing his magic.
You were there when they let Loki out and he made sure to hug you first. The more in love he seemed, the sooner he’d be truly free. You melted against his embrace and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug.
Loki felt a light tug on his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone out of his parents and Thor been so eager and happy to hug him.
“I had been dreaming of this…” you spoke softly. “And your hugs are even cozier than I imagined.”
That felt like a dagger to his heart. Why were you so sweet?
“Alright, Bambi, if you try something your little sweetheart will let us know right away, got it?” Tony warned him.
You wrapped your arms around Loki’s bicep pressing yourself against him.
“He’s gonna be perfect” you defended him. “And if I’m wrong you can lock me up as well for helping a criminal out.”
Second dagger. What kind of idiot were you trusting him so blindly? Could you really not see he just wanted his freedom?
Loki finally had a proper room, or something like that. He would be staying in the Avengers Compound when the Helicarrier landed… until then there was a room where he, Thor, and basically everyone stayed.
Your bed the one right above Loki’s. Loki sighed. Just a few more days. Loki laid down and saw you looking down at him, peeking from your bed with big sparkling eyes.
“Yes?” Loki said in his best sweet loving tone.
“S-Sorry…” you mumbled as your cheeks got red. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”
“Aww, young love…” Kate cooed.
“SHUT UP! I’M OLDER THAN YOU!” you screeched and threw a pillow right at her face, making Loki smiled softly.
“You’re both babies…” Yelena grinned.
“Shut up, you hag!” you and Kate argued.
“You’re all babies…” Bucky corrected.
“DON’T STICK YOUR NOSE, YOU FOSSIL!” the three of you argued.
“I’m… not gonna join this argument being 1,500 years old” Thor laughed and soon eased the mood in all laughter again.
Meanwhile Loki wouldn’t stop thinking what you said to him. “I’m happy you’re here.” Third stab… How could you be so happy and attached to him so easily and quickly?
The next few days he had resigned to adapt to train with you. He had been a warrior all his life, but being a soldier was too boring for him. It was a lot of training, gym workouts, more training, and meetings. He saw you nodding off during the latter. Where did you pull the energy to play and joke around with him when you went to bring food to him while he had been locked up?
You yawned and rested against his shoulder as you dozed off during lunch once. You were so warm and trusted him more than he deserved. You seemed awfully comfortable around him.
Every spare moment you had was dedicated to him, you were awfully cuddly and touchy. Loki wasn’t used to this in the slightest. At first playing along seemed impossible. But your kisses were so gentle and tender, more often than not he found his eyes fluttering close and his hands wrapping around your waist in a loving way. Even sharing a room with a lot of people seemed more fun if he got to study your reactions.
“Take that!” you screamed as you and Kate smacked each other with pillows, but when a stray pillow hit Natasha in the back of the head, it was war.
Everyone was throwing and hitting each other with pillows until someone pushed you to Loki’s arms who had stayed out of the war as just a bystander. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him, but now you were.
Your face was beet red, and you were blabbering apologies if you had hurt him, (which, you hadn’t). But Loki simply smiled and grabbed your sides and started squeezing them, causing you to squeal and burst out laughing.
Oh, of course you were ticklish, he should’ve known. Hel, you irradiated this aura that just screamed “tickle me!” And as the God of Mischief, he was drawn to ticklish little things such as yourself, to make sure he could exploit every ticklish little inch of your giggly body. It had always been a pretty harmless way to ease his need to cause mayhem.
Soon the entire room was in fits of laughter since Loki had unintentionally inspired a tickle war.
“H-Hohohohoney! Pleahahahahase!” you begged Loki, “thahahahahat tickles!”
“So? I hope it doesn’t bother you, my dear” Loki purred in your ear as his fingers traveled up and down your ribs, causing you to screech. “I think I’d like to play with my pretty little toy some more…”
“Nohohohoho! Please! Hehehehehe! S-Stop it!” you giggled until you had proofed to reappear at the top bunk bed, right by the time someone else had surrendered and called truce.
Thor. His stomach was sore from laughing and he needed a break. But the big Asgardian was confident enough to not be affected by being the one to surrender in such harmless play fight.
“I’m nostalgic” Thor laughed. “Reminds me of the sleep overs with Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif.”
“I wouldn’t know, I was never invited.” Loki said.
“WHAT?!” you gasped and threw a pillow at Thor’s head in Loki’s defense. “JERK! TO YOUR OWN BROTHER!”
“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “You rejected us every time.”
“What are you talking about? You never invited me, brother” Loki explained. “By the time I had found out, you were all locked in your chambers.”
“Sif and the guys always said you said no” Thor said. “That’s why I always made smaller sleepovers with just you and me. I thought you hated big groups.”
Loki never thought Thor had been clueless, if anything he thought it had been him who rejected him, it never occurred to him it was the rest that orchestrated Loki’s exclusion. It made sense in retrospect, they were more Thor’s friends, not Loki’s.
“I enjoy time to myself,” Loki agreed. “But I’ve never been against big events. I always thought it was you who didn’t want me near your friends…”
“Of course not, brother…”
“Don’t feel bad, Loki” Yelena said in a tone that eased the mood. “Nat used to have sleepover with friends and ban me from her room the whole night. But we’re sisters, adopted or not.”
“I said I was sorry, and I was 11 you resentful crybaby!” Natasha argued with a laugh.
You noticed that had hit a sensitive spot-on Loki and went to sit behind Loki to give him a hug from behind. And it was unexpectedly comforting, he sighed as you kissed his cheek. Growing more and more used to your doting affection, you were also rather good to read his mood by now.
It just made him feel more guilty, so he tried changing the subject.
“You poof around when tickled, hm?” Loki chuckled. “Noted.”
“Not just when I’m tickled, when I get worked up by almost anything…” you explained. “I can’t always control it.”
“I see… so, I get you all worked up…” Loki flirted, making you jolt and squeak with a red face. “Heh… I’m flattered.”
“What about you?” you asked when you calmed down, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Does something like that happen to you?”
“Mmm… my magic is also very tied to my feelings is mostly surges of magic when I’m pissed off.” Loki shrugged. “In a way, the source of my magic abilities come from my control of how I feel. Which is why Thor could never learn sorcery… he couldn’t ever keep calm and focus enough.”
It felt a bit of a cheap answer, his guilt told him you were always vulnerable with him. There was another thing…
Alright, now that no one was paying attention to you two.
“When I was little, I used to have a lot of nightmares, and my mother stayed with me and taught me this spell… it allows you to invite someone else to your dreams, to put it simply. She taught me that spell to help me with the bad dreams… And sometimes I still cast it involuntarily while I sleep. It’s… what’s the word? Automatic, at this point.”
“You haven’t used it since we met” you pointed out.
“There’s these preventing that” Loki wiggled the magic cuffs on his wrists, and you shrank sheepishly. “Maybe one day I’ll have you sleep visiting… who knows…”
You smiled too eagerly at the idea… it was painful to see the adoration in your eyes.
The next night you were chatting happily, you laid on the floor with your feet hanging on Loki’s bed. Surprisingly he didn’t mind too much, he found himself much more engaged on the conversation. He simply rested his hand on your shin, caressing it with his thumb.
But at some point during the chat his hand brushed by your ankle, something that should’ve caught his attention way sooner. A location tracker like his. He brushed his fingers along the band, and you jolted, quickly making a bad excuse before rushing out. A terrible liar dating the god of lies. How ironic.
“I didn’t know… I thought I was the only one with one of these…” Loki pointed to his tracker.
“All mutants and non-SHIELD affiliated have one” Tony explained with a yawn. “Basically, if you have superpowers, you have two options, be an agent or an avenger.”
“Or locked up” Loki concluded, and the way no one answered, confirming his suspicion.
“You’re gonna be joining us, right, brother?” Thor smiled.
“Do I have a choice?”
Loki chuckled, he had been thinking about this prior to this information, the fear of actually losing his brother when Thor was ready to leave him forever in Sakaar had been too great.
But what about you? You didn’t strike him the superhero style, a were a fragile and sensitive little thing, and he couldn’t picture you in the battlefield, but being a soldier was clearly taking a huge toll on you. You seemed perpetually exhausted living like this.
“Has my darling decided yet?” Loki asked, he didn’t plan on the pet names, but it felt weirdly natural as it rolled off his tongue. It felt right.
“Not before meeting you, we had tried, but I’d say with you two together… things have changed for the better.” Steve assured him. “It’s a relief though, you two would be great assets in the future, and the life at the compound is bit freer and more independent.”
For some reason, Loki smiled at the sound of that.
“It’s gonna be for the best” Bruce smiled. “Fury can be quite severe, and the soldier life isn’t for everyone…”
Loki couldn’t see you long term here, you’d be overworking yourself for a lifestyle too demanding and that you didn’t even like. It would be for the best to be an Avenger… at least that’d give you some more freedom.
By then, the mood had died down and everyone went to bed, turning off the lights way before you arrived. A few more minutes passed… and nothing. Loki considered going to find you when you opened the door, guiding your way with your phone’s flashlight. You had a messy damp ponytail, and baggy pajamas. You arrived and sat by Loki’s bed and immediately collapsed right beside him, invading his bed. He was ready to climb and use yours when you he felt a tug on his shirt.
“Let me stay with you…” you mumbled with your eyes closed, it seemed you still had some consciousness.
Loki nodded and laid down beside you, wrapping his arm over you, and tucking you under the bedsheets. He had to keep appearances. Yeah… Of course.
He studied you for a while. Your hair was soft, and it smelled like wild berries, shampoo he had started using as well because it smelled so nice. Your skin was soft and smooth, it was addictive to trace his fingers along your body. He traced circles along your side.
“Nooo… thahahat tickles…” you giggled and shifted in your half-asleep state, making something stir within Loki. “You can tickle me all you want in the morning, okay baby…?”
“Ohoho! Is that so?” Loki chuckled. “That’s dangerous thing to offer to the God of Mischief don’t you think?”
“’s okay… I trust you…” you yawned snuggling against his chest.
“Y-You do…?”
“You’d never do anything to hurt me…” you assured him, even with your brain fighting with all it’s might to not succumb to exhaustion.
Once his eyes adapted to the darkness, he stared at your face. Your features were gentle, with a pureness that only a heart that hadn’t been corrupted with cruelness and malice would have. It made him feel weak.
“I love you” you mumbled, kissing his lips before finally falling asleep with the most peaceful smile he had ever seen on anyone that was this close to him.
“I… I love you too…” he whispered and kissed the top of your head.
Now Loki genuinely wanted to stab himself through the chest, he deserved nothing less.
The next morning was the last time he’d be in the Helicarrier for a long time if he could help it. Both of you got the trackers removed and he was officially free. The magic cuffs were taken off of Loki and he immediately summoned a huge illusion that had a radius of a few kilometers as he stretched and showed off.
A huge double rainbow, oh how he had missed using his magic like this. He noticed your eyes sparkling in admiration.
Thor helped him unpack and you two were assigned neighbor bedrooms so the lovey dovey couple could stay close. You seemed ecstatic, you set your room and invited him to see it.
It was very much what he expected from you. Cozy and cute, just being inside made him want to lay down on your bed and sleep. And of course you had a pile of stuffed animals. He laid back on your bed, sinking in the mattress and fluffy covers.
Adorable.
“Honey bunny, I’m gonna go to the city alone today… don’t follow me” you warned him and proofed away before reappearing for a second. “And don’t snoop around my stuff! Love ya!”
And you disappeared in a gust of silvery white mist. Loki napped on your bed for a while, but… he couldn’t resist, he was curious by nature. He walked by your desk and saw the mirror of had a bunch of photos of him stuck to the board, he wasn’t smiling in any of them, and most had been taken him by surprise. Loki would’ve thought it weird, but the two of you were dating. And you only did what was normal for someone in a relationship. He smiled softly at how purely infatuated you were.
“Loki!” you called for him, so you had returned. He went to find you.
You had smiled so brightly as you jumped to his arms and showered his face in loving smooches.
“I missed you!” you smiled between kisses.
“You just left an hour or so…” he chuckled.
“It’s still too much time away from you!” you snuggled with him. “I missed this pretty face.”
“Heh…” he chuckled.
“I bought us something.” You smiled and handed him a golden bracelet with a round item on the middle. You kept the silver one. “It’s a distance touch bracelet.”
You touched your bracelet, and he felt his buzzing. Oh. He knew this couldn’t have been cheap. And you still didn’t hesitate to get it for him.
“Now you can feel me close, even if I vanish, or if we can’t be with each other.” You giggled.
His heart fluttered. How could there be someone so overly sweet? To him, of all people.
“Thank you…” he smiled.
Days passed and Loki’s sanity was evaporating in thin air. Guilt was eating him alive.
You were in truly, madly, and hopelessly in love with him. You wanted nothing but the best for him and you always showered him with love, affection and the sweetest kisses he had ever tasted. And worst of it all, he was falling in love with you. He deserved no love from you, but he had it… And it filled his heart with a warmth he didn’t deserve. Oh, you poor lovely thing, if you only knew how cruel his intentions had been to start your relationship.
He did what you wanted now, trying to make up for it. He didn’t want you to feel like you did all the job in a relationship anymore. Soon the photos were more couple y, of kisses and hugs, Loki took photos of you more as well. He invited you to read and nap with him.
He tickled you lots, and making you giggle in his arms as he held you close. He hugged you tight, trying to squeeze in all the love he had develop for the kind soul that had been nothing but sweet to him. In a wordless pray for your forgiveness.
He did everything that occurred to him would make you happy.
“No way! You’re ticklish?!” you gasped with an ear-to-ear grin.
“Terribly so, I can’t stand being ticked in between my ribs” he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, with you sitting on his lap. “My magic acts up on its own if I get overwhelmed, like you.”
“Really?” you giggled and caressed his sides. “Can I try?”
“For a kiss…” he smiled and puckered his lips for a smooch, which you complied with a huge grin. “I adore you… Fine, you got one minute to tickle my ribs.”
“Just one minute?” you whined with that lovely smile of yours.
“Thirty seconds?” he smiled.
“Eh?!” you whined. “One minute!”
“See how convincing I am?” he grinned.
“Oh, you—” you said and turned around to start poking and prodding his ribs, Loki couldn’t help but burst out laughing.
“Ack! Hehehehe!” he whined, you were too good at this, he was laughing his heart out. “S-Stohohohop! Hehehehe! I-It’s been a minute! Hahaha! S-Stop!”
“I’m not done with you, you pretty tease!” you giggled and kept prodding between his ribs.
“Oh yeheheah?!” he laughed and skittered his fingers along your belly.
You were squealing and giggling in the blink of an eye. But you didn’t stop tickling him.
“Hehehehe! Hic! G-Give up!” you giggled and squirmed as you prodded his sides.
“You give up! Hahahahaha!” he giggled squeezed your tummy and skittered his fingers along your armpits.
“Ack! Noohohohoho!” you whine and squeezed above his kneecaps, making him jump and ergo you fell off his lap and onto the couch.
“You’re in trouble…” he grinned and his fingers, poked, drilled, kneaded and scratch over every sensitive spot on your body, and it didn’t matter if you gave up. He didn’t stop until you were breathless.
Only then he stopped and held you in his arms.
“Remind me to not tickle you again, you’re sadistic” you smiled.
“You know it, darling…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Did you have fun?”
“Mhm…” you smiled and leaned against him. “I love you.”
You were beyond ecstatic. You melted under all of his affection and more time he spent with you, the more he couldn’t deny his feelings for you.
He did it everything he could to make you happy. But nothing he did alleviated his guilt. He could only imagine the amount of heartache you would feel if you found out he had only used you to try looking better adjusted and be free, and that he had pretended to fall in love.
He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He was going insane. He walked around the compound like a ghost during the night. He did a stop to throw up in the toilet.
“You’re awake,” you surprised him despite your gentle tone. “Is something bothering you?”
“N-No, love. I just wasn’t feeling very tired.” He assured you. “Don’t worry. Go back to sleep.”
You placed your hands on his hips and leaned closer to him the way you did whenever you were going to kiss him. But you took a little sniff—probably smelling his bad breath—you stopped and smiled at him with kindness.
“Mmm… Insomnia, hm?” you smiled and pulled him to the kitchen. “I know just the cure.”
You heated up water and prepared him a tea with honey. The warmth of the drink ran through him as the sweet drink got rid of the bad taste, and he sighed a tear streaming down his face.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his face.
“I’ve done so many awful things… And…” he spoke softly. “I don’t know how to fix them… I don’t deserve any forgiveness…”
“Oh Loki…” you hugged him. “No one blames you… you didn’t mean it… I’ve seen your pretty heart, and you deserve all the love in the world… Gosh, if I could take all the pain, you’re feeling for myself, I would.”
“Please don’t say that…” he begged. He couldn’t handle anymore guilt, but he didn’t know how to tell you the truth.
You gently guided him to your bedroom and tucked him in your bed, wrapping your arms around him in a protective way.
“Forgive me love... Please forgive me…” he begged between mutters. “I take it all back… please… Please don’t hate me… please…”
“Shh…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s all gonna be okay… I’m always gonna be here for you.”
               Between the warm tea, his exhaustion, the previous sleepless nights, your comfortable bed, and your loving touch… his body gave up on him and he fell asleep.
Everything was dark, and cold, covered in ice and a cruel wind. Loki had a good tolerance to cold, but he was freezing.
“Monster…” a voice echoed so loudly it made Loki’s ears ring. It was his own voice and it came from everywhere around him.
“Traitorous rat…”
“Murderer…”
“Beast…”
“Liar…”
“Frost giant…”
“Monster…”
“Manipulator…”
“Liar…”
“We finally had someone’s trust…”
“Of course, you just play around with others!”
Loki was completely surrounded by copies of himself, all at least twice his size, blue skin, Jotun attire, and eyes red like blood. True frost giants.
Loki simply took every blow and insult. He deserved them.
“Loki…?” a different voice called. “Is this what you meant by inviting someone to your dreams?”
No please… you couldn’t be here.
“Darling… wake up… please don’t be here…” Loki begged you. “Please…”
“I’m not leaving you here on your own…” you spoke and kneeled beside him.
Loki felt his body change, every muscle vanished leaving him as practically skin and bones. Small. Weak.
“Loki… what’s going on?! What’s happening to you?!”
Loki tried to shapeshift back to his natural look, but he had no control of his own body. At this point in life, he should be desensitized to nightmares where his magic didn’t obey him… but…
“Please… leave me here…” he spoke as he could, but he could barely hear himself.
“Don’t say that... What’s… what can I do for you?”
There was something about dreams, and especially Loki’s dreams, that always seemed to be extra dramatic. It must have been so confusing to be in one as an outsider.
Loki’s body changed again, he grew twice his usual size, and his body was blue and muscled. Exactly the body of a Jotun.
“STOP BEING SO GOOD TO ME! CAN’T YOU SEE I DON’T LOVE YOU?!”
“What?!”
What?! No! That wasn’t true…
Loki tried to take it back, but he was in autopilot. He was in the passenger seat of his own mind.
“I DON’T LOVE YOU! ARE YOU THAT GULLIBE TO THINK I’D FALL IN LOVE WITH A MORTAL?! I HAVE BEEN USING YOU!”
“No… no, you're not… You wouldn’t…”
“I JUST NEEDED A COVER, TO SEEM WELL ADJUSTED ENOUGH TO NOT BE A PRISONER! AND YOU WERE ANNOYING ENOUGH TO BARGE IN DEFENSE OF ME! I’V BEEN PLAYING WITH YOU FROM DAY ONE! DON’T YOU SEE YOU ARE JUST A TOY?! YOU’RE PATHETIC!”
The look on your face was heartbreaking. You looked crushed.
“I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF A WAY TO GET RID OF YOU! I CAN’T SLEEP AND I WANT TO THROW UP THINKING I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU YET ANOTHER DAY!”
You curled up on the floor and Loki lifted you but your collar’s shirt.
“GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD! I COULD NEVER LOVE A MORTAL AS UNNERVING AS YOU!” Loki screamed at you before slamming you against the floor.
“NO!” Loki sat up with a gasp and his body drenched in sweat. He looked around and saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing him. “Love?! Thank goodness… I’m so— Love, w-what’s wrong…?”
You were stiff and you had a hand on the back of your head. Loki shifted and stretched a bit and saw your face. Your eyes were full of tears, yet he had never seen you with such a cold expression in your face.
“My love… and what’s wrong?” Loki placed a hand over your arm, and you slapped it.
“Why did you say that?” you asked him.
“I d-don’t know… I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Loki stuttered. “My dreams are like that…”
“No. I mean, what you said was really specific. Why…?”
“I don’t—I don’t know why I—”
“Tell me the truth, Loki.” You ordered him. “Did you, or did you not pretend to love me for your freedom?”
Loki stayed quiet. He didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth, but he didn’t have the heart to keep lying to you. With that confirmation tears started falling down your cheeks again.
“Y-Yes but I—that was before…”
“Get out…” you spoke.
“What? No, darling, listen… I…”
“I don’t want to hear you.”
“Please love… let me explain…” he tried holding you.
That made you snap. You started hitting him, being a human it was impossible for you to harm him, but not once in his life had he felt more pain.
“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TALK TO ME!”
“Darling please…”
“I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND GET OUT OF MY LIFE!”
He had no strength to fight you, he was defenseless as you kicked him out of your room, slamming the door on his face.
There were a few faces popping out of their door to try seeing what had happened and that quickly retreated back to their rooms. Loki had no choice but to go inside of his own bedroom.
The next morning, he nearly tripped on his way out with a box by is door. It was full of books, quills, a coat, photos of you together. And… the silver bracelet that matched his own. It tore his heart to shreds. He didn’t feel as guilty anymore. But remorse and the memory of how brokenhearted you looked was even more sadistic. He heard you crying often from across the wall.
A few days later the others started giving him dirty looks. Knowing you and considering that this didn’t happen right away he assumed they had found out after heavy interrogation and now everyone knew he had used you. Even Thor seemed upset, not angry, but he had this… disappointment in his eyes.
“I hate dealing with moving companies” Tony sighed as they all sat for dinner. “But Fury wants to have our little Houdini enlisted by the end of the week. It’s a shame… The kiddos enjoyed being around each other.”
“Tell me about it” Clint sighed. “Kate is devastated.”
“Speaking of devastated…” Natasha said as she stood up, and Loki would’ve sworn she was shooting daggers at him with that glare. “See if I can be more convincing about eating something, otherwise Fury will have a corpse enlisting.”
You were moving out? To become a SHIELD agent? But you hated being a soldier. Had he hurt you so bad that you preferred that lifestyle and ruin your life forever… than being around him?
This all felt awfully familiar. Loki excused himself and went to his room and lock himself inside. He closed his eyes, and part of him wished that they’d never open again.
“Am I cursed?” Loki asked, choked up by the last bit of hope.
“No.” Odin responded the worst thing he could've said him. A curse would've been better.
Loki placed the casket down, weakly, it suddenly felt like a very... very heavy thing to carry. And the weight stayed there, right on his chest even after the casket had been placed back at the pedestal.
“Then what am I?” Loki asked softly, afraid of the answer.
“You're my son.” Odin answered, and Loki doubted his own magic since he couldn't detect dishonesty in his father's words.
Clearly that was a lie. So why didn’t his magic detect that? Loki felt rage spiral out of control like a boiling pot.
“What more than that?” Loki growled, still trying to keep his composure as he walked towards his father that was by the stairs at the other side of the corridor. “The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”
Odin looked him in the eye. Unable to deny it any longer. It had been to many years with that secret. As Loki walked closer, Odin just started at him in silence as Loki reached the stairs.
“No.” Odin finally said. “In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring— abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”
That felt like a dagger piercing the young prince’s heart. Out of all the things he was insecure about, it turned out he WAS an outsider. Out of all the things he could’ve been, he HAD to be a Jotun, a monster. Out of all the Jotun’s in existence, he was the son of the worst of them all. And out of all the reasons he could’ve been adopted for, was because even his own biological family didn’t want him… and his adopted family never told him any of this.
“Laufey's son...?” Loki finally managed to gasp out, he was choking up on his own tears. “Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?”
“You were an innocent child.” Odin said, sounding more exhausted by the second.
“No!” Loki begged his father, knowing that Odin was a strategic warrior. There was always a meaning behind his actions. “You took me for a purpose, what was it?”
But Odin didn’t answer. The physical toll of delaying his Odin sleep to prepare Thor to rule, preventing a war, the emotional toll of having to banish Thor and now… having his youngest child doubt his love for him because of his foolish decision of not telling him the truth earlier were overwhelming him.
The All-King saw with pain how the little child that once smiled at him with love when he picked him in his arms after the battle now saw him with fear, pain, and resentment.
“TELL ME!” Loki demanded loudly, no longer capable of remaining calm.
“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace... through you.” Odin confessed.
That was the final blow to Loki’s poor heart.
“What…?”
A tool. All he had been adopted for was as an instrument of peace between Asgard and a race that everyone saw as blood-thirsty monsters.
“But those plans no longer matter.” Odin clarified.
“So, I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up… here, until you might have use of me.” Loki inquired in pain.
“Why do you twist my words?” Odin asked softly.
“You could have told me what I was from the beginning.” Loki urged, desperate to makes sense of what easily was the worst day of his life. “Why didn't you?!”
“You are my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.” Odin said softly, in a fruitless attempt to calm his poor child’s heart.
“Wh— B-Because I-I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?!” Loki asked, flooded by all the scary stories about the frost giants growing up. All those times he and Thor played heroes as kids fighting those monsters.
“Don't...” Odin begged as his strength slowly abandoned him.
But Loki couldn’t listen anymore. The grief was too great, and the feeling of betrayal didn’t allow him to trust Odin anymore.
“It all makes sense now! Why you favored Thor all these years.” Loki yelled as he started walking up the stairs to yell at Odin as the All-Father slowly lost his strength and started passing out on the stairs. “Because no matter how much you claim to “love” me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!”
Odin kept trying until his last second of consciousness to beg his son for help, forgiveness… anything. But he had been too weakened to dedicate his young boy some kind of love or reassurance as he fell prey to the Odin sleep, he had delaying for so long.
Now Loki encountered a similar dilemma. He had been stupid, dishonest, and selfish to someone who offered him nothing but unconditional love. He betrayed your trust and there was no way now that Loki could prove that despite his original intentions his love wasn’t any less real.
He laid down on his bed, with his arm draped dramatically over his eyes.
“Troubled, my son?” a voice spoke making Loki sit up.
“Father” Loki smiled softly. “I ruined it. I had the most beautiful love in my life�� and I was stupid and lost it because of my own selfishness.”
“That sounds familiar” Odin chuckled. “You truly are my son, after all.”
“You had always been will always be my father…” Loki said the words he had denied for several years. “I never understand your reasons. Cruel as they were…”
“Not holding back against your old father, hm?” Odin laughed.
“Sorry…” Loki smiled softly.
“My original reasons were foolish, selfish, and even cruel as you rightfully… but I always hoped to do what would be best for the 9 Realms” he spoke. “But that didn’t mean the love I had for you wasn’t any less real. You are my son, regardless of the kind of blood that coursed through your veins.”
Loki smiled softly; it was weird. He knew Odin would have never say all that. But now, after growing up so much, he understood it wasn’t because he didn’t feel it, he had always been too proud and formal, too much of a king. And while imperfect, it was still his father.
“That’s why you never caught me lying when I called you my son or said that I loved you.” Odin spoke. “In my heart, you’ve always been my son.”
“I know, father” Loki smiled. “I’m sorry it took me so long to understand it.”
“I’m sorry I never told you before… I feared you wouldn’t take it well…”
“Me? I would never” Loki joked softly.
“We always loved you as our own” a female voice added making Loki turned around.
“Mother.” Loki spoke breathless. “I know… I know… I knew, I was just too scared I could’ve been wrong, and you didn’t…”
“You were too much of a charming kid not to love you” Frigga said compassionately. “Your little human surely thinks so too.”
Ah… that… Loki wasn’t so sure.
“I ruined it, I deserve nothing but the hatred and disgust I’ve earned from my darling.” Loki huffed out. “I manipulated, lied, and destroyed the trust of my love.”
“Dear, there’s nothing final in these matters…” Frigga smiled softly. “If that loved blossomed once, you may rescue it and nourish it again. But first… you need to apologize.”
“I don’t think I’m wanted anywhere near hearing range.” Loki explained.
“Do you think the love between your mother, and I always had a perfect relationship?” Odin smiled.
“Your father was too temperamental for that” Frigga intervened with a smile and both parents looked at each other with love. “But when you truly love someone and you make a mistake, you swallow your pride and make up for your wrongdoings.”
Loki smiled softly, he remembered it well. When Odin’s temper got the best of him because of the stress of being a king, Odin made sure to make up for Frigga know how truly sorry he was, and Frigga who already knew her husband’s temper was an expert on not letting her affect her, knowing it was never personal. She had truly been blessed with infinite patience given she dealt with three men with bad tempers and yet her kindness and loving nature knew no end. It was not rare to see Odin gifting Frigga fancy gifts and spend long hours apologizing and dedicating the day to her. It wasn’t the perfect arrangement, but no relationship was.
Loki chuckled softly.
“Thanks…” he smiled and both parents tended a hand to him with a smile. “I know what I have to do.”
Ready to say goodbye, Loki placed his hands on top of Odin and Frigga’s, and with that, the figure of his parents faded under a green light as Loki’s palms stopped glowing. Loki let out a little laugh as he wiped his tears.
His illusions had never been so benevolent towards himself, they were either torturous or for a fake sense of gloating and dissociation. But your compassion had changed him forever. He could use them for closure and to guide him with the stuff he knew but needed to hear. And… you deserved that at least.
He got up and went outside and went to a trip. It took him around an hour to get to the city and a couple more hours to get his several stops get several gifts. A lovely white bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, a necklace with a cute silver heart shaped locket and got it printed with a small photo, a copy of a photo he had carried from one of your first “dates” you got where you were giving him a small kiss in the cheek and cupped the other one, a symbol of your shared love.
On his way back, Loki held the original photo close to his chest and sighed. He prayed this would work as he was on his way to see you. He knocked on your door and hid his gifts behind himself, not even remembering he could’ve concealed them with his magic from how nervous he was.
His chest tightened as you opened the door, your eyes and nose were red, and your cheeks were stained with tears. Oh Norns… He had hurt you really bad.
“Love… Please… let me explain” Loki spoke softly.
“What do you need to explain, Loki?” you asked and sniffled, practically murdering him when you called him Loki instead of one of your lovely cheesy pet names. “That I was just a toy for you to play with and pretend that you loved me, so you’d be a free man? I got that quite clearly.”
You were ready to slam the door on his face, but he reached his leg to stop you. He nearly dropped one of your gifts. You looked at him confused, eying him up and down before sighing in defeat, opening the door he walked inside of your little room. He saw the little night table covered with used tissues and the bed’s decorative cushions were all over the place. It broke his heart.
“What do you want, Loki?” you asked tiredly as you sat on the bed, placing a cushion on your lap and against your chest.
“My darling, I was the biggest, most cruel and inconsiderate imbecile of all 9 Realms” he said, kneeling before you as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. You gently placed the flowers on your lap, still looking at him.
“It is true, that I was looking to just find a relationship to pretend I had adapted to living on earth” he spoke. “It was a selfish, shallow, and dishonest reason to make you mine… But I did it. It was heartless and there’s no excuse or reason for you to forgive that. But I beg of you to stay here… never speak to me again if you need, but don’t settle to a life of misery just to avoid me. I will happily accept being locked up in a dungeon for a hundred years, so you don’t see the likes of me again…”
He handed you the chocolate, and your gaze softened for a second as you saw the chocolate, he remembered which ones you liked the most. You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle squeeze to your hands let you know Loki still wanted to speak.
He had caused all of this for not telling you the truth, and now he wanted to fully bare his soul to you now.
“You offered me boundless kindness, patience despite my flaws, understanding to my pain and sins of the past, laughter like I hadn’t enjoyed before, you fed with the most delicious and warm foods I had ever eaten, you showed me the concept of dates and you bared me completely vulnerable to your touch and heart and you bared yourself completely to me without fear of me…” Loki continued, as tears streamed down his face, drowning in regret. “And all I did was play with you and betray the trust your selfless heart gave me without asking for anything in return.”
He placed his forehead on your knees and sobbed, completely ashamed of what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he felt like he’d die without you. And he’ deserve it.
“I don’t care” you finally spoke, and he looked up, he saw the tears streaming down your face. “You’re the God of Mischief and Lies, there are countless stories of how you lied and manipulated to get away with anything you wanted… I should’ve expected I’d be just that.”
“No— No, darling!” Loki held your hands and pressed his lips against your knuckles. “No, my sweet, you— I was selfish. I wanted a cover up, yes, but what I found was love, I found the butterflies in my stomach you always speak of. I found the warm of your hands lingering on my skin after our dates. I found myself awake during the night sighing over those lovely eyes I’ve now so cruelly filled with tears…” Loki spoke softly.
You were shaking in your place as you did your best not to cry and interrupt him. He brushed his finger along your cheek as in appreciation of your effort.
“None of what you heard that night was true in my heart…” he assured you “I never felt so disgusted I wanted to vomit; it was guilt that was killing me from the inside… knowing I was hurting such a beautiful flower.”
He handed you the heart locket and you opened it, seeing the photo made you sob as silently as you could.
“I was selfish and a liar. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me and want nothing to do with me again. But please know that my heart beats for and because of you only.” He spoke. “I fell hopelessly and irredeemably in love with you. I swear that on my life.”
You looked at him and smiled, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed now freely and unrestrained. Time seemed to stop for Loki as he hugged you back, taking in your scent and caressing you. Tears fell down his face and he held you, afraid you’d disappear if he let go of you.
You forgave him. He didn’t think he’d ever be so lucky to find a kind soul that would forgive even his worst mistake. But he found it, you were kind enough to do so. Your wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and Loki was able to let all the pain and guilt go… He couldn’t undo his mistakes, but he could be better, and he wanted to be his best self for you.
“Thank you… Norns, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he repeated over and over between whispers and tears as he held you tight.
You sat up straight and cupped his face and laughed softly as you still cried happy tears.
“You’re gonna have to buy me a new box of tissues, you booger” you joked softly with a sniffle, and pressed your forehead to his and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose.
“I’ll give you the entire world if you so desire, my love” he spoke with a gentle smile. “Just say the word.”
“I don’t need the world” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”
“What did I do to deserve you?” he chuckled softly as he grabbed a tissue to wipe his tears and blow his nose. “I’m a disaster and somehow I still found the most precious little dove all for myself.”
You held him tightly in a hug… in silence for a few minutes before you spoke again.
“Did you think I was annoying when we first met?” you asked with a stern look on your face. “I want the truth.”
“Truthfully… you were a nightmare…” Loki admitted in a soft playful tone.
“HEY!” you whined and dug your fingers into the crevices of his ribs making him burst out laughing. “I said honest, not mean!”
“Ehehehe! Lohohohohove, let me finish!” he giggled, letting you have this, it was the least he could do. “P-Please, s-stohohohop that! Not there!”
You smiled and went to tickle his belly. Oh, you had really not liked that.
“Plehehehehehease, dahahaharling! I surrender!” he laughed and did his best to not squirm.
“Fine… what is it?” you asked, as you sat sideways on his lap, already happily cuddling with him.
Thank whatever superior force that was out there… Oh, you’re a wonderful blessing.
“You’re a nightmare turned into a dream” he clarified and he didn’t even bother fighting the urge to squeeze you tightly.
“You have 3 seconds to explain how that’s a compliment o I’ll tickle you until you puncture a lung.”
“Ihihi— I mean like, when you start having a bad dream… but it turns around as the most wonderful of dreams, those that you still think about after waking up.” Loki said, and as those words he was sure he had fried his brain because he didn’t make any sense.
But that was enough for you.
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled.
“C’mon… don’t be mad at me for being foolish and wrong” he smiled as he squeezed you tight. “Surely you thought I was insufferable at first as well, we’re so different after all.”
You smiled and shook your head.
“I love my pretty prince” you smiled and picked a tissue yourself to clean your face. “Flaws, differences, and all.”
“Do you, now?” he grinned cheekily. “I sure am a lucky one to be called yours.”
“A Loki one” you giggled, and Loki made a scowl of disgust. “Sorry! I thought it too late when I said it and— hehehe!”
“Oh, that was awful— C’mere… you!”
“W-What?! NO! NOHOHOHOHO! LOHOHOHOKI, STOP IHIHIHIT!”
As he made you laugh and held you against him, he couldn’t doubt how fortunate he was to be so undoubtedly yours.
| MASTERPOST |
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