#and the next day she was blanking us in the hallways

[i-am-baechu]

Summary: Everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Y/N and Jungkook love each other but when familiar and new faces come into their lives, things get complicated. On top of that, a surprise that truly shakes their plans for the future. Will their relationship push forward or will Jungkook lose his fangirl once and for all?

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Thirty: The World Of Being An Idol

→ Genre: Idol au, established relationships, girl group stan au, social media au, K-pop fan page au, romance, angst, comedy, and smut

→ Main pairing: Idol! Jungkook x Fan girl! Reader 

→ Side ships: Yoongi x OC & Jin x OC

→ Warnings: Explicit language, smut, mature themes, alcohol usage, anxiety disorder, stalking, and obsessive behavior

⇜ Masterlist ⇝

Y/N stared at her phone and sighed. She tossed it on the bed as she sat on the edge with a worried face. Today was the interview and she knew it needed to be done but now that the day has come, it's scary. The whole world knows about her and they keep asking about her. She saw the tweets that were accusing her of using Jungkook to meet the girl groups she loved and how she wasn’t in love with him. She knows the truth and that's all that matters but it still made her feel so small. Jungkook opened the door and frowned when he saw her looking at the floor with a blank expression. He slowly walked up to her and sat next to her. She looked up and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Are you okay, babe?” 

“I’m not sure. I think I’m just nervous....I saw what people were saying about me.”

He glanced at her phone and then back at her, “Don’t listen to them. They don’t know about us.” 

“I know...it just hurts.” 

“Ignore them. I know it's easier said than done but I’ll be here for you.” 

She looked up at him and nodded his head, “Do you think they will accept me?” 

“The real fans will. I love you and only you. If they support me then they will love you. If not for you, I wouldn’t sing and if not for you, I would be in hell. You’re my ending and my beginning. My wife. We will get through this together, no matter what.” 

He pushed some hair away from her forehead as she let a tear escape, “I love you, Jeongguk.”

“I love you, Y/N. Let’s go before it gets darker.”

“Okay.” 

She stood up and glanced at the mirror with a worried look. She looked at Jungkook with a frown, “Is this okay?” She was wearing a simple black dress that showed off her shoulder and around her neck was the necklace that Jungkook gifted her for Christmas. She looked beautiful in his eyes.

Of course, he was matching her and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “You look perfect.” 

“Do I?” 

“Always.” 

The car ride there happened so fast that Y/N couldn’t even process anything. She didn’t even realize she was at Bighit’s building until Jungkook rubbed her thigh, “Babe, we're here.” 

She looked away from the window and nodded her head, “Okay...we’re not doing pictures right? Like no photoshoot?” 

“No, photoshoot. It’s just going to be us talking. It’s going to be a video but it's not going to show your face and in the magazine we have. That’s it.” 

“Is my face going to blur out?” 

“It’s just going to be our voices like how you wanted. Don’t worry I made sure they followed your requests. No surprises.” 

She nodded her head and leaned forward placing a quick kiss on his lips, “Okay, thank you for everything.” 

“Anything for you babe.” 

The hallways were quiet and the only sound that was heard was their shoes echoing. She held onto Jungkook’s arm tight as they made their way. They stood in front of the door and he glanced down at her, “Are you ready?” 

“Yeah...are you? You're going to get asked so many questions now because of me.” 

He shrugged his shoulders and leaned down placing a kiss on her forehead, “I’m okay with that. I can talk about my wife to the whole world.” 

“Are you going to tell them that-”

“Yeah, I'm not hiding anymore.” 

The door opened and one of the Bighit staff smiled at them, “Are you guys ready?” 

“Yes.” They both answered at the same time causing them to look at each other with a smile. They walked into the room and her nerves disappeared when she saw the room semi empty. It made her feel better. They sat down as Jungkook placed his hand on top of hers, rubbing her knuckles gently. 

The interviewer smiled at them as he settled in, “Hello, my name is Park Minho and I will be doing this interview. Thank you for trusting me to do this interview.” 

Jungkook smiled at him and nodded his head, “Thank you for coming.” 

Y/N smiled and looked down at the table, “Thank you for taking the time out to do this.”

Minho smiled at them and took out the equipment. She placed the headphones on her ears as she looked at Jungkook who was giving her an encouraging smile. Minho opened his notebook and rubbed his hands together, “Alright, my name is Park Minho and I’m happy to say I am interviewing Jungkook and Y/N. Y/N, this is your first time coming forward and I’m sure it was scary for you. How is everything settling in?” 

She swallowed some spit and moved forward to the microphone, “I-It was nerve-wracking. I’m just a normal person and there’s nothing really special about me.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and leaned forward, “She’s extraordinary.” 

“Jungkook...stop.” 

Minho let out a small laugh, “You guys have been together for a couple of years now. How would you explain your love story?” 

Jungkook glanced at Y/N with a soft smile, “Fate. Meeting her changed my life and I’m so faithful that I met her. She’s the greatest thing that has happened to me.” 

Y/N felt her face get hot and she nodded her head, “I would say fate too. Honestly, it was meant to be because I got his photocard...I remember it like it was yesterday.”

“No one introduced you two? You guys just met by accident?” 

“Yeah, I was shocked when I met him. I was extremely shy and I kept to myself. He actually came up to me.”

Jungkook let out a laugh and nodded his head, “I was curious about her. She was so shy that I had to try to talk to her. Even if she pushed me away, I wanted to try at least.”

“You were determined, weren’t you?” 

“Of course I was. I heard bells the moment I saw her.” 

“Kook, stop.” 

Minho turned the page and glanced at Y/N, “In your note that you posted, you mentioned that you've been through a roller coaster. If you're comfortable enough, can you touch on that?” 

She nodded her head and looked over at Jungkook who gave her a small smile. She glanced at Minho with a frown, “I saw the rumors on Twitter. It actually made me sick because some of the things were true and it was scary to see that someone knew it that wasn’t in my inner circle. On top of the rumors, I was getting stalked and harassed in my real life. It was too much and...I had to go back to my mom in America. I never felt so...scared.” 

“I would be scared if someone knew things about me. I’m sorry you went through that. Is this the main reason why you wanted to come forward?” 

“Yes...I had to be one step ahead of them somehow. I also wanted everyone to know that I love Jungkook with all my heart and I’m not hiding anymore...well hiding my face because I’m not ready for my face to be known. Still nervous about people.” 

Minho nodded his head and glanced at Jungkook, “I saw that you posted on Weverse about everything. Did you feel good to post about it?”

“It felt good to let everyone know that I won’t stay quiet on this matter. When it comes to Y/N’s safety, I will do anything. It was a big moment for us.” 

“I saw that you kept talking about your future. What are your plans for the future?” 

The couple glanced at each other and Y/N nodded her head. Jungkook turned towards Minho with a wide grin, “Y/N, is my fiance. We’re planning on getting married.” 

“Oh wow!? Congrats! Is this the first time you're announcing it?” 

Y/N glanced down at her ring and nodded her head, “Yeah...it’s kind of crazy to do it where the whole world can know it. It felt nice to be so open now.”

The rest of the interview was really easy and it felt second nature for the couple. When everything was done, Y/N was mentally tired. Jungkook smiled down at her, who was leaning her head against his arm. They were on the roof of the building wanting fresh air before heading home. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling okay. It feels weird to have everyone know that I’m your fiance.” 

“They need to know. I’m so proud of you.”

She glanced up at him and smiled, “I couldn’t do without your strength.” 

“Can I take a picture?” 

She raised her eyebrow, “For what?”

“I just wanted to show us off and after that interview, I want to show everyone my love for you.” 

She rolled her eyes, “They’re going to be sick at the way you talk.”

“I love you and I don’t care. Just one picture.”

“Fine. After that, can we go home? I miss Bam.”

Jungkook set his phone up and glanced at her with a small glare, “Your fiance is right here but you miss him?”

“I miss our son...I also want cuddles with soba.” 

“Whatever my wife wants. Now picture.” 

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Tag List:

@agustdpeach @mdavt @aloverga @drissteele @xngelsau

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #bts jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fanfction #bts fic #bts social media au #his fan girl

[traveler-at-heart]

Secrets

Summary: You try to keep your relationship a secret!

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!R

It was fun at first.

The thrill of sneaking around, secret glances, hidden touches. It had been quite a ride to get to where you were with Natasha, and knowing how the team could be, you both wanted to keep your relationship to yourselves, at least for a little while.

One of your secret spots were the stairs. With a building so big, it was natural that everyone took the elevator. It was the perfect place to meet the redhead and more often than not, the conversation progressed into an intense make out session that left you breathless.

“Is the elevator broken?” Steve asks as you come back from one of your little escapades. You jump at his presence, your mind still thinking about the feeling of Natasha’s lips on yours.

“Uh… no. It’s working just fine. I like to take the stairs to… exercise”

“That’s a nice idea. Maybe I’ll try it one of these days” he nods.

Cap and his obliviousness, sweet old man. He has no idea you’re all flushed for reasons that have nothing to do with coming up the steps.

Still, you think nothing of it. He was probably trying to be nice when he said it was a good idea. The next day, when you’re lost in Natasha, intoxicated by her supple lips and the way they move against your own, you miss the sound of heavy footsteps and an off key whistle.

“Crap” Natasha is the first to react, breaking apart. You turn to look down, Steve taking the steps two at a time.

Fit bastard.

“Morning!” he says, too happy for your liking.

“Oh, hi, we were just…”

“We?” he echoes, and you look around. No trace of Natasha.

“I mean, me. I was just taking a break. I think I’ll go back to taking the elevator”

“You sure you’re ok?”

“Yeah, just a bit agitated. Nothing to worry, Cap”

Steve nods and smiles.

“I told everyone about your great idea. I think people will start using the stairs more”

“Oh, that’s just peachy”

Once again, he is oblivious to your actual feelings. After he’s gone, Natasha jumps from behind the staircase.

“Jesus, how did you manage to do that so quickly”

“Well, you always have to be ready for a quick escape, detka”

Natasha leans forward and pecks your lips, but before she can do anything else, you drag her back to the hallway.

“You heard Cap. Our secret spot is no longer secret”

—

So far, you haven’t found a decent replacement for the stairs, except for a supply closet. And by God, you are not that desperate.

As you cook dinner, Natasha comes up behind you, and you relax against her.

“I’ve missed you” she says against your shoulder, placing small kisses that tickle you.

“I missed you too, love”

A hand goes around your middle and she toys with the hem of your shirt, lips kissing your neck, and that sweet spot behind your earlobe that makes you shiver.

“Nat” you moan, and you don’t know if you want her to stop or keep going.

Yelena answers that for you as she steps inside, eyes widening. You draw blank, because honestly, how can you explain this?

Natasha takes matters into her own hands, literally, as she hugs you and pretends to do the Heimlich maneuver.

“She’s choking” Natasha says and Yelena scrambles around.

“Oh, my God, Y/N, please don’t die”

The redhead pretends to help you, squeezing your middle and you cough.

“I think I’m…”

Unfortunately, the blonde is too freaked out and pushes Natasha away, thinking she’s helping you.

As she presses against your sternum, you are suddenly out of breath and you swear you can feel your ribs cracking.

“Ok, I’m fine, Yelena, thanks” you break free of her hold, sure that your sides will be bruised next morning.

Yelena doesn’t let you cook anymore, so you end up with a dinner of mac and cheese, and Natasha’s sister sitting in the middle while you three watch tv.

“I’m sorry” Natasha says when her sister gets up to grab another soda.

“Just for the record, this isn’t the type of choking I had in mind”

—

“They’re gonna be here any minute” you say against Natasha’s shoulder.

“I know” she bites your neck and you sink further into her lap.

The Quinjet, out of all places is where you find some privacy. The rest of the team will join shortly, as you have a recon mission.

But you can’t keep your hands to yourself and you end up naked, straddling Natasha’s lap as she moves her fingers inside of you.

“God, you look so pretty like this” she says against your chest.

“Nat, more” you plead. It’s too much and too little at the same time. She listens, moving her hand faster and your hips match her pace.

“God. Yes” you collapse in her arms.

“Request to open gate” FRIDAY informs and you curse, because you want more than a second to catch your breath.

Sneaking around is getting old now.

“Come on, let’s get cleaned up” Natasha says, helping you up. She looks proud when your legs shake.

“Shut up” you say, which only makes her smile wider.

While the team enters the Quinjet, you go back to the bathroom with Nat as you hurriedly put your suits on.

“Red? Y/N?” Tony calls for you.

“Here” you raise your arm, feeling a bit tense. Maybe you pulled a muscle.

Stark nods your way and starts the Quinjet, while Steve goes over the plan with everyone else. You stay seated, vaguely aware that something feels different but you can’t tell what it is.

“Be careful” Natasha says when you part ways, squeezing your hand.

Your job is to keep an eye on the guards at the south gate and stop them if they are called to attack the intel team.

Which unfortunately does happen, so you run to shoot, kick and punch at every one of them.

There are two guards left, and as you reach for your gun, something incredibly unexpected happens.

Your suit opens right in the front, revealing your red lacy bra.

“What the fuck” you shout, looking down.

The guard in front of you opens his mouth, completely enthranced by your cleavage.

“New strategy?” Tony flies over, knocking him down. He sends the last man standing across the room.

“No! I don’t know what happened!”

You try to cover but the leather is not giving in.

“Ok, well. We’re done here so you can put all that” he gestures to your chest. “Back in the Quinjet”

Rolling your eyes, and with your arms crossed in front of you, you walk back to the jet.

As you lock eyes with Natasha, you finally notice how her own suit is loose on the shoulders.

You switched when you were getting dressed.

“I like this new look” Sam wiggles his eyebrows and Natasha sends a widow bite straight to his ass.

“Oops” she shrugs her shoulders as he glares.

Feeling a little better after that, you go inside and find a t-shirt to cover up.

When you leave the bathroom, everyone is silent.

“Ok, it’s not like you all haven’t seen boobs before. So get over yourselves. Except Steve, he gets a pass” you bark at them.

“I’ve seen boobs before” he tries to say but no one pays attention.

Natasha stays silent and you think she might be upset or reconsidering this whole thing.

You expect the worse as you land and she leads you back to your room.

“Nat…”

The redhead holds her finger up, taking your shirt off and sinking her face in your breasts.

“Really?”

“Mine” she grumbles, her hands squeezing possessively.

Well, at least some good came out of it.

—

The atmosphere is tense.

Clint, Wanda, Peter and you are playing Jenga.

Honestly, you are the one at a disadvantage here. With Clint’s aim and the enhanced individuals, you don’t stand a chance.

The way Natasha looks at you from across the room doesn’t help either.

It’s been a few days since you were together. Fury called her for an urgent mission and you had to resist the urge to sneak into the Quinjet and beg her to fuck you against the console.

And now, she’s back and you can’t wait for the night to wrap up so you can wrap your legs around her while she eats your…

“Gah!” Wanda screeches, knocking over the tower. “My mind, my eyes”

Crap.

“Wanda, a word?” you plead, dragging her out of the living room while Clint and Peter stare.

“You” she slaps your arm. “And you” she glares at Natasha as she approaches, pushing you both to her room.

“Sorry, we are keeping it a secret for now”

“But your thoughts are so loud” she massages her temples, clearly distraught. “I was so focused on the game and still I could hear everything, see everything”

“Sorry” you grimace. “Do you think you could… not tell anyone? For a bit”

“Oh, trust me, I’m very eager to pretend none of this happened”

“Thanks, Wanda” Natasha says and the girl nods.

“It’s nice to see you both happy. Just try to keep your thoughts to yourselves”

“We’ll try”

Wanda nods, walking out. Natasha’s quick to push you against the wall, eyes darkened by lust.

“Wanna tell me what was on your mind?”

“Can you at least wait for me to leave the hallway?!” Wanda screams from outside.

“You have ten seconds, Maximoff”

“Thanks, I hate you”

—

You figure a little distance from everyone will do you good.

So, you get tickets to a Yankees game and spend the day in the city with Natasha.

Even if you are only a half hour away from the Compound, among the sea of people, no one looks at you when you hold her hand, or share a kiss in the middle of your walk.

“This is nice” you smile, bringing her hand to your lips.

The first half of the game is slow, but you enjoy the time eating popcorn and making comments with Natasha about the score.

During the break, several people in the audience are featured in the screens. A girl chugs an entire beer while the crowd goes wild.

“Damn” you laugh, but the next image you see is you, next to Natasha.

The kiss cam.

“No, we’re fine” you wave your arms and the crowd boos. “Ok, not nice!”

“Don’t be such a baby” she smiles, pulling you closer.

“Pretty sure Steve and Bucky are watching the game back home”

“You jump, I jump” she leans forward, allowing you to decide if you wanna do this or not. As your lips meet in a short kiss, everyone starts clapping and cheering you on.

“Are you sure about what we just did?”

“Very. I’m tired of hiding. You make me happy. What’s wrong with that?” Natasha says and you smile against her lips.

“You are so getting lucky tonight”

But before you can kiss her again, both of your phones go crazy with texts from everyone on the team.

Tony: Is this why Wanda asked me for a way to erase her memory?

Sam: Now I know why you electrocuted my ass, Red!

Wanda: DONT COME NEAR ME

“Still think we made the right call?” you roll your eyes as the texts keep coming.

“Absolutely, detka” she says before kissing you softly.

Yeah. It’s gonna be ok.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff fluff

[byunpum]

They caught us

Pairing: Neteyam x human reader

Tags: fluff, cuddling, teasing, crushes, playful biting, lots of kisses

Warning: light teasing, some smut 18+, the characters have 20's

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3 | Part 4

It was a peaceful day at the camp in the mountains. You had been doing your daily task all day, helping Norm with various tests he had to do for his new investigations. You were also helping Jake with the new tracking maps that Norm had given him. Technology was not his thing, that's why he was always looking for his "favorite daughter-in-law", jake joked with that line. According to him, neteyam and you spent all their time together. Neytiri always tapped him on the arm or gave him a blank stare. You didn't have a bad relationship with Neytiri, she always trusted you. She never said anything when you and neteyam would go for a walk, spend time together, even if there were shows of affection between the two of you. It never bothered her, but when someone hinted that you and neteyam might be a couple, you could see her disapproving face.

You didn't get to see any of the boys during the day, you only knew that loak, spider and neteyam were out for a ride, because tuk told you about it. And since you had already finished all your homework, you decided to go to the lab, to see what you could do there, until it was time for dinner. You went in and noticed that there was no one there, norm and max had gone out to do god knows where. As there was no one there, you decided to go to your room. You could go to it, through a door that connected to the lab. It was a hallway, with doors and one of them was your room. You go in…and literally take off your clothes, leaving you with only an oversized shirt and a pair of panties. You lay face down on your bed, watching an old movie on the tablet that Norm had given you for your birthday.

An hour passed, you were so into the movie, until the door to your room opened. Neteyam's head popped in the door, he didn't want to make any noise. He saw that you were in bed and decided to come in. He had keys to your room, actually he was the only one who had them. And it was for good reasons, the first was that if something happened he could come to look for you, the second was because it was easier to meet you at night. He came in quietly, listening as you were singing softly, the song you heard in the movie. He moved in behind you and let himself fall down.

You screamed in fear and tried to turn around. But you calmed down when you heard his laughter. "What are you doing? Let go of me!!!" you complained as you tried to turn around. But it was almost impossible, neteyam was heavier than you and not to mention that he was twice your size. You swear he was more muscular. "mmm I don't want to, I want to stay here. On top of you mmm" says neteyam as he hugs you more and relaxes his body on top of yours. "come on, let me get comfortable…and I'll let you hug me all you want." You moan. He lifts up a little on his elbows, leaving a little space between you and him. You settle down so that you are on your back, he settles back on top of you. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his sides, just above his waist. "Mmm you smell good" says neteyam with his head buried in your neck. "I've been outside all day, I must not smell good" you speak, stroking her hair, and tracing your fingers through his queue. Making him purr. "oh no, honey…your smell is wonderful" you can feel, as he gives several wet kisses. As he gets closer, his hands were embracing you completely. You could feel him exploring your whole body.

Neteyam had become a little more needy in the last few months, and you knew it. He was touching you more than usual. If you were next to him, he would brush his hands over your hips. Or he would move closer to your neck so he could smell your scent. He would stare at you longer, and you could sense that his gaze was not at all innocent. "Nete… what's wrong with you?" you ask him with a little smile, placing your hands on the sides of his face, making him look up at you. Neteyam looks at you, to get close to your face and kiss you. "I love you" says Neteyam, between kisses. Some on your lips and others on your eyes. "I love you too" you laugh, his lips tickle you. Neteyam sits on the bed, and grabs the back of your thigh, to get more comfortable. "I want you…" Neteyam already had his hands down your shirt. " but… you said you didn't want to hurt me" your voice was cut off, as neteyam's fingers rubbed the sides of your stomach, while he kissed your neck. He was pressing himself harder against you. You reached back to kiss him again.

You started to lift your hips to try to find some friction, neteyam noticed this movement and started to imitate your movements. You moaned a little, it felt so good. Your shirt was already halfway down your body, and he was still placing sloppy kisses here and there. He lifted himself up on top of you, to get more comfortable. "Did you close the door?" you ask him, as you run your hands over his stomach. "Yes, yes" he spoke a bit excited, you glanced down at his loincloth and you could already see his growing erection. Neteyam looked at you, and gave you a cheeky grin. As he settled on top of you again. "Do I get another kiss?" asks Neteyam as he starts kissing you. You laugh into the kiss.

"Y/N has to be in his room" says norm, as he is escorted by jake and neytiri down the hallway on the way to your room. Jake had been having trouble with the maps and was looking for you to help him again. "this place is horrible," says neytiri walking next to jake. "there are worse places." norm laughs, as she guides him to your room.

The situation had already escalated, the only noise you could hear in the room was the moaning of both of them. Neteyam was already on his way to your panties, his hand stopped on the edge of them, playing a little. " you know… I hate this thing" he says as he continues kissing neck. " Well, if you want you can take it off" you flirt with him a little bit, pinking your nose against his. While neteyam trails under your panties, brushing his fingers on your little nub. You moan softly, stealing a kiss from him. "mmm don't tease me" you speak, not noticing your bedroom door opening.

You were so entertained between the two of you, you didn't notice the door open. Norm stood in front of Jake and Neytiri. The three of you were silent. No words came out of their mouths, they were in a state of shock. Neteyam was on top of you, your shirt was up, neteyam was kissing you, and they could see where neteyam's hand was. Jake's face changed and so did Norm's. "NETEYAM!!!" neytiri yelled. You two opened your eyes. And tried to get settled as fast as you could. "What's going on here?" neytiri shouted. "It's so obvious!!!" says Jake, making Neytiri look at him, and he changes his gaze. "Mom, I can explain," says Neteyam, sitting on your bed.

You didn't know what to say, you were adjusting your shirt. The situation in itself was embarrassing. "Why-why don't we just let them…. We'll be waiting for you in the lab," says Norm, pushing everyone out of your room. Neytiri was still screaming, while Jake dragged her with him. You two stood there, silent. Until neteyam started laughing.

"Your mother will murder me!!!" you say, and throw yourself backwards on your bed. Neteyam laughs, and lies down next to you. He moves, to bite your ear. "Hey …. are you calm because nothing is going to happen to you" you say. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you" says neteyam lying on top of you again. "Neteyam! They are waiting for us!!!" you moan, as you play along. "Then let them wait".

#avatar the way of water #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #neteyam sully #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x mate reader #neteyam imagine #human reader #human y/n #female y/n #quaritch x human reader #miles quaritch x reader #recom quaritch #spider x reader #spider socorro #jake sully x reader #kiri x reader #loak x reader #neytiri x reader #neytiri x human reader

[vhsgoghs]

lost you (Simon Riley one shot)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x female reader

Summary: Simon was injured during a mission and confesses to his girlfriend what he has been thinking. word count: 990 note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here ★ spanish ver on wattpad (vhsgoghs)

She knew it would happen one day, but there was a part of her that thought it was really just her paranoia.

When someone interrupted her at the shooting range, it didn't seem unusual to her. She knew something was wrong when the other girl's face reflected total concern, but mostly nerves, she lowered her weapon when she felt tension in her muscles and looked at the girl in confusion.

The words that came out of her mouth managed to break her completely: Simon had been hurt.

She felt her ears close to any other words and barely heard clearly the last thing the girl had said to her.

She ran through the hallways without caring that her vision was blurry, she swore she had bumped into someone, but she didn't pay attention. Her mind had been blocked, no words coming out of her mouth when she reached the infirmary, but since it was a small base, everyone knew each other and the nurse knew perfectly well the reason for her presence.

"He's fine." The nurse spoke in a soft voice in an attempt to calm her down, but (Y/N)'s hands were still shaking.

"Where?"

"Come on, I'll take you to him."

She nodded and let the nurse guide her to one of the rooms in the infirmary. She tried mentally prepare herself to see Simon hurt, regardless of whether it was a small wound or something more, however, that attempt was useless.

When the nurse opened the door for her, she felt her world collapse for the second time.

Simon was there, on the stretcher with his shoulder and part of his chest bandaged. He seemed sleepy or maybe he was already asleep, but her mind was not concentrating enough at that time, the nurse didn't say anything, she knew that she was a nuisance there, so she withdrew slowly to leave them alone.

When (Y/N) approached him, she knew he wasn't asleep because of the slight way he moved, she sighed with a mixture of relief, but still felt the heaviness in her chest.

"Someone told me that you put yourself in the middle of a bullet" she murmured as Simon half-opened his eyes. He wanted to smile, but he still didn't feel strength in his body. "You're an Idiot." And although he didn't have enough strength, he let out a giggle that made her heart feel warm.

For a second, she thought she would never hear those little laughs he used to let out every time they talked.

"I'm sorry." he murmured. He closed his eyes again; he felt that he had put in too much effort in the last few minutes and the medications really weren't that strong.

(Y/N) sighed and took a seat next to him. Her hands slid gently down his torso until they reached one of his hands, she squeezed it tightly in hers and tried her best not to cry.

He was fine, he was there. The man she loved the most and had been her boyfriend for years was fine. She always knew that he could get hurt at any moment, it could happen to her too and it was something they both had to deal with every day.

"You look terrible," she joked, causing a muffled laugh to leave Simon's lips once again.

"It's what you want to hear from your girlfriend after getting shot."

She smiled slightly and knew she had done a good job of trying to cheer him up a little, even in her worst moments, it was something they always did.

She sighed and brought his hand to her lips, brushing his warm skin. Simon was warm even in that state, (Y/N) hated silence, yet her mind was blank, what could they talk about? She didn't want to make him feel bad by talking about how much she worried about his condition, she knew that would make him feel worse.

Then, something came to her mind… Happy memories. Simon had always told her that if something like this happened, he wanted to hear her talk about happy memories, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and sighed.

"Do you remember our first date?" she murmured and it only took a few seconds for Simon to nod. "When I said yes, you turned to leave and fell on the floor."

They both laughed. Simon's laugh had been so slow and muffled that she couldn't feel bad, she hated seeing him that way, the thought that her boyfriend could end up hurt had always been there, she never thought it could come true.

"I was happy." He smiled. (Y/N) nodded, it had been an exceptional moment and every time she had the chance, she mentions it.

She remained silent, she couldn't stop thinking about the pain he must be feeling at that moment, she wanted to continue talking about their dates, about what they had experienced, but she felt a knot in her throat. Her boyfriend's body had relaxed and she assumed the medications had finally taken effect.

"I'm so sorry."

Simon opened his eyes again, he was dazed, but her presence made him feel comforted, her hands around his were enough to know he would be okay.

Why did she keep apologizing if she hadn't done anything?

"Hey, come here." He shifted gently, trying to ignore the pain of his wound, making enough room for both of them.

She shook her head and let go of his hand. She knew him too well to know that he was just trying not to think about the pain, she didn't want to hurt him even more.

"I'm going to hurt you and…" Simon cut her off.

"I'll be fine, this arm it's okay."

(Y/N) thought about it for several seconds. She knew that at any moment the nurse would return and she would have to go back to the barracks because, no matter how much she was willing to beg, they wouldn't allow her to be there and they wouldn't allow Simon to return to his room either.

After letting out a sigh, she gently slid to his side, her movements were slow, so much so that Simon couldn't help but giggle due to the delicacy of her movements with the intention of not hurting him.

She leaned her head on his shoulder and sighed, he wrapped his arm around her, trying to hug her against his bare torso as much as possible.

"I'm okay." He tried to reassure her, but he knew that no matter how many times he repeated those words, she would still be worried.

"Have I ever told you how important you are to me?"

Simon nodded and smiled. (Y/N) was someone who always made an effort to talk about her emotions, and it wasn't at all unusual for her to mention to her boyfriend what a big role he played in her life.

"I know." He murmured and leaned down to place a kiss on her forehead. "You are to me too."

They were both silent, but even with the medications, Simon's mind couldn't stop working. There was something that had been going through his head for the last few weeks, he had everything planned, but he still had that insecurity inside him.

The insecurity of her saying no.

"Have you ever thought about… marriage?" he asked quietly. If she said no, he could blame the medications later.

That shot had been enough to make him think about that kind of thing, it was stupid, teenage Simon would never have thought about marriage in his life.

"Maybe" she murmured nervously. Her hands had trembled slightly and her body tensed, something that did not go unnoticed by Simon. "And you?"

"Maybe…" He answered in the same way. Simon always did that after asked a question: he would answer exactly the same thing as her.

She giggled and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She was nervous, she didn't know how to answer that question because yes, she had once thought about marriage and felt it was a stupid thing to think about when there were so many more problems she needed to focus on first.

But she had talked about it with those close to her more than once and when everyone mentioned that marriage was eventually a step she should take, she had started to think about it.

On the other hand, there was Simon's mentality. Too many things had happened in his life, most of them not very positive, he had felt lost for more than half his life and for the first time he felt like he had something good, something he didn't want to let go of and was willing to go through all the stages of it.

Of course, the beautiful ones.

However, it seemed disrespectful to ask those kinds of questions if he didn't even know her point of view, he wasn't going to come with a ring and put pressure on her just to forced her to say yes.

"Honestly, yes," she murmured after a while. She almost felt her stomach in her throat, she had always been honest with her feelings, but this was something different, this was a really serious conversation. "It's stupid, but yeah… Marriage sounds good with you."

Simon closed his eyes for a few seconds, he did his best not to smile. He had wanted to hear those words for several months.

"Do you know what I'll do when I get out of here?"

"Go to training?" she joking, causing him to smile.

"No, I will find a way to make you my wife." He whispered, sending shivers down her body.

(Y/N) closed her eyes for a few seconds. She loved the feeling of having him close, especially after feeling like her world had completely collapsed when she received that news.

She couldn't stop her mind from wandering, starting to think about the thousands of scenarios in which she could receive that question, thinking about the day she was going to wake up and everything around her changing. She couldn't wait.

Her bubble burst when the nurse entered the room. (Y/N) sighed and tried her hardest not to roll her eyes, she knew it was time to leave, but she didn't want to leave him there, she couldn't.

"Lieutenant, you have to go."

She lifted her face only to meet Simon's. He quickly noticed the disappointment on her face and couldn't help but feel guilty.

"I'll be back tomorrow," she murmured and Simon could only nod.

She leaned down to press her lips against his for short seconds. Finally, she separated from him and walked away slowly, she could feel the nurse's intense gaze even as she passed by her, but even that wasn't enough to stop a smile from forming on her face.

Now she was an engaged woman… Well, almost.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley cod #simon riley fluff #simon riley one shot #simon riley imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #Simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley cod #Simon riley x reader imagine #ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #ghost imagine #ghost one shot #ghost x you #ghost x reader imagine #ghost x you imagine

[blondieeu]

winter nights. satoru g.

an uninvited guest showed up that night.

intruder is what they’re normally called but you knew who the person was too well to even call it that.

you didn’t bother to open your door all the way because of how hard it was snowing. the cold air nipping at your nose and your pretty brown skin.

the weather man said it was supposed to snow around 2 inches and counting, and you were pretty prone to getting sick easily—“daddy!”

A smaller voice exclaimed from behind you and the sound of tiny bare feet padding against the wooden floors all came together as you watched a smaller body being scooped up by the man in the door.

Mia, that was her name. She was 6 this coming february and her favorite color is pastel purple.

having her when you were freshly 19 you could argue was one of your best decisions you could've had.

Consequences did however come with the decision but you'd do it all again to have her.

You watched the white haired man slide his dress shoes off and kick the door closed like he still lived there and bring her farther into the house.

"How's my sweet girl?"

He coo'd at her, kissing her forehead and the girl looked up at him with stars in her eyes.

you could hear her ramble on and on about what she did at school, what mommy made for dinner, all the stars she drew, her wanting to watch the princess and the frog for the billionth time.

“mommy made me a tent!”

He took off his shades and set them onto the deep brown coffee table that matched the house's theme without even looking to see if he made it, knowing he did, since he used to live there.

"Oh now did she?"

He challenged her, walking away with her straight towards her room like he lived there, probably considering her bedtime being 7:20p and her still being up at 9:00p.

You sighed when he kicked the door closed once again, hearing giggles and laughing coming from the room as you started off into your kitchen down the hallway.

Opening the fridge you took out leftovers of the dinner you made a couple hours ago, Cajun chicken pasta.

Throwing it into the microwave to heat as you waited, your pretty white nails tapping against the marble counters as you listened to the faint 'vrrrrrrr' and let it soothe you.

"You know you didn't have to do that for me." A low voice came from behind you and before you could turn to tell him off for scaring you he put a finger on his lips.

"She's asleep?"

He nodded, already knowing you were referring to Mia. He smiled a bit, opening the microwave before it hit '00:01' and taking out the meal.

He grabbed a fork out of the spoon and fork drawer, like he lived there, and followed you into the living room plopping down next to you on the couch and starting to watch whatever bullshit show was on the TV while he fucked up that pasta.

tonight it was some episode of 'Lucifer' with the British man as the lead roll, you guys loved him. you could remember being pregnant with your baby and watching this show every night.

"You were away."

you started, not looking at him but not exactly watching the TV, just blank. He stopped eating and sat it on the glass coffee table, sitting up and leaning his forearms on his knees.

"I know..You know how my job goes, m’ sorry baby."

He looked like he wanted to say something else and even though you felt bad you couldn't help but be a little pissed at him, what about his family? his kid?

"What else are you gonna miss, Satoru?"

You asked, no expression readable on your face but he looked a little sad when you said that, his eyebrows furrowing when he quickly looked at you.

"I took some time off."

Your ears perked. Satoru Gojo, your ex boyfriend of 6 1/2 years and now baby daddy, took some time off his job!? What a shocker!

"Got 3 days off."

He added, a cocky sigh accompanied the end as he messed with his watch—like he ever really knows what time it is anyway.

"Why? You made your point on how strict they are so why now?"

"Because I wanted to spend more time with my family."

oh.

You didn't say anything else, watching his snow white hair bounce as the two of you got up, you following him straight into the kitchen, like he lived there. you sat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and watched as he washed his dish.

"So you're gonna just be staying here?"

You asked, spinning in the chair slightly.

"If you'll let me y/n, whatever you want. It's all up to you"

He muttered, his words almost sounding irritated since you kept nagging him.

"What about that lady you've got at home, you should spend time with her too Satoru."

. . .

He paused, his right arm momentarily stopped scrubbing the dishes as he took in a real deep sigh.

"My daughter always comes first, as well as her mother. You know that y/n."

He retorted back, finishing washing his dish and starting to wash all the other dishes in the sink as well. It went silent for a while.

Except the light bickering it wasn't awkward or angry, it was just a moment to cool down so the two of you didn't say anything you didn't mean or would regret on a later date.

Serena was her name, his girlfriend I mean. They haven't been dating for very long, maybe 4 months not that you're counting but you didn't really like her and it wasn't because you were jealous or anything, she just seemed too expensive.

"Mia has a parent teacher conference on Thursday."

You broke the silence when he finished washing the dishes, drying his hands off with the towel that rested near the sink.

"I'll be there."

he put the dish away in the cabinet. finally turning towards the kitchen island where you sat and pressed his palms on it, giving it some of his weight.

with a heavy sigh you put your hand in your palm and stared back at him. taking all of him in since you saw him a couple of days ago.

his haircut he got and never stopped getting since you said it looked good on him, the small freckles he had that no one noticed—there were 17 on them on his face, the matching promise ring he had on his finger from like what 2 years ago??

“i miss you satoru.”

his eyes softened and he started around the island, eventually coming to you. you spun the bar stool to face him and he came between your parted legs.

he didn’t say anything.

you didn’t say anything.

his fingers were innocent at your knees, but eventually grew tainted while they traveled up them. his fingers gliding up your pretty brown skin and under your pajama shorts, grabbing at your ass when he pulled you off of the bar stool and onto the counter.

it was a fast action and it almost had you winded when your hands found the back of his neck, feeling that familiar haircut design with your initial on it.

satoru fixed himself between your legs, his face close to yours. he grabbed your hand and put it on his chest.

“you feel that?”

his heart was beating a-million-miles-a-fucking-hour and he looked flushed but his eyes were only on yours. like you were the only woman to ever exist.

you nodded slowly at his question, taking your other hand off his shoulder and using it to prop yourself up from the counter as extra support.

“that’s how i feel about you.. don’t fuckin’ ask me about another woman when this is how i feel about only you. ain no other woman gonna get me like this you hear?”

you could never forget those icy blue eyes.

bloundieeu xx

#blondieeu #smut #jjk megumi #jjk nanami #jjk gojo #jjk spoilers #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jjk geto #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satorugojo #jjk satoru #jujutsu satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojou satoru x you #satoru smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #jujutsu geto #geto suguru #choso smut #kento nanami

[letsgetrowdy43]

Would you want it in like individual little thoughts for each brother or like a specific brother and like a larger blurb??

individual thought for each brother please🙏🙏

Request: could you write a fic/blurb for the hughes brothers and how they would take care of their gf who’s overstimulated and has gone non-verbal (and i don’t think you would take this the wrong way but some people have when i haven’t specified) (not in the sexy way)

I tried to be as general as possible, just cause I don't want to be insensitive to anyones triggers or to any personal experiences!!

Quinn—

Being captain means that Quinn has to attend these bigger events and be as present as he possibly can be for them. But if and when his girlfriend needs his help, his captain duties get pushed to the side until he knows she is safe and okay. They attend an event together and it gets a little busier than she expected she tries to stick it out, but by the sixth random person that had come up to ask her questions about Quinn and the charities that the two of them had been working with during this season, she is just completely out of her comfort zone and so overwhelmed Quinn noticed right away from her body language, watching her whole body tense up, and by the way her face looked blank with wide eyes as she tried to find the nearest exit. He's immediately trailing behind her and into the hallway of the banquet hall, finding her curled up in a ball, her pretty dress pooled around her as she hid her face in her hands. “Hey hey,” he mumbled, trying to get her to stop panicking, pulling her hands away from her face to make her look at him, “let's try those breathing exercises that you taught me” She's struggling to comprehend, but he is persistent and gets her to a state of calm in a few minutes. Her head rests against his shoulder as he creates a game plan in his head to get their things and get them out to the car without a soul noticing, and without being bombarded by people wanting to chat with him. At the end of the day, she is his number one priority, his leadership means a lot but she means a lot more to him than some tabloids that paint him out to be the saving grace of the canucks.

Jack—

Jack is known for being a carefree soul, he's go with the flow and has a bubbly or joking demeanour. But the second she needs him, all of his attention goes straight to her. The bar they were at had strobe lights, she had never experienced something like this, but the flashing, mixed with the music and loud chatter had her head spinning. She sat awkwardly in the corner of the bar, nursing a tall glass of ice water that she had managed to order herself before she completely shut down. So now she just sitting in silence in some dimly lit booth in the back, twiddling her thumbs in her lap as she focused on her breathing. Jack searched the crowd for her the second he came to realize that she was no longer by his side, his conversation with Dylan Larkin going a bit longer than intended which led to him becoming lost in their conversations about his upcoming wedding. His eyes found her from across the room, and within a second he was maneuvering his way around the room to get to her. "Oh baby," he said as she looked at him tiredly, slowly blinking at him which let him know just where her energy level was at, "I'll call Luke to come and get us now," he said sitting down next to her, careful not to touch her or move her around too much and make her feel even worse. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable while we wait?" with a slight shake of her head Jack watched as she mentally counted the seconds in between her breaths, "would some fresh air maybe help, get you away from the noise?" she looked at him again and nodded, her lips turning up into a smile as she reached out to squeeze his hand. A little notion to tell him. that she was okay when she could verbally express it.

Luke—

Luke's girlfriend hated parties, but this was the boys' last big college party before they headed to Tampa for the Frozen Four, and then Luke to Jersey, so she wanted to be there in support of him, and as a nice send-off. But it was a lot, a lot of people, a lot of music, and the awful smell of alcohol. An episode hadn't happened in a while once she realized that it was the parties and the environment that were causing them, but she wanted to surprise Luke and be there for his final hurrah. But the second she stepped in she was quickly anxious, she hadn't left her boyfriend's side the entire night, her hands gripping him to make sure not to lose him in the chair that was the hockey house. She squeezed his side the second someone accidentally bumped into her, her face growing red as she silently let tears roll down her cheeks, too out of it to wipe them off. He felt her touch and saw the look on her face, he quickly whisked her away and brought her into an empty bathroom on the second floor of the house. He felt a little panicked as he watched her just blankly stare at her feet, heavy breathing before he remembered the thing about pressure and relieving her nervous system of any stressors that his mental coach taught him about a few months before. "I'm gonna try something okay?" he mumbled as his arms wrapped around her, pulling her into his chest and squeezing her as tight as he could. they stood like that for a few minutes, his arms applying continuous pressure to her as her breaths steadied. "feel better?" she nodded slowly as her hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt, feeling the soft material between her fingertips before tapping him to let him know that she was okay. he pulled away, holding her a good length away to examine her state, her eyes tired as she wiped away the tear streaks that had remained on her face, "let's go lay down in my room, let you decompress before bed," he said brushing the hair from her face and away from her neck as she weakly smiled and nodded at him

-

-

-

#rotalks: hughes brothers night!! #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader

[wnobin]

NO BUNNY BUT YOU! 🐰

petsitter! wonbin x fem! reader

series synopsis: your friends refuse to look after your bunnies, tokki and dokki, while you’re on an overseas programme for a week. luckily, winter knows the right person for the job.

series masterlist

part eleven: one less lonely girl guy

you had already planned it all out, you knew the dorms would be mostly empty this week as everyone was on break and would be going home. you were finally going to confess to wonbin and decided that it was best that nobody else saw what you were about to do.

you had spent the past 2 days racking your brain on what to do to make this confession your best, even asking winter what wonbin’s favourite song used to be back then. you didn’t take wonbin to be a justin bieber fan, but you weren’t surprised. thank god wonbin was a belieber, it made things so much easier. the past day was spent making a poster that was decorated with blue glitter and little heart and star stickers pasted around. it took you half a day but you were proud of your work. you had gone to sleep that night with a racing heart, anxious about how the next day would go.

god if he rejects me because of this i’ll have to drop out and continue college overseas.

you showed up to his dorm in the afternoon, knowing it would be the most empty then with students going out. you left your dorm carrying a rather large poster and your phone in your hand only to be caught by winter, who was coincidentally leaving to get lunch with karina at the same time. “oh hey y/n! what’s that you’re holding?” you hid the rolled up poster behind your back, awkwardly giggling as you waved at them. “oh this? it’s nothing, just something for a project!” winter raised her eyebrow at you, not believing you at all but deciding to let it go, saying goodbye to you as she and karina took their leave.

you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding as you made your way to wonbin’s dorm, considering turning back and scratching your plans altogether. maybe you should’ve come up with something less embarrassing. before you could change your mind, the door to wonbin’s dorm opened. he was about to take out the trash and saw you standing in front of him while holding a rolled up piece of paper. “hey y/n! i was just about to throw this out. what’s that?” he motioned to your poster and you knew it was too late to back down.

you gulped and placed your palm against wonbin’s chest, pushing him back inside his dorm so you wouldn’t have to confess to him out in his hallway. you pressed play on the song you had set up on your phone, one less lonely girl by justin bieber, as you unveiled your poster to a very confused looking wonbin. he had that signature blank look behind his eyes as he tried to process what was happening, his eyes scanning the words on the poster.

i may not be justin bieber but can i make you one less lonely girl guy?

wonbin stared at the poster for what seemed like forever, his mouth occasionally opening as if to say something, but he would close it, at a loss of words. he eventually covered his mouth but his widened eyes said everything he wasn’t actually saying. you were ready to roll up your poster again, feeling embarrassed at the lack of response.

just then, you could hear the footsteps of people behind you and the sound of a group of guys chattering. you turned your head only to be met by wonbin’s friends, one of them holding his phone up and recording. when you and anton made eye contact, you froze as his mouth dropped open. the other two guys with him stopped in their tracks as well, not blinking as they read the words on your poster. all five of you stood there not saying a word with justin bieber still playing in the background. without a word, wonbin held your arm and pulled you in and closed the door behind you, not even acknowledging his friends’ shocked expressions.

“i- i’m sorry, i don’t know what they’re going here.” wonbin finally broke the silence and looked at your face instead of the poster this time, his gaze on you soft and loving. “you did this for me?”

“yeah, i did. do you hate it? i’m sorry—” you could barely get your panicked apology out before being engulfed in a tight hug by wonbin, your bones almost getting crushed. “are you crazy? how could i hate it? this is the sweetest, and silliest, gesture anyone has ever done for me. i’m just disappointed that—”

“you’re disappointed? oh god.”

“you idiot, let me finish,” he flicked your forehead playfully as you winced, over exaggerating your pain. “i meant, i’m just disappointed that i didn’t get the chance to confess first. and also disappointed that i didn’t think of something as cool as you.” that caught you off guard. you didn’t know wonbin was planning to confess too. you gave him a look that prompted him to elaborate further. “it’s not much but i was planning to ask you to be mine by making us matching bracelets…” he trailed off, getting shy all of a sudden.

she must think it’s so lame, i don’t know if she even likes bracelets, i’ve never even seen her wear one.

wonbin’s overthinking was cut off by your squeal, a large grin spreading across your face as you held onto his hands, jumping up and down in joy. “you made us matching bracelets?!” he nodded sheepishly, muttering out that it’s not perfect yet. “nonsense! anything you touch is perfect to me, wonbin.” he couldn’t help but to place his hands on your cheeks, gently cupping your face and giving you no choice but to look up into his eyes. “you’re perfect to me.”

“i like you. like, a lot. iwannabeyours, wonbin.” you blurted out your rushed confession, heat rising to your cheeks. wonbin gently rubbed his thumb on your burning cheek, smiling softly at you.

“be mine, please.”

the distance between the both of you were so close that you could feel his warm breathing on your skin. before anything could happen, you were interrupted by the sound of shuffling feet outside the door, reminded that wonbin’s friends were still eavesdropping outside. wonbin groaned and swung the door open, revealing a stumbling sohee who clearly had his ear pressed against the door. he giggled awkwardly, apologising as anton and seunghan dragged him away, waving goodbye to the both of you as wonbin closed the door.

“so… the bracelets. can i see them?”

“my girl can see whatever she wants.”

a/n: thank you all so much for the support on this series that i came up with at literally 9am in the morning! i really appreciate all the nice comments and asks 🥹 i’ll be releasing an anton smau next so do check it out 🫶

taglist: @istphanie @snowyseungs @nyuoqi @myizhous @jhskluv @babigriin @revehosh @acidwon @fourthirtyone-am @jiaant11 @bimbobunnii @lilacarat @sanctify-mp3 @mmsriza @llearlert @yangasm @thatissotoxic @quilevyt @hibernatinghamster @j1ho0n @hiraarri @annswwa @ilovejungwonandhaechan @dutifullyannoyingfox @miyawakiblossoms

#riize x reader #riize #riize fluff #riize imagines #park wonbin #riize smau #riize wonbin #riize wonbin x reader #wonbin fluff #wonbin imagines #wonbin smau #wonbin x reader #wonbin

[thesecretwriter]

a memory, chapter 1 (tom riddle).

pairing: tom riddle x female reader

warnings: nothing hectic, it’s a slow burn beginning, but the foundation of it is needed for more important parts later.

summary: y/n find the diary of tom riddle and becomes curious when she finds that the diary is unlike any book shes encountered before as well as a man from the past who leaves her with even more questions.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: Happy reading, hope you enjoy!

minors/ageless blogs dni.

series masterlist

masterlist

Funny, the damage a silly little diary can do, especially in the hands of a mindless girl such as yourself.

The diary was found in the restricted section of the library that no one ventured into. You had got a hold of it when curiosity got the best of you. Hogwarts allowed you the privilege to use studying to explore topics not taught in the syllabus as one of the students who was furthering their studies.

There was nothing special about it, just a normal diary, but when your fingers first brushed against them, you felt a jolt of an unknown emotion that made you hastily grab the diary. The pages were blank, no writing, no drawings. Nothing.

How peculiar.

You made your way out of the library, taking your usual route back to your houses common room. However, you couldn’t shake off the feeling as if you were being watched.

You stopped walking as you turned down a dark hallway, waiting to see if someone was following you, but there were no sound of footsteps. You dismissed the feeling to your sleep deprivation and carried on to your common room.

So, you sat at the study table in your common room while your housemates slept soundly. You grabbed your quill and dipped it in the ink. You wrote your full name onto the first page and watched as your writing disappeared. It didn’t phase you since you expected it to be some kind of magical diary. However, it was what next appeared that baffled you.

Hello y/f/n.

You took in a deep breath and thought for a moment before writing again.

Is this an enchantment diary?

Maybe, maybe not.

Your brows furrowed. It seemed like it might’ve been like one of those items that Fred and George sell, but then why would it be in the restrict section of the Hogwarts library?

Why was this book hidden in the restricted section of the library?

The words disappeared like before.

So that it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.

You inhaled sharply and decided that was enough for today. Your curiosity got you this far, but you knew better than to dabble in this further. You closed the book and put it back into the pile of books and began your usual research.

In the following days, your mind couldn’t get rid of the thought of wanting to find out more about the diary. It’s as though you’re under a sort of spell of desire for it.

You found yourself in Professor Remus’ classroom. He seemed to be busy marking papers.

“Y/n, what do I owe the pleasure?” he said with a kind smile.

“Evening, professor. I was hoping to ask you a few questions about a recent topic I’m researching,” you said as nonchalantly as you could.

Professor Remus nodded in reply and set the papers in his hand aside.

“What questions do you have for me?” you walked to his desk and set your books aside.

You weren’t going to show him the diary, but you could work your way around finding out information.

“I was curious if it were possible to enchant a book, specifically a diary,” you explained.

“Enchant it in what way?” he asked slightly confused.

“Perhaps maybe having it reply to whatever is written inside of it,” you said to clarify.

He wondered for a moment. There were many books which he encountered that were enchanted, some even being textbooks used at Hogwarts like the Care of Magical Creatures textbook.

“There are books which are enchanted, but not in the way you mentioned,”

You sigh at his reply, not gaining anymore answers that the ones you had before.

“Alright, thank you, professor. For clarifying,” you said with a smile and nodded as a way of saying goodbye.

Just as you were about to exit the classroom, you heard his voice call out.

“I know you have an interest in researching topics, y/n, but if you find yourself too far in, it can be harmful,” he advised.

“I know, professor,” you smiled and continued on your way.

That night, you sat at the very same desk as before with the diary in front of you. Once again, you took the quill which was dipped in ink and wrote in the diary.

What are the origins of this book?

They disappear as usual and a few moments later you get a reply.

I don’t believe I can tell you…

You sigh in frustration and put the quill aside, just then, more words appear.

… but I can show you.

Your brows furrow in confusion and concern. Feeling like you have reached your point of research for the night, you went to close the diary when all of a sudden bright flashes of light came from the book and you felt yourself being pulled towards it.

You closed your eyes in preparation for what may come, but you felt nothing. You opened your eyes carefully to see yourself in the hallways of Hogwarts, but it seemed so different than what you’re used to seeing.

A shadow appears on the wall in front of you, and you quickly hide in an adjoined hallway. You heard the footsteps approaching, the figure came into view. It was a young man who seemed slightly older than you. His robes were of a different style but had the emblem of Slytherin.

The young man stopped his walking looked as if he was checking the hallways, when you looked more closely at his robes, you saw that he had a badge, a prefect badge. He started to walk in your direction, which caused you to walk backwards, but another voice interrupted both your movements.

“Tom,” a familiar voice called after him.

“Yes, professor?” Tom answered.

The source of the familiar voice came into view, and you were shocked to see Professor Dumbledore, but he seemed to be much younger than he is now.

“I think it would be okay for you to retire back to your living quarters,” Dumbledore advised.

Tom nodded his head in agreeance. “Very well, professor. I’m doing one last check around the halls, professor,”

Dumbledore nodded and bid Tom a goodnight.

You watched as Tom waited for Dumbledore to walk away before he continued on his way towards the hallway you were in. Which reminded you that you were trying to hide from him. However, as he walked towards you, he walked on as if he never saw you.

This further baffled you, but as your curiosity grew, you silently followed him. He walked to the end of the hallway and waited. The wall started to change, slowly revealing a door that was not there before.

He stepped inside and was about to close it, but he stopped and seemed as though he was looking right at you. Fear spread throughout you, though that was short lived when Tom closed the door.

As you took a step to walk forward, you felt the same feeling as when the diary consumed you. A bright flash of light appeared, your eyes closed and when you opened them again, you were in your common room, sat at the study table with the diary in front of you.

You were trying to compose yourself after what you’d just witnessed. Did you dose off and dream the whole thing? Was your lack of sleep catching up with you? what spell would cause such an effect?

All these questions jumbled into your mind, and you were about to stand up and gather your things, but then words appeared on the page in front of you.

Now you know who I am.

#tom riddle #tom riddle series #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle fanfic #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x reader #older!tom riddle #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic

[klwrites]

Young Love part 1/3 (Damian Wayne)

This can be the the first day of what ever grade you’d like! College even

Damian marched into his honors chemistry class expecting to get into the biggest waste of his time. Immediately when the teacher started to speak he started fidgeting with the items prepared at each lab table. One careless bored move after the next, flames emerge. The sprinklers went off and students yelled as the flames spread.

Fuck fuck fuck

The fire was spreading fast, but Damian made it out the classroom, making sure everyone else left first. He frantically looked around for anyone in distress, and noticed the school was filled with smoke and there were more flames across the school.

There must be two fires then.

Regardless of not having his suit, Damian went into the flames to investigate. After going in and out to bring hurt students to safety, he searched the firey hallways. Nearly out of breath, he finally found a clue.

“What are you doing?” He shouted, expecting someone more criminal.

“Get away! Save yourself!” You sternly yelled, desperate to not hurt anyone in this incomprehensible accident.

Damian paused, slowly letting his arms down to see better. There you were, a teenage girl, flames coming cracks out of your face, tears streaming. Why did Damian’s heart hurt?

“Are you going to be okay if I did that?” He questioned.

“I.. I don’t know.”

“I’m staying,” He coughed. “I can help you, trust me.”

What the fuck is wrong with her?

“Everyone is out of the building but me. Trust me.” Damian reassured.

He looked down at his phone, Bruce sent him multiple worried messages, the last one being “on my way”. Damian sighed and put his phone away.

“We need to leave now, otherwise The Batman will think you did this on purpose or something.”

Your horrified eyes got wider. “Oh my god I’m a criminal.”

“No. Not if you get us out of here.” He coughed.

All the exits were blocked by fire, where could they escape? He stood behind you, impatiently waiting to get out of the building. You were unsure what to do, you had no control over the firey blasts coming from you. But for the first time, metaphorically and physically, someone was standing with you. You closed your eyes and focused on the blank void in your eyelids. Taking a deep breath and opening your eyes you shot your hand forward, letting a path through the fire slowly open.

“Just like that! Just a little more!” Damian shouted,

You yelled in pain, breaking more of the fire apart.

Damian gasped, looking over to you right as you fell unconscious. Without skipping a beat, he caught you and ran. He ran deep into the woods, trying to be sure no one could catch them. He looked behind him, the schools fire was spreading through Gotham. Setting you down, he moved the hair out of your face and stared with a judgmental look on his face. Then he put forward his hand to check your pulse. Still here. She’s the reason the city is on the verge of complete flames, yet he feels at complete peace sitting there in the woods with her.

You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a large dark room. In the corner was a figure sitting with his back turned at a desk. You stretched before setting your feet on the ground. You noticed the burn holes in your shoes, then pants, then sweatshirt. Then you remembered everything. You quickly looked up as there was a knock on the door.

“Damian! What’s going on?!” A deep voice yelled.

“Shit shit shit shit shit” whispered Damian. “We have to get out of here.”

“What?”

He put his hand over your mouth and used his hand to move your towards the window.

“Do what I do.” Damian instructed.

You jumped towards the ground and followed him through a long forest followed by a tall stone wall surrounding the place. After we made it through he turned to you and placed a finger over his mouth then you followed him to a dark secluded alley. Damian looked around making sure it was safe, then placed the hood over his head.

“What’s going on? Where am I? Who are-“

“Look, the city is on fire, and it won’t stop burning. No amounts of water will stop it and everyone on the streets of Gotham is looking for you. Stop the fire now.”

You what?

“What do you mean the fire won’t go out?” You asked in disbelief.

“Nothing is stopping it. I know it has to be you.”

A part of you wanted to coward away into the fire and die with it, but something the feeling of looking around this man makes you feel okay.

“Not to mention they have footage of you… everyone knows it’s you.”

You stare blankly at the streets on fire,

“I…” you pause.

“I’m not leaving you until this is over.” Damian sternly stated. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

You turned to him, your eyes softened, you felt a warm sensation in your chest- a good one.

“Do you meditate?” Damian asked,

For some reason he feels the need to help you. He relates to you almost. Maybe he sees what you could become, or maybe he could you had no sense of home like he did. Whatever it was it made him feel like risking everything for you.

“No?”

“Before I came here, I stayed somewhere far away from everyone and everything so I could live with myself and control myself. All through meditation. Sit with me please, do what I do again.”

You sat in-front of him mirroring his pose and shutting your eyes.

“Starting at your feet, take a minute to think about how every part of your body feels. Slowly work your way up.”

After a long period of silence, Damian continued the instructions.

“Slowly open your eyes now. I want you to identify the things you see to yourself right now. Just list everything you see, don’t think much.”

The trash. The rocks. The fire. God the fire. There’s a spider web, or maybe a Cobb web? And fire. So much fire.

You started to breath fast and heavy, waves of panic took over your body. You had to stop all of this fire? You didn’t even know how to start it.

“Hey, look at me. Not the fire. I’m right here, what do you see on me?”

Black hair. Spiky black hair. Tan skin. Dark eyes. Stern sharp eyes. He was like a black cat.

“Close your eyes again.”

You almost didn’t want to.

“Feel inside of you again. Think of what you feel. What did you see? How does it connect to the noise you hear right now?”

You could feel it. The fire. It was there in your core, burning. The burning got hotter and hotter until you opened your eyes, nearly in pain. The fire had gone out more, and weakens around you.

“That’s it. You’re in tune.” Damian smiled.

But it hurts.

You took a deep breath, and kept going.

Damian could tell it hurt, he understood the burning that gets worse when things get better.

“It’s all going to be okay.”

The fire eventually went out on one street, but there’s a lot more to Gotham then that. You and Damian decided to lay low overnight so you could get energy back before taking down more. You were still an enemy of the city, and who could blame them? It was night three of being on the run that you thought to ask his name.

Damian’s admiration for you grew, he spent all day trying to find more ways to help you control this curse. His phone was going off nearly every five minutes, you would just watch as he’d pause what he was saying, grumbled, looked at his phone, sighed, and type.

“Bruce, have you seen the news that just came out?” Alfred asked.

“No, is is about Damian?”

The poor man had been searching day and night for his son.

“Yes sir. I was watching the news and a video recording of last night came up, she was in an alley way and master Damian was clearly behind her…”

That confirmed Bruce’s instincts. His son was kidnapped, and he would do everything in his way to get him back. Without any words he stood from his desk, walked over to his weapons, and started packing his most obscure ones.

“Sir?”

“I will tear Gotham apart to find my son.”

#batman #dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #damian al ghul #dc universe #dcamu

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 11: meet cute

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

A special one, I really enjoyed writing it. Reblog if you liked it!

Spencer walked through the gallery in silence, paying attention to all the paintings and trying to give them his own interpretation. For some strange reason, being in those places relaxed him greatly and right now it was what he needed most: a well-deserved respite after a long day of work.

“Good night,” he greeted a young woman, who was attentively looking at a painting.

The woman he saw couldn't have been more than thirty years old and her clothing was... how to put it? Something eccentric. All the clothes were vibrant tones and she wore a woven bag with uneven parts, who knows if it was on purpose or not.

“Good night,” you murmured just as kindly, keeping your hands in the pockets of your colorful jacket.

The painting in front of you was, in short, something grotesque. But it wasn't in a bad way, it had a certain special touch that made it… Spencer couldn't even describe it. It was very good, but to some extent uncomfortable to look at. Almost like a ritualistic crime scene that he was so used to: beautiful, but at the same time terrifying.

"Do you like it?"

“Huh?” the man asked, fearing he had misheard the girl next to him. She nodded toward the exhibit and her brain filled in the blanks. “The painting? Yes, I think it's very good. I'm afraid I'm not a great connoisseur of artistic currents, but from a very point of view this could be part of The Black Paintings, Francisco de Goya's collection”

“I know them,” you said happily. “My favorite is that one about Saturn devouring his son. You know, the one where they're eating a…” you started to say, making signs with your hands that he understood immediately.

“I think art is very subjective, like everything in the world. Some people may consider the Mona Lisa a masterpiece and others may appreciate more the style of Van Gogh or the cubism of Picasso and they are all right. Each person enjoys art things that reflect the content of their soul and I think that is the beautiful thing about paintings, don't you think?

“You know a lot for someone who is not knowledgeable about art” you smiled, feeling captivated by the way the stranger next to you expressed himself.

“Actually I say that I am not a connoisseur because I don’t want to offend those who are. I've only read a couple of books on the subject and... well, I love coming to museums, but that's all”

“Honestly, I think it's very ugly,” you said suddenly, turning your head slightly to observe the painting “It looks a little strange on the bottom, whoever did it should improve their technique a little.”

Spencer felt strange hearing such a cruel comment coming from a person who seemed to be sweet, but he figured you would have your reasons for holding that opinion. He considered leaving there but his attempt was interrupted by another presence, this time a man dressed in an elegant suit who approached you.

“Miss Y/L/N” he greeted you cordially, while you shook his hand “I see you came to appreciate our exhibition, do you like the light we put there? Does it help the colors of the work or do you want us to change it to a warmer one?”

“Oh, don't worry Frank. I like that one, it makes it look gloomy” you answered nonchalantly “You just should put it somewhere else, I'm not very proud of this one in particular”

"What are you talking about? Many people liked it. Isn't it good, gentleman?” he asked, turning to Spencer who was watching the two of them curiously.

“It's beautiful,” he confessed. He actually thought that, he wasn't saying it out of commitment or anything, and his response made you smile sheepishly.

"Stop. Everything is perfect here, thank you for giving it a home in your gallery”

“And there will be more spaces in the future, think about it,” the man murmured, squeezing your shoulder warmly and friendly. “Have a good night, excuse me.”

“Goodbye, Frank.”

The two of you watched the man walk down the hallway until he got lost in a turn and then the agent turned his attention to you.

“So you're an artist?”

“I try that” you laughed. He took a look at you and then at the picture in front of you, as if he had a hard time believing that you were the creator, of course due to the difference in styles that both elements had “But I like that people don't know, so I can hear honest opinions. And I appreciate yours, you are very kind.”

"I only say what I see"

“Would it be very bold of me if I asked you to be my model one day?” you asked cautiously, hoping not to scare him with your request.

"A model?"

“I really like your jaw,” you exclaimed, pointing a finger in the air at the line you were talking about. “And the way your hair falls. They are nice to paint”

“Well, I…I would be flattered,” Spencer said, not knowing how to react to what you had just said. Something like that had never been suggested to him and he felt strange, but excited at the same time.

“Do you want to write me your number?”

“I can give you my card,” he stammered, digging in his briefcase so he could give you the piece of paper. When he extended it to you, you analyzed it with curiosity.

“Dr. Spencer Reid. FBI” you read, quite impressed “So we both got a surprise today, huh?”

"Definitely"

“I'll call you,” you promised, pocketing the card warily and rewarding him with one of yours. They were simpler with hand-painted details and with fewer titles, but it would be useful for him to contact you “And who knows, maybe the next time you come it will be you who is in the gallery.”

Spencer blushed at the thought and smiled at you, wondering how possible that was. You responded to the smile with pleasure, because unintentionally you had just found the one who would permanently become your muse.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

[atinywriter]

maintenance of the heart

[ song mingi x reader ] [ handyman!mingi ] [ tenant!reader ] [fluff/angst]

[ wordcount: 12.6k]

[ warnings: toxic relationship, cheating, angst]

[unedited]

The steam was billowing around you in your relaxing mid morning shower when you hear your dog barking from the front room. Startled, soap from your face wash ran down into your eyes, making you cringe and your eyes sting. Your dog Petunia didn’t have a tendency to bark often, but to be fair you had new neighbors move in on the weekend and she was still getting used to their noises. Still, you didn’t want to be that person with a noisy dog, so you finished up what you were doing in the shower and wrung your hair out over the bathtub. Gripping onto your fluffy pink towel, you dry off quickly and wrap it around your body. Opening the door to the bathroom, you head down the thin straight hallway, heading to the front room where you knew Petunia would be. Turning the corner, a small yelp leaving your mouth at the sight of a large man crouched next to Petunia, giving her a belly rub. At the sound of your voice, his head shoots up and his eyes widen comically at taking in the sight of you in your fluffy pink towel. He’s quick to get to his feet and turn around, one hand covering his eyes and the other holding a clipboard horizontally.

“Who are you,” you say in a sharp tone, muscles tensed and ready to dash into the kitchen and potentially grab a knife if necessary.

“I’m here for the maintenance request put in the other day. I was told no one would be home, I even knocked and waited for a moment,” He said, still turned away from you out of respect.

“Who put in the request?” You asked, knowing it could only be one other person that would’ve put it in but still wanting the clarification.

“A Lee Seo-Jun,” the man replied.

“Ayesh, that moron,” you say under your breathe while rubbing your eyes. “Go ahead and do whatever you need to do. I’ll be out if a few minutes if you need anything. C’mon, Tuna,” you say and Petunia follows you down the hallway into your bedroom.

Your boyfriend of almost 3 years had been becoming more and more inconsiderate lately, and this just added a bit of fuel to your fire. You had done everything to be the gentle diligent housewife figure who at the same time made enough money to cover the bills so he could use whatever money he made at his job to “treat himself” over and over and over. Everything was in your name, you paid all the bills and then some. He had come into your life through a mutual friend, figured out how naive you were and manipulated you enough to not realize until three years later he was nothing but a leech. You barely saw him anymore, he was always “traveling for work” or “working long hours at the office”. You had your suspicions, but you were never one to want contention in your relationship so you swept every inconvenience under the rug. Roughly pulling on the clothes you had planned out, you brush through your hair and do your skincare quickly, not really wanting to leave a maintenance man unsupervised in your apartment.

Petunia was following next to you until reaching the kitchen, then bounded over to the man crouched into your empty dishwasher that has sat unused for months. You tended to do your dishes by hand, as the one time Seo-Jun had attempted to do them months ago he broke the dishwasher. Since then you had been hand washing his dishes as well, until you put your foot down on doing his dishes about a week ago. He must already be tired of doing the bare minimum, hence why he put in the request.

“What’s your name,” you ask the stranger inside your dishwasher. He jumps slightly and hits his head on the top of the washer before pulling out of it and turning to you. He pulls his arm up to rub the back of his head while looking up to make eye contact with you.

god. fucking. damn.

Your mind blanks as his dark eyes stare into yours. Normally when you’d think of a maintenance man you’d think of an older man who loved to smoke with poor eating habits. The man in front of you was clearly not like anything you’d expected. His dirty blonde hair was peeking out from the bottom of his worn ball cap, brushing up on the back of his neck. His tanned skin was slightly shiny as it was warm and humid outside, and you were trying to prolong as long as you could before turning the air on to keep the bills lower. His hand was still rubbing the back of his head, his bicep stretching the sleeve of his black cotton tee shirt. He drops his hand to pet Petunia on the head, who had taken up residence on the cold tile of the kitchen.

“My name is Song Mingi,” he says gently, “and seriously I’m really sorry again. I promise I’ll finish up quick and be out of your hair as soon as possible.” He takes his ball cap off for a moment, running his hand through his hair before replacing the hat back on his head- backwards this time.

please let my brain start working anytime now

Your thoughts never have a filter, but you sure wish they did. Moving your brain’s focus away from the sight of his hands and thick thighs straining against his cargo pants, you pull out a water bottle from your fridge and hand it over to him. He thanks you and opens it to take a drink. Watching him, you see a few water droplets rolling down his neck. You watch him, almost mesmerized, before balling your hand up into a fist and sitting at the breakfast bar across from him.

just because you haven’t been laid in ages doesn’t mean you should be wantonly staring at this random man in your kitchen. get it together!! Your brain yells at you.

“Have you lived here for a while,” Mingi asks you with his head still inside your dishwasher, fixing whatever needs to be fixed.

“It’s been about three years now I think. Have you worked here for long?”

“I started here a few months ago. Apparently there were some wild accusations against the last maintenance guy, so once he was fired they hired me pretty quickly,” Mingi replied to you.

“Oh my god yeah, I remember him! He was so creepy, gave off the weirdest vibes,” you responded, thinking back on the weird older man.

“Okay, I think I’m all finished up with this. Looks like it was just some loose bolts, it should work now. Let’s test it out really quick,” He says while standing to his full height and closing up the door of the dishwasher. He was so tall that your view was blocked by his broad shoulders. He turns the dial and starts up the dishwasher, letting it run for a moment before opening it back up to ensure that the water was flowing. It looked to be back in working order!

“Thank you for your help, it will be nice to stop hand washing all my dishes,” you smile and thank Mingi as you walk him to the door, Petunia following at his ankles asking for more pets.

“I’m really sorry again,” Mingi says while turning to looking at you, his cheeks a soft pink.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it. It’s not your fault, it’s Seo-Jun’s,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. He gives you a soft smile before giving Petunia some pets.

“Bye, little pup, it was nice to meet you,” Mingi directs at Petunia before addressing you, “Let me know if you need anything! I live on site in apartment 1117 if there’s ever an emergency.”

You thank him again and let him out of your apartment. You lock it and turn to lean your back against it, slowly sliding down to sit on the floor. Petunia climbs into your lap and kisses you all over your face, making you smile and laugh.

“He sure was handsome, wasn’t he Tunes?” She barks after you ask, almost like she was in complete agreement. You smile and push her off of you, standing up to walk into your home office and get some work done.

—————

It was only a few weeks until the next time you encounter Song Mingi. You were enjoying a few days of time off from work, freelancing was so nice and let you have the schedule you enjoyed. You were walking Petunia around the large fenced perimeter of the apartment complex mid morning. The apartment complex was extravagant, on acres of land with an area with trees, a small pond, and even a community garden. You weren’t able to spend as much time there as you’d like, but you had purchased a few small vegetables from the local garden store and were hoping to plant them in the community garden. Petunia was along for the ride as she loved digging holes and you didn’t have a shovel or anything to dig with. Petunia was taking her time, sniffing around the local flora when you lead her to the garden. You weren’t paying the closest attention while walking in, more focused on opening and latching the gate behind them with Petunia in a heel. Looking up you startle slightly at Mingi crouched down at the end of the garden, looking up at you and giving you a sweet smile. You awkwardly bring your hand with Petunia’s leash in it up to wave at him with a smile. Looking down the rows, you see the best areas to plant the vegetables you brought were down at the end near him. Heading down there, Petunia was pulling at her leash to get to Mingi, she clearly liked him a lot. She gave one hard tug and the leash slipped out of your hand. She trotted up to Mingi, jumping on him right away and getting her dirty paw prints on his white tee. You

“Goddamn it Tuna! Get off of him,” you say firmly while speed walking up to them, grabbing onto her leash and tugging her off. Mingi is giggling while still moving to stand up in front of you, still petting Petunia’s head. He straightens and gives you another winning smile, eyes in crescent moons that couldn’t be cuter.

“Hi, [Y/n]! It’s nice to see you,” he says in his deep voice.

“Hi, Mingi. I’m really sorry about Petunia. She knows better,” you say while scowling down at her. She was in a sit which you could appreciate, but the way she was staring at Mingi and the constant wag of her tail you knew she wasn’t even paying attention to you. Mingi held her attention, just like he held onto yours. You look back up at him, literally up because this man was multiple inches taller than most other men you met. You had never really felt short before, but next to him you felt delicate - you liked it. He reached his hand out to the arm you had wrapped around your various veggies, taking a few in his large hands to help alleviate the weight.

“It’s no big deal, I love Petunia. I always wanted a golden retriever, and you can tell from the look in her eyes she’s just the sweetest. What veggies did you bring with you?” Mingi asks, setting your plants down to the open spaces to the left of the area he was working on. This looked as good a space as any, and from the look of Mingi’s plants he clearly knew how to take care of them - if you were really having bad luck maybe he could loan his green thumb.

“I got some carrots, cucumber, and strawberries. I read somewhere they were easy to grow, and I’m still kind of new at this. The only other thing I’ve been able to keep alive is the mint potted in my kitchen. I don’t think anything could kill that thing though,” you say lightheartedly while setting the rest of what was in your hands. “The only thing I don’t have is a trowel. Do you have one I can borrow for a minute? You seem like someone who knows what your doing. I was just going to let Petunia dig the holes for me,” you admit shyly. He laughs and nods at you, taking a few steps over to the bag he had with him and pulled out a black trowel.

“Honestly, it might be more fun for you if you let Petunia do it, but I don���t think Miss Han will like the sight of that, and you probably don’t want to get on her bad side,” Mingi says while handing it over to you.

“Got it, no shenanigans in front of Miss Han,” you say as you pull a bone for Petunia to chew on while you gardened. She lied down and relaxed between the two of you, chewing peacefully. You carefully placed out each of the plants in two rows. You had gotten two of each plant, and you wanted to make sure they each had enough space. Once you had completed that you step back towards where Mingi was, back crouching on the ground trimming a few sun damaged leaves on the plants he was tending. It was fairly sunny out, and you had a bucket hat shielding your neck and face. Mingi had on the same ball cap you had seen before, but his hair looked shorter in the back, and a brighter blonde. He was so intriguing to you, his quiet demeanor being shadowed by his broad physique. You couldn’t help but get curious about what his story was, why he ended up in this apartment complex, what he wanted for his life. You wanted to know, but your lack of bravery and backbone would keep you in this same ignorant cycle you’ve been living for years.

“So, are you working today?” you ask Mingi while crouching down at the end of your row, carefully digging holes for your plants.

“No, not today. Why, did you need help with anything?” He inquired.

“Oh, no I don’t need anything! I was just curious,” you reply in a quiet tone, you felt redness creeping up your chest in embarrassment. You look down and continue to be overly enthusiastic while digging your plants new homes. You really needed to learn how to carry a conversation better, cringing while pulling one of your strawberry plants out of the plastic temporary pot, before squishing up the roots and bit and loosening the dirt they had been living in for who knows how long, before placing the plant into the hole and layering the dirt compactly. You continued this process for a couple more plants, in relative silence except for the quiet humming you heard coming from Mingi. You take a quick break now that you had completed at least half, walking over next to Petunia who was conveniently lying next to Mingi. Opening your water bottle, you pull out a silicone bowl from the tote bag you brought. Making sure Petunia had enough to drink, you sat down next to her. You took a few gulps from your water bottle while petting Petunia. You try not to pay attention as you feel Mingi looking at you, instead staring off into the distance at another one of your favorite places in the apartment complex - a willow tree with a bench under it that sat next to a small pond. From the corner of your eye, you see Mingi pulling something from his bag, before turning back to you with a smile.

“Y/n, your neck is looking quite red. I have this sunscreen, would you mind if I put some on you,” Mingi asks while shaking the small bottle. It takes you a moment to catch your breath before you answer him, and you see him already pouring a small amount on the tops of his fingers before kneeling next to you.

“Umm, yeah go ahead. I meant to put some on but must’ve forgotten,” you reply to him while pulling your hair off of your neck, not wanting to get sunscreen in it if you could help it. Even kneeling next to you, you felt dwarfed by him. It made your heart race a little, being this close to someone you knew so little about. You liked it though, it made a spark heat up in your tummy and your cheeks redden even more. He leaned in over you, gently running his fingers over your neck to distribute the sunscreen. His hands were heavy on your shoulders, and you could feel his fingers dipping into the top of your shirt. His hands dwarfed your neck, and your imagination was running wild. Wetting your lips you inhaled softly, and you felt his fingers draw back a little. You weren’t silly, you knew he was only doing that because of the sunscreen, but it still left you with butterflies. Mingi’s hands slowly stilled on your neck, fingers draped over both sides. You look up at him and froze in shocked to see how close your faces had become. You let your eyes run over his face, from his defined jaw to his full pink lips, his high cheekbones to his dark eyes and cute mole underneath. You stay that way for a moment, before the eye contact he’s making with you snaps you back to Earth.

“You’re cheeks look a bit red too, would you like to put some more on,” Mingi says with a smirk, knowing full well your cheeks were red for another reason. Eyes wide, you duck your head and let your hair fall back over your shoulders while pulling away from him slightly, his hands falling from your neck and into his lap.

“Thanks, but no thanks,” you say after clearing your throat. You hadn’t felt this sort of tension with someone ever, and it left every cell in your body on fire. You couldn’t help but get mad at yourself, letting your head win over whatever whacky shit your heart was telling you. You shot Mingi an awkward smile before standing up and going back to begin planting the last couple of plants you had, all the while repeating in your head you’re in a committed relationship [y/n] what the hell is wrong with you - regardless of the fact that your committed relationship was in shambles and you felt more alone than ever. You were better than that. Brow furrowed and head in the clouds, you finish your gardening faster than you thought you were capable. Watering them quickly, you collect the supplies you brought with you before clipping on Petunia’s leash.

“Thank you again for letting me use this Mingi,” you say while handing him back the black trowel in your hand. “It’s time for Petunia to eat, so we’re going to head home. It was nice to see you,” you politely said while giving him a smile.

“No problem at all [Y/n], if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask,” he replies, smiling back at your from where he was trimming his plants. You wave at him quickly before you turn around and start the walk back to your apartment. You clip the garden gate behind you, Petunia looking back at Mingi as if he were her long lost lover. You pat her head and look back behind you as well with the excuse in your mind that you’re making sure you didn’t leave anything behind - definitely not checking out the maintenance man that’s caught your eye. To your surprise when you looked over your shoulder Mingi was already looking at you. He waves at you with a grin, your deer in the headlights look amusing him. You whip your head around and briskly walk home, practically dragging Petunia along with you. She comes along reluctantly, the two of you tired from your day in the sun.

~-~-~-~-~-~

Mingi POV

He had no idea what he was in for the day he accepted the job as the maintenance man at the Utopia complex. While there were only 75 units, it was sitting on 50 acres of land, making it a hidden getaway with plenty of amenities. The residents were almost all exclusive, doctors, lawyers, people who had the credentials to get in. He never expected to see a face like yours there. He only recently started on, with the order to fix your dishwasher falling in his first couple of months. You weren’t the typical tenant - young being the first thing to come to his mind. You were clearly accomplished in order to live in Utopia, and that only made his curiosity run wild with the ideas of what you did for a career. Clearly something more substantial than him, although he did have the perk of being paid to live at the complex so in his head that constitutes as a step up from your average handyman. While he didn’t have the book smarts that many of the tenants had, he had more than enough street smarts and everyday knowledge to make up for it.

The first time he saw you, his shock and embarrassment almost sent him crawling six feet under. Whoever this Lee Seo-jun was he had no common sense leaving out the bit where someone would be home - let alone that someone being the closest thing he had seen to a goddess before.

After that first encounter, and seeing you in that fluffy pink towel, you were stuck in his head for days. You had set his bones on edge and he found himself looking out for you around the complex constantly, hoping to get a glimpse of you. He loved seeing your smile when walking around with Petunia, who he had an affinity for as well. He’d always wanted a golden retriever, and she was the cutest one he had gotten to see in person.

The afternoon you had come to the community garden made him feel the warm rush of affection building up inside him. He normally silently despised when others were around when he was gardening, it was his time for fully relaxing. He didn’t mind when you appeared with your shy smile, Petunia bounding away from you to greet him. He didn’t mind letting you borrow the tools he would never normally let anyone touch. Mingi wasn’t the most extroverted when around new people, but he felt comfortable sitting in silence while you planted. When he offered to put sunscreen on you, he knew it was your blush and not a burn from the sun, but he couldn’t stop himself from taking the chance. Getting to feel your smooth skin under his and see your dainty features up close only sealed the idea that you would one day be his in his mind. Whoever this Seo-Jim character was clearly not giving [Y/n] the attention she needed, and he could tell you weren’t infatuated with him. Mingi felt his curiosity about you growing more and more every day.

~-~-~-~-~-

[y/n] pov

The summer was creeping by, monsoon season hitting and turning everything around you into mud. You had seen Mingi around the complex multiple times, frequently sharing pleasantries with him while Petunia got in her dose of unlimited pets. You had seen him around the community garden, he had been caring for your neighbors plants while she was on vacation. Despite the excess of rain the plants growth wasn’t slowing, some small berry buds popping up on your strawberry bush. There were even days where you would swing by the garden after a long day of work and your plants would already be watered for you. Mingi’s thoughtfulness always put a smile on your face.

Petunia had somehow convinced you to take her out on a walk despite the slight drizzle. At the very least, the early afternoon clouds kept the sun from beating down on the two of you. You walked through one of the hikes that was offered by the complex, a normally enjoyable dirt trail with plenty of foliage. By the end of the hike, the rain had started coming down in sheets, the dirt trail turning into slick mud. You couldn’t be mad, in the moments you had slipped and fallen into the mud and watched Petunia have the time of her life, you laughed more than you had in ages. You were both soaked to the bone and covered in mud.

Once arriving home, you wiped Petunia down quickly and had her stay in the foyer before wiping yourself down in a hurry, changing out of your sopping wet clothes and throwing on a dry dirty teeshirt and some pajama shorts. Petunia was in desperate need of a bath, and you would get her clean and situated before cleaning yourself up. You threw your clothes in the washer and had Petunia follow you into the bathroom to give her a spa sesh.

An hour and a few pep talks for Petunia later you had her long golden locks brushed out and shining in the late afternoon sunshine that was pouring through your open living room window. Of course now that you were home and remotely dry the sun started coming out. Throwing the damp, muddy towels in the washer, you start it up before going into the kitchen to make some quick ramen. Petunia was now lazing around on the couch in the living room, while you put on some music and made your food. You had your eyes closed for a moment, dancing around the kitchen to one of your favorite songs. You heard Petunia let out a bark from where she was laying and you spin around opening your eyes to see her looking at Mingi through the open living room window. He had a toolbox in his hand and a goofy smile on his face, holding up a hand he waves to you. You let out a small laugh and wave back, an embarrassed smile and light blush taking over your face. He continues on through the complex, stopping a few doors down from yours and knocking. Mrs. Han opens the door with a big smile on her face, clearly excited to see Mingi. He’s immediately ushered in, and you walk over to Petunia and rub her head.

“You really like him, huh pretty?” Petunia barks and paws at your hand, rolling over with her tongue hanging out for a belly rub. “Yeah, I get it. He seems pretty comforting, huh?” You lean over and give her a big smooch before laying your head on her belly, getting a quick cuddle in. The timer for your ramen was about to go off, so you get up and put it all into a bowl. Grabbing some chopsticks, you start eating the hot food while scrolling on your phone, music still playing softly in the background.

A little more than halfway through your bowl of ramen, you hear a loud thumping and scraping coming from the washer. Leaving your ramen on the counter you put your phone in your pocket and walk over to the washer. You figure it probably just has to do with the towels being all uneven, making your washer mess up with the spin cycle. Your turn it off for a moment, letting any residual water drain and wait for it to unlock. You hear the click and open up the lid of the washer, and are confused by what you see. The shirt you were wearing while hiking - one that your now deceased father had given you before he had passed away- had been sucked halfway through one of the walls of the washer, and trying to tug on it didn’t pull it loose at all. Despite it being just a shirt, one that you could probably find online and order, you didn’t want anything to happen to it, it was drenched in sentimental value for you. You had fond memories of your dad taking you outdoors wearing that shirt, then years later him handing it off to you to wear while going on your outdoor adventures.

Determined to get it out without tearing it, you start to pull out the sopping wet towels and toss the wet items in your empty kitchen sink leaving just the shirt hanging out of the sidewall of your washer. You run out to your small storage closet outside and grab your small toolbox, pull out a screwdriver and get to work pulling apart the washer. You weren’t really thinking of the process of putting it back together, you were just pulling parts off and compiling all the small pieces together by style. You had a pretty good memory and convinced yourself that you’d remember which parts went where, but in all honesty the tunnel vision from the panic of losing your beloved shirt had set in and you likely wouldn’t remember any of it.

Regardless, you kept pulling parts off the washer, finally getting in closer to the walls of the washer. Taking one of the side wall off, you were met with a peculiar sight - more than just your teeshirt had been caught inside the walls of the washer. They didn’t look like your clothing items, which was weird considering this had been your first purchase after moving into this condo - a brand new washer and dryer set. The only people who had used them were you and Seo-Jun as you had put your foot down when it came to doing his laundry.

Gently lifting the teeshirt out you stand up while examining it, walking in towards the kitchen where the light was. It seemed to be in the same condition you had last seen it, so you let out a sigh of relief. You fold it and place it on the counter of your kitchen before reaching into your cabinet and pulling out gallon ziploc baggies and tongs. Who knew how long those clothing items had been in there and what kinds of molds were growing on them.

Walking back over to the washer, you use the tongs to pick up one of the items - a pair of lacy underwear that were bright blue, definitely not yours and never had been. Putting them in a ziploc bag, you go back in for the second to last item that’s been held hostage between the washer walls - a leopard print thong. Placing it in the second ziploc, you return one last time to the washer, plucking out yet another pair of women’s underwear that weren’t yours. Placing it in the last baggie, you seal them all and examine them thoroughly. Two of them were extra smalls, and one an extra large. You were a medium/large, so there’s another strike against them being yours.

As much as you didn’t want to be the crazy girlfriend, clearly something was not adding up here. Unless Seo-Jun all of a sudden had a secret kink for wearing women’s underwear, this had to come from another women, or multiple. Heated, you leave the washer and it’s disturbing contents where they are before making your way to Seo-Jun’s room. You open the door and first start to go through his closet, looking through the pockets of his jackets and pulling out receipts for dinners and movies and coffee that were all dated within the last year. Seo-Jun had spend much of the last year ‘working’ and ‘traveling’, and while you knew he was independent you should have seen the signs of your failing relationship. You pile up the receipts in your hand and go through his dresser drawers, not getting far before finding the open box of condoms with opened wrappers crumpled up in the box. You felt pathetic, naive in thinking that the two of you were just working very hard to save enough to create a family together, when in reality who knows what he was really up to while you spent your life pent up, working and creating a home for a family that will never be. The anger made tears boil up in your eyes, seeping over and falling down your cheeks. The hatred that you had built up for Seo-Jun over the past couple of years was finally coming to fruition, you actually had a reason to hate him now.

You trudge back over to the kitchen and place the receipts in another ziploc bag before grabbing a black marker and labeling it ‘exhibit a’, then return to the washer where the other ziploc bags were waiting and labeling them ‘exhibit b’ and ‘exhibit c’. Sitting in front of your washer on the floor, the drama of almost losing your favorite shirt to discovering rock solid proof that Seo-Jun was cheating on you leaving you feeling drained and sad and angry. Now here you were with a washer that you had to put together and the knowledge that you’d have to confront Seo-Jun and end your relationship. Leaning your head up against the cool outside of your washer, you let the tears of sadness and resentment flow freely.

You sat there for a few minutes before your eyes dry up and you start feeling dull and numb. You stand and grab the ziplocks of evidence before dropping them on your coffee table, then turning into your kitchen to pour yourself a chilled glass of red wine. Petunia is napping away on your couch, dead to the world and oblivious to the turmoil you’ve been going through. You return to the disassembled washer and sit cross legged in front of it, gulping down some of your wine before sighing and pulling out your phone. You wouldn’t be able to get this shit back together if you wanted to, and even if you did it wouldn’t be for days. It was still before 5 in the afternoon, so you call the apartment mainline and click through the system options to get to the maintenance line, the line rings a few times before you hear the click of it being picked up.

“Utopia Apartments Maintenance - this is Mingi, how can I help you,” you hear his deep tones come through your phone.

“Hi Mingi, this is [Y/n]. Are you by any chance available to stop by before you’re off today,” you ask him, cringing at the knowledge that you have to tell him about why the washer was even disassembled in the first place.

“Hi [Y/n]! Of course, I can stop by in just a bit. I’m still over at Mrs. Han’s house a few doors down from you so let me finish up here and I’ll head over,” Mingi replies. You can hear Mrs. Han fussing over him in the background, and it makes you let out a small smile.

“Thanks, Mingi. I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon,” you trail off, taking a sip of your wine.

“See you in a few minutes, bye [Y/n],” Mingi says as he hangs up.

You sit still for a moment, looking into the red wine with a hazy look, thinking about how you didn’t want your embarrassing and total waste of time relationship to keep you down in the dumps. You had come to terms with confronting him, leaving him, and rebuilding your life on your own. You’ve gotten so used to being alone the last few years, this wouldn’t even be a big change for you. You weren’t even angry over the fact that you’d have to end the relationship, you were more angry about the fact that he was so blatantly disrespectful to the point where he was bringing women into a home he didn’t even contribute to.

You sit in silence for a few more minutes before hearing a gentle knocking at your door. Despite his large stature, his demeanor was that of a gentle giant - everything you noticed him do was soft despite looking hard. Still clutching your wine, you use your left hand to pull open the door. There Mingi stands, his bulky frame taking up the majority of the doorway. You look up into his eyes, and he’s looking down at you with a quirked smile on his full lips. He lets out a soft chuckle, tugging on a strand of hair hanging down by your face, pulling off a bit of dried dirt from the mud you and Petunia had encountered.

“Hi there, what happened here?” he inquires softly, his sweet eyes looking down at you.

“You would honestly not believe the day I’ve had, Mingi. Come in and I’ll tell you all about it,” you reply, opening the door fully and gesturing him in. He steps into your home, his left hand occupied by the toolbox he was carrying and his right carrying what looked like enough food to feed 10 people, curtesy of Mrs. Han. His eyes immediately flash over to the partially disassembled washer, and he looks down at you with a look of astonishment, eyes wide and mouth hanging open slightly.

“Yeah, I know what it looks like. I promise I had a reason for doing it, and I could probably put it back together but you would definitely do it faster and more correct-” You ramble on for a moment, your anxiety of why he might think getting the better of you. Mingi cuts you off from continuing your spiel, lightly gripping your upper arm and smiling at you.

“Hey, don’t even worry about it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. I can fix that. Why don’t you go enjoy a hot shower and get the dirt off of you while I fix this up,” Mingi suggests, brushing his fingertips down your arms leaving warm tingles over where they touched. His fingers brush off more dirt as they trail down, and you both let out soft laughs as the dirt falls to the ground. You blush as you look back up into his eyes.

“Thank you, Mingi. I’ll be quick I promise! If Petunia bothers you, you can put her into the spare bedroom,” you reply as you walk off to your bathroom. You turn the shower on first before standing in front of the mirror, watching yourself down the last of your wine. Your hair is frizzy from the rain, you have mud droplets on your face and neck, and some smeared on your arms and legs. Your eyes are red rimmed from crying, and your makeup is smeared underneath. You cringed in embarrassment, setting down your wine glass and stripping out of your dirty baggy teeshirt and shorts. Stepping into the steam, you shower thoroughly but quickly, not wanting Mingi to be left all alone but also still wanting to smell nice and feel clean. You rinsed and turned off the water, opening the curtain and wrapping yourself up in your fluffy pink towel. Pulling open your pajama drawer you groan audibly and roll your eyes. You needed to do your laundry, and had nothing that was clean and loungy - just lace hemmed slip sleep dresses. As comfortable as they are, they're a bit more intimate that you would normally wear around someone else. Honestly, after the day you’ve had you don’t really give a fuck about giving Mingi the wrong impression and decide to pull on a black one. You brush through your hair and do a quick skincare routine before grabbing your wine glass and heading out of the bathroom.

Mingi is bent over the washer, the sound of his tools clanking against the metal ringing in your ears. From where you’re standing it looked like the dryer was almost completely put back together.

“Mingi, can I offer you a drink? I have wine, beer, soda, juices, water…” you trail off, pulling open the door of the drive to pour yourself another glass of chilled red wine.

“Uhh yeah, I’ll take a beer,” Mingi replies in his deep voice. You grab a beer and close the fridge, walking over to the washer and waiting for him to grab it. He looks up from where he was screwing in one of the sidewalls, eyes widening and standing up ramrod straight. He takes in what your wearing, looking from the crown of your wet hair to your light blue painted toes. You see him such in a deep breath, chest puffing out slightly and shoulders broadening even more than they already were. He reaches a hand out to take the beer from you, fingers skimming against yours purposefully while making eye contact with you. You grin at him mischievously, and he lets out a little laugh.

“I’m almost done here, just have a few more bolts and screws to put it back together. I can be out of your hair in a few minutes,” Mingi says while cracking open his beer, taking a few gulps.

“Are you almost off for the night,” you ask him while walking over to your couch, giving the still sleepy Petunia a pat on the belly before grabbing your nintendo switch remotes and turning on the console.

“Yep! When I finish up here I’m technically off unless there’s some sort of emergency,” Mingi replies to your question, screwing in the last few bolts and screws.

“Well, if you don’t have anything going on, do you want to hang out for a bit? It’s no fun constantly winning against NPC’s on Mario Kart,” you offer to him, the wine making you a bit more bold than normal, holding up your switch remotes to show him while turning the game on.

“Well, prepare to get your ass beat [Y/n]. You’re in luck too, Mrs. Han kept me hostage for a while today but luckily I got enough food for an army out of it. If you’d like we can heat some up and have dinner together,” Mingi offers back to you with the tips of his ears red and a beaming smile on his face. You nod enthusiastically at the offer of food and set up Mario Kart for two players while Mingi closes the lid of the washer and sets it on a cleaning run to make sure it works.

Mingi heads into the kitchen to wash his hands and pull some food out of the bags. You stand from the couch and head into the kitchen to help him get bowls and utensils out. You refill your wine and grab an extra beer for Mingi, bringing it over to the coffee table. You hear him dishing out the food and putting it in the microwave, heating it up for a few minutes before the beep goes off. Mingi brings the food over the the coffee table in front of the couch, setting it down and getting on his knees to give Petunia some pets and kisses. She loves it and wags her tail furiously, hitting you in the face a few times. Mingi finds this hilarious and the two of you break out into uncontrollable giggles.

Petunia lays back down on the corner of the couch, sprawled out so the only spot available for Mingi to sit is directly next to you. He moves in and sits down, his thick thighs and broad shoulders pressing into your space a bit, not that you minded at all. The daydreams you’ve had about those thighs spring into your mind and you shift slightly in your seat, the lace hem of your sleep dress riding up a bit. Keep the dirty thoughts on the downlow [y/n] get it together goddamit you think, thighs pressing together before Mingi breaks your concentration, handing you a steaming bowl of food. Excitedly, you take a few bites before looking over at Mingi. He’s watching you eat and you freeze with your cheeks full, looking like a chipmunk. He smiles and pokes your full cheek.

“You’re cute with your cheeks all puffed up like that,” he says in a quiet tone that makes your cheeks heat up. It’s almost like they’re in a perpetual state of redness when you’re near him. You chew quickly and swallow your bite before giving him a shy smile.

“Thanks Mingi, you’re sweet. This is really good, you’ll have to thank Mrs. Han for me,” you laugh out, breaking the slight tension between the two of you. You both eat quickly to the music of Mario Kart, filling up before placing the bowls back onto your coffee table.

Mingi catches sight of the “evidence” bags on the coffee table and looks at you questionably. You spend the next thirty minutes explaining to him the entire situation from beginning to end and why you needed his help in the first place. You tell him all about your sleazy boyfriend and you can see his frustration and anger settling into his face. You explain that you’re going to leave him as soon as you can, but you have a business trip for the next few days and that the first time you’ll see him in weeks is the day you return.

“Speaking of my business trip, I have to fly meaning Petunia doesn't get to come with me. I know this is weird but I know I can trust you, and so does Petunia. Would you be willing to dogsit her for the next few days? You could take her home with you or she could stay here and you come and check on her, whatever is easiest for you. And of course I’ll pay you-” Mingi cuts you off with his raised hand and a smile.

“Of course! I’d be happy to hang out with Petunia for a few days. Don’t worry about paying me, your company and hers is more than enough,” he says while reaching over to give Petunia some love. You thank him profusely, happy to finally have someone in your life you feel like you can rely on. You tell him about the spare key in the fake plant by your door and let him know the time you’ll be leaving tomorrow.

The two of you spend the next few minutes choosing your characters and customizing your karts before getting onto the racing screen. You let Mingi pick his favorite races first, and the two of you play through the four of them. In the end Mingi ends up winning the first round. He doesn’t let you live it down for a moment, gloating over his win and running around the room in excitement. Laughter is ringing off the walls of your home, making it feel the most alive it’s felt since you’ve moved in. You laugh along with him and he collapses next to you on the couch, thick thighs pressed against your bare ones. He takes his hat off finally, and you gasp as you notice it. His hair is pink - bright neon pink and cropped short. Your hand comes up to your mouth, fingers running lightly along your bottom lip.

“Mingi, your hair! It’s pink!! Oh wow, it suits you so much,” you exclaim, reaching a hand out to run over the bottom strands of hair and running your fingers though. Mingi smiles and closes his eyes, pressing his head deeper into your fingers.

“Yeah, my friends dared me to do it and I’ll never pass up a dare,” he chuckles rubbing his large hand over the top and messing it up. The chaotic strands made him look even more endearing, and you take your hand away and smile deeply at him, lost in thought.

he is so handsome, how is he here sitting on my couch? what did i do to deserve his cherub cheeked smile and kind gestures…

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear the beeping of a race starting up. Shocked, you turn to the screen to see Mingi has picked another set of races and they were about to begin. In your distraction he thought he could pull on over on you.

“You cheater! It’s so on, prepare to lose,” you taunt Mingi and focus in on the races. It’s a set that you love and have played many times, so you knew you could beat him. Focusing hard on the race, you do end up beating Mingi, but it was pretty close and only due to a few well timed blue shells.

At the scene of your victory, with your character standing on the highest podium and Mingi’s on the podium just lower than yours, you stand up and jump around, teasing Mingi in the same way he did to you. He laughs and catches ahold of your hand, pulling you down onto the couch next to him, your shoulders bumping roughly as you almost fall into his lap. Your hand stops your descent by gripping onto his thigh and god fucking damn you were so right about their muscularity. Your giggling tapers off and you notice his hand on your thigh as well, his silver rings cold against your skin. The sound of MarioKart drowns out and your eyes trail up his chest and neck, eyes slowing at the cute moles that decorate his skin. Your eyes trail over his smiling lips and up to his dark eyes that stare right back into yours. You feel like he’s the first person to actually look at you and see you, your breath getting caught in your chest at the sight of him so close to you.

Your mind is overwhelmed with your senses screaming about him. His warm body heat and the scent of him encapsulating your bodies in their own little bubble, his stare and warm fingers resting against your thighs had a vicious heat settling deep in you. You can’t stop yourself from the visceral reaction your body has to him, leaning in and pressing your lips against his. All you can hear is the rushing, pounding heartbeat in your ears as his hand grips onto your thigh firmly. His other hand slips behind your head, threading his fingers through your hair to pull you closer. Your hand leaves his thigh and meets up with your other hand wrapped around the back of his neck. He shifts you over to where you’re straddling his lap, lips never separating. Your fingers run through his bright pink hair and he lets out a low groan, his hands tightening around your hips. That groan is possibly the hottest thing you’ve ever heard, but it snaps you back to reality. Your eyes open quickly and your hands leave his hair. You quickly pull yourself off his lap as panic starts to settle into your nerves.

oh fuck what have I done? I’m still in a relationship and here I am throwing myself at Mingi. This is so embarrassing.

Mingi stands from the couch with concern in his eyes, his hands reaching out towards you. Tears spring to your eyes as you back away, hands raised to keep your distance.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen. I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you said to him, hands shaking and wrapping around yourself. Mingi steps in closer and rests his hand on your arm.

“[Y/n], it’s okay, really. It’s not a big deal, we can just forget it ever happened,” Mingi says somberly. His words make your stomach clench in an uncomfortable way, not happy about them. You didn’t want to forget that it happened, it was probably the best kiss you’d ever had. Mingi pulls you into a hug and you let him, sinking into his chest as his arms wrap around you.

“It’s probably best I head out now anyways. Let me know if you have any issues with your washer and I’ll come by” Mingi says, unwrapping himself from you and heading towards the door.

“Wait, Mingi,” you call to him, reaching out and grasping onto his hand, “I know that I probably ruined everything by kissing you and I’m sorry. You’re the first person I’ve met that I’ve instantly felt comfortable with. I really don’t want you to think differently of me.”

Mingi laces his fingers through yours and gives you a comforting smile.

“Don’t worry, [Y/n]. I won’t look at you any differently,” Mingi says and detaches his hand from yours. He gives Petunia some pets and tells her he’ll see her tomorrow. Mingi grabs his things and slips his shoes on.

“Thank you again for helping me, and for watching Petunia. I really owe you one,” you say to Mingi. He pulls you into another soft hug, bidding you safe travels before leaving for the night. He leaves with a smile, and you close the door behind him, sliding down it and sitting on the floor.

You don’t want to think about the way you’ve felt more with Mingi in hours spent together than years with Seo-Jun. You don’t want to think about how easy it was for you to kiss him, and you definitely didn’t want to think about the way his firm muscles felt beneath your hands. The conflicting emotions inside you from simultaneously loving being touched by him and feeling scummy because you weren’t technically single made a few stray tears drip down your face. Petunia came up to where you were sitting against the door and gave you some sweet puppy kisses, lightening the weight on your shoulders. There was nothing out there better than a dog at helping with emotions. You stand to go pack your travel bag and Petunia follows, climbing up onto your bed and watching you as you pack.

“You’re going to have such a great time Petunia. Mingi is going to give you all sorts of love and attention and I’ll be back before you know it,” you explain to her. She snorts and wags her tail, almost as if she knew you were talking about Mingi. You finish up your packing and leave your bags by the door before crawling into bed with Petunia. You had to leave early in the morning, and wanted to get as much cuddle time in with her. Eventually you drift off to sleep with tear stained cheeks and sadness weighing you down.

~-~-~-~-

Mingi POV

Mingi could understand the inner turmoil you were going through. While he hadn’t been in this sort of situation personally, he had a group of best friends and statistically speaking at least one had been through something similar. It seemed to Mingi that men like Seo-Jun are increasing in the population, and Mingi just did not understand their mindset at all. To have someone like you doing everything for them and yet still being unfaithful. When you had told him about the “evidence” that you had found he had a hard time keeping his temper in check. He could understand your anger at Seo-Jun bringing women into your home, he could have laughed at the stupidity and carelessness that Seo-Jun showed but didn’t want you to talk it the wrong way.

As disgusted as he was with Seo-Jun he was grateful for his underwhelming presence in your life and for giving Mingi a chance to connect with you. Getting to know you felt right to him, it felt like he knew you on a molecular level. The atoms and cells in his body gave all of their attention to you, and stood at attention whenever your soft hands would graze against his skin. Feeling your fingers running through his hair when you discovered the neon pink color left him floating on cloud nine.

He knew he’d wanted to kiss you from the moment you had shared in the garden, and he struggled with the intensity of his desire for you the evening you spent together. He had to start a new game of Mario Kart to keep himself from pulling you into his lap and making you sit there for hours. Mingi was doing his best to respect your boundaries, but when you initiated that kiss with him every sensible thought he had in his head flew out the window. His hands felt so big around your waist, and your hands felt so small against his skin. Mingi was surprised how quickly he gave into you considering how difficult it was to find someone to keep his attention for more than a few hours. Now here you were, taking up space in his mind for months on end. He didn’t mind having you there, though.

Petunia was easy to have around. She was the sweetest thing, and had no problem meeting new people. The first time Yunho had seen her he moped for ten minutes about being replaced before discovering Petunia knew how to high five and was entertained for hours. Out of all of the friends Mingi brought over, Petunia still clearly liked Mingi the best and he was slightly smug about it.

The afternoon before you were set to come home, Mingi had run out of food for Petunia and was stepping into your place to grab some quickly before dinner time. Opening the door, he notices some clothing strewn about the floor of your place, but he thinks nothing of it - maybe you were a messy packer or running late, who was he to judge? Closing the door behind him quietly Mingi heads into your kitchen, pulling out the ziploc from his pocket and opening up the cabinet that has Petunia’s food in it. Opening up the bag, Mingi’s daydreaming abound how domestic this was, how he would love to take care of you and feed you meals in this kitchen, how he would love to fuck you against the kitchen table. Mingi thinks he hears moaning, but shakes his head free from his daydreaming and gets back to the dog food. Portioning out enough for the next couple meals, and even extra just in case, Mingi’s putting the scoop back into the back when his clumsy ass drops it. The clanging of the nice metal scoop you have echoes throughout the house and down the hallway. Mingi’s hears a man’s voice say what the fuck before a fully nude man enters the kitchen, eyes immediately drawn to Mingi’s large figure. Mingi can’t help but let out a laugh, his hands dropping back to close up the food bag and put it back into the cabinet nonchalantly.

“Excuse me, but who the fuck do you think you are and what the fuck are you doing in my house,” the man that could only be Seo-Jun questioned Mingi. Mingi barked out a loud laugh and raised his eyebrows, grinning at the man standing across from him.

“Oh, this is your house? Wow, I was so sure this was [Y/n]’s, I must have the wrong place and be getting the wrong dog food then,” Mingi can’t help but tease Seo-Jun, knowing and seeing exactly the type of person he is.

“Alright, you smug bastard. I don’t know why you’re here but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Seo-Jun says harshly, pointing toward the door. Mingi grabs his ziploc and raises his hands in the air, laughing quietly to himself as he starts heading to the door. As he’s nearing the door a woman, wrapped in the same fluffy pink towel he had first seen you in, walked up to Seo-Jun and clung to him like mold. Mingi was instantly uncomfortable, not wanting the sight to tarnish the memory of you that he has. Mingi fully sneers and scoffs at both of them, pulling the door open and shutting it loudly behind him.

Once Mingi is in the comfort of his own home, he greets Petunia before pulling his phone out and dialing your number. He had to let you know what he saw, and wanted to make sure you washed your towel before using it again. You pick up on the fourth ring.

“Mingi, hi! Is everything alright? Is Petunia okay?” you ask with concern lacing your voice.

“Hey, yeah everything is great! Petunia says hi and that she can’t wait to see you. I just wanted to talk to you about something really quick, do you have a minute?”

“Sure, I have nothing but time, I’m just waiting for my flight for a little bit longer. What’s going on?”

“So, Petunia needed a bit more food so I went over to your place to refill the ziploc you gave me. I was about to head out when Seo-Jun came out of your bedroom. I already know that Seo-Jun’s been a piece of shit to you, and I saw the proof today. He had another girl with him, and she was wrapped up in your cute pink towel. I’m really sorry, but I had to let you know before you went home,” Mingi explained to you.

“For fucks sake, I’m so tired of this. Thank you for telling me Mingi, I like knowing that you’re looking out for me. Would you mind keeping Petunia for just one more night? I’m going to talk to Seo-Jun tonight, and she really hates yelling,” you ask him, tense at what you knew you’d be coming home to. You hoped he at least had the decency to make sure she was out of the house before you got there.

“Of course, Petunia has a second home here with me forever. If my friends could they would take her home with them too, so really she has three potential homes,” Mingi laughs and tries his best to lighten your dark mood, “I’m going out for a few hours this evening with them, if you want I can swing by and see how you’re doing afterwards,” Mingi offers hopefully. He’s missed seeing your face and smile.

“Thank you Mingi, and thank you for offering. I think I’ll be okay tonight, but I’ll see you and Tunie bright and early tomorrow morning. My flight’s boarding so I have to go but again, thank you so much Mingi, I seriously owe you,” your melancholy voice trails off and he hears the rustling of you getting your things together.

“No problem [Y/n], let me know if you need anything at all, travel safe!”

“Bye, Mingi,” you say and he hears slight sniffling before the click of you hanging up on him. His heart plummets knowing that he had to tell you about Seo-Jun. As if Petunia can smell his sadness, she climbs into his lap and kisses his cheeks before rolling over for belly rubs. Mingi wraps his arms around her and gives a cuddle before rubbing her belly and putting on the anime he had been watching. He had around an hour to kill before his friends would be around to grab him for dinner, so three episodes and one potty break for Petunia later he was heading out on the town with his group of friends.

~-~-~-~-

[y/n] pov

Disassociating through the flight and car ride, you wheel your suitcase down the sidewalk leading to your home. The sky was getting dark as storm clouds rolled in, matching your mood perfectly. Standing in front of your door, you felt uncomfortable in your own skin, an anxious tickle running down your spine.

You unlock and open to door to the smell of something spicy being cooked in your kitchen. You roll your eyes at Seo-Jun’s behavior and set your bags down in the entry way. You head into the kitchen and see him standing over the stove, stirring whatever he was making. You clear your throat and stand against the doorway, arms crossed and already feeling guarded. He turns around to you and gives you a big fake smile, stepping towards you and holding his hands out as if to hug you. You step back and he drops his arms, a disgruntled look crossing his face.

“Wow, the first time you see me in ages and you can’t even hug me? What’s your problem?” Seo-Jun immediately criticizes.

“What’s my problem? Do you think I’m fucking stupid Seo-Jun? Do you really think you can bring girls into my house and I wouldn’t know about it?” you cut to the chase. You’re losing your temper quickly, sick of being disrespected by him. You see his face morph into a fake confusion.

“You’re crazy, I would never cheat on you. I can’t believe you would think that,” Seo-Jun says in a condescending tone.

“I’m not crazy, I have proof,” you say as you walk over to where you had your ‘evidence bags’ hidden, pulling them out and handing them to him, “None of these underwear are mine, and these receipts are for dates you’ve never taken me on. Not only that, but my friend who was here picking up dog food for Petunia saw it with his own eyes and told me,” you finish with a huff. Seo-Jun’s faced changed from confused to furious at the mention of Mingi.

“Oh, you mean the man that was in our house yesterday? He doesn’t know what he saw, he must be confused and lied to you,” he tries to make up more excuses.

“Mingi would never lie to me,” you refute, “he actually has respect for me, unlike you.” Seo-Jun takes a menacing step towards you, and as you go to step back he grabs onto your upper arm, gripping tightly enough to bruise.

“You think you’re so smart, huh? You’re too dumb to notice the cameras I’ve set up around this place, aren’t you? You think I didn’t see you fucking Mingi on our couch the other night? If anybody is the cheater here, it’s you,” Seo-Jun accuses, grip tightening even more and stepping to stand chest to chest with you. Your arm was aching, and you try to pull it free from his grip but you couldn’t, ending up with a nasty burning sensation on your arm.

“Fuck you Seo-Jun. I didn’t fuck Mingi, but maybe I should have. I definitely will now, considering our relationship is now over. I want you and your shit out of my house immediately,” you stand up for yourself, pushing your chest against his and standing up taller. He grabs onto your shoulders and shoves you harshly into the wall you’ve been trapped against. Your breath is knocked out of you, and before you can comprehend it he shoves you against the wall again, this time shoving your head into the wall hard. your vision goes spotty and you struggle to take in a breath.

“You’re a lying, cheating, worthless whore [Y/n]. I’m the best you’ve ever had, good luck finding anybody like me,” Seo-Jun’s voice was dark and deep, his right hand splayed across your face holding it against the wall. You were about to slip into a panic attack, your head was aching and your breathing difficult. The tears that had built up in your eyes spill over, streaming down your cheeks and making his hand slip off of your face slightly. This angers Seo-Jun further and he slams your face into the wall. Your vision crashes into blackness and you feel your consciousness slipping away. You barely feel his hands leaving you as your limp body slides onto the floor.

You wake up disoriented and aching on the floor of your hallway. You feel warmth on the side of you head, reaching a hand up you notice you’re eyebrow has been bleeding for a little while. All you wanted to do was curl up into the fetal position on the floor and dissociate, but you didn’t feel safe and wanted to see where Seo-Jun had weaseled off to.

Pushing yourself off the floor, the vertigo makes you sway for a moment before you brace yourself on the wall. Looking down the hallways towards the room you notice both doors open and items strewn throughout the hallway. Slowly walking towards the room and gaining your bearings, you see that Seo-Jun had taken the items that were valuable to him, drawers empty of personal belongings and the closet door open to show it empty besides the mess of hangers. You peek into your room and see that he had definitely trashed it but it didn’t look like he had taken anything of yours. You’re distraught at the knowledge that you’d have to clean up this disaster, but you also felt a heavy weight lift off your shoulders knowing you were alone. You walk into the kitchen then living room, noticing that while it was in the same trashed state, nothing important looked broken or stolen. All you want is to cuddle Petunia and sob in bed, but checking the clock you see that you weren’t really out for all that long, between and hour or two. You’re not even sure if Mingi is home from his night out with his friends, but decide that you need to see Petunia to relive some of this angst. Slipping on some shoes you grab your keys and jean jacket before leaving your home, locking the door behind you. You’d have to get Mingi to change the locks so you didn’t have to worry about Seo-Jun making any unwelcome appearances.

The air was nice and cool during your walk over to Mingi’s place. The flowers were in full bloom and were enjoying the light the moon was giving off. Even with the slight throbbing your head felt, you let a small smile slip onto your face while looking up at the stars. Apartment 1117 had finally come into view, and you rushed up to knock on the door. You could make out Petunia barking from inside, but there were no other sounds or lights coming from Mingi’s place. You didn’t really want to go back to your place right now, so instead you plopped down onto Mingi’s front porch steps and pulled your jacket around you, looking back up into the sky. You felt more tears build up in your eyes and you let them fall freely down your face, surprised that you were even able to cry anymore considering how dehydrated you must be. Staring up into the stars and moon, you catch sight of a shooting star and make a quick wish on it

i wish i can find happiness and love without judgement

You lose track of time while waiting for Mingi. Petunia’s barks have settled down long ago, but you could still occasionally hear a whine coming from inside Mingi’s place. You knew she must be able to smell you and felt bad teasing her with your scent. You resolve yourself to wait five more minutes before heading back to your nightmare of a home. As soon as you decide that, you hear heavy footfall and a few rowdy voices coming up to Mingi’s house. You immediately cringe, feeling uncomfortable with meeting Mingi’s friends in your distraught state.

“[Y/n]?” you hear Mingi’s deep voice call out to you. You look up from the sidewalk and see him standing directly in front of you with four other people. You make eye contact with him and give an awkward smile.

“Hi, Mingi,” you say while standing up, his eyes catching sight of the dried blood running down the side of your face.

“What the fuck happened to you,” he says harshly, his hand coming up to reach for your face but you cringe away from him. His eyes get sad and he withdraws his hand.

“I’m really sorry to interrupt your night Mingi. I was really hoping I could see Petunia,” you say looking down at the pavement and peeking up at him through your eyelashes. You see his friends huddled up behind him, whispering quietly between each other and frequently looking your way. You feel awkward and out of place, and it makes you want to curl in on yourself. Mingi reached his hand out and grasps yours, fingers intertwining.

“Of course you can see her, I know she’s been missing you and is excited to see you. Wait here just one moment while I send my friends home, I’ll be right back,” Mingi says while going to turn away from you. You pull his hand back slightly towards you and he looks questionably into your eyes.

“It’s okay Mingi, I don’t want to ruin your friends’ night out. I can just go home,” you say to him in a quiet tone.

“No chance, [Y/n]. You’re more important, just give me one sec,” Mingi smiles reassuringly at you, giving your hand a squeeze before dropping it and approaching his friends. You could tell they were giving him shit and you felt bad, not knowing they were really giving him shit about having the girl he would not shut up about sitting on his porch. Mingi shuts down their gossiping and whispering and pushes them off back towards the car they arrived in. They leave begrudgingly and Mingi returns to your side, rethreading his fingers through yours and pulling his keys out to unlock his door. He tugs you inside and turns the lights on, shutting and locking the door behind you. You can hear the scraping of nails on the hardwood floor as Petunia comes barreling at you, jumping on you and knocking you down to your butt. You let out a soft giggle that turns into hiccups as you cry and bury your face into her neck. It’s wyirt for a moment before Mingi crouches down beside the two of you and rubs your back soothingly.

“I’ve got my first aid kit here, is it okay if I take a look at your cut,” Mingi asks while pulling out antibacterial wipes and butterfly bandages. You nod and lift your face up to look at him, eyes locking in the small space between the two of you. He gently dabs at your cut while you sniffle, wiping the tears from your cheeks as he’s cleaning you up. He places the bandages across the cut, sealing it from the air. You feel your energy deplete as the two of you are sitting there, wanting nothing more than to crawl into a warm bed and dream of anything but this evening. Mingi double checks to make sure the adages will stick well, and grips your chin in his hand lightly to take a look at your face and to make sure there are no other wounds he needs to look at. He sees some dark bruising and scrapes, but nothing more serious than that. Mingi releases his grip on your chin and wraps his arm around you, pulling you into his chest where his smell and warmth helps your body to relax.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, okay? It doesn’t matter to me, all that matters is that you’re safe and sound. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again [Y/n], I promise,” Mingi whispers in your ear, pulling you close and kissing the top of your head. Your exhaustion is catching up to you, and you feel Mingi rocking you slightly, adding to your comfort and feeling of safety, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you tonight [Y/n]. You’re mine now, and I’ll protect you every minute from here on out, don’t worry.” You drift off to sleep at his sweet words, finally able to find comfort in his warm arms.

~-~-~-~

[a/n: thank you so much for reading!!! i struggled with the ending on this for ages. could potentially have a pt.2? lmk what you thought!!]

#ateez #atz #ateez imagine #atz imagine #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #/mine #atinywriter #mingi imagine

[loki-cees-all]

Chapter 7 - All the Tiring Time Between {TLTGYA - Post!TVA Loki x OFC Longfic}

Previous Chapter / TLTGYA Masterlist / A03 Link / Next Chapter

Pairing : Post-TVA!Loki x Oliviette (OFC)

Chapter Summary : Sometimes the sharpest boundaries require the gentlest touch.

Chapter W/c : 8.7k words

Chapter Tags / Content : Angst (as always), brief mentions of blood and injuries. Also there's a bunch of Tesseract lore and Loki's history with Thanos that I really got carried away with while writing this.

18+ Only - Minors DNI

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

The silence in the cell was electrifyingly tense, and Loki wished he had something else to focus his attention on. 

His jaw ached as he took another bite of the flavorless, perplexing bread that was both stale and damp at the same time. He should have been grateful for it and its distraction, despite the woman having offered it without even so much as looking at him. But it just reminded him of the year he’d spent with the Mad Titan: Wretched. Forsaken. Totally and completely hopeless. 

Loki tried desperately not to think about it, but it was getting harder to fight as his exhaustion grew. 

The woman sat across from him in the cell, her knees pulled to her chest and her expression blank. She’d said absolutely nothing after dismissing his question about Anathema the night prior, not even when the peculiar guards brought in their cruel attempt at a meal. She didn’t even flinch when they set the tray down in front of her, nor when the duo stared, cold and unmoving, presumably waiting for her to beg for her life like all the others…but she did wait until they were finally gone to pull the tray closer. 

She had grabbed the chunk of bread first, and extended it towards him in the shadows like it was second-nature to her. As if it wasn’t ever an option that she wouldn’t share it, and despite the fact that they were in stark disagreement about their respective situations in this place. 

He felt guilty for accepting the offering, but unfortunately, he felt like he had no other choice; his eyelids were growing heavier by the minute, his muscles were becoming weaker with each new day of disuse, and his nerves were perpetually fried with wary energy. He was constantly stifling another yawn, and was dangerously close to falling asleep, to having another nightmare again. 

Loki didn’t know if he ever talked in his sleep, but he didn’t want to risk revealing any compromising information about himself or his past; the less anyone knew about him here, the better off they all were. 

But other than the food she’d shared with him, there wasn’t much else for him to distract himself with. The woman wasn’t talking anymore, and her questions had faded away alongside the hope she may have once had about escaping. That left Loki to alone deal with his questions about her, and their inscrutable answers. 

The problem with that, however, was that his mind was nothing but a tangled mess; a rat’s nest, made up of lies and false memories, the betrayals of the life he’d left behind, and all the lives that never were. Before him lay a scattering of dots, all seemingly unrelated and centered around a woman who claimed she didn’t know what they wanted with her, and he couldn’t seem to make heads or tails of any of it.

Loki used to pride himself on his ability to see the bigger picture, especially on a galactic scale. But he had come here to hide and to wallow, to purposely let his mind atrophy into a cobweb of nothingness, because that was easier than continue trying, and failing, to be happy. He felt comfortable doing that, and letting this become his legacy, because he hadn’t ever expected a riddle to fall into his lap again. He hadn’t ever expected her. 

As Loki swallowed the last of the bread, he forced himself to look at her again. She was still huddled against the wall, illuminated by the dim lantern light from the hallway and shivering in the cold dungeon like a scared little child. He was flabbergasted that she was still here, that they’d bothered bringing her back after being caught during an escape attempt. And he couldn’t help but hate himself, because the old Loki could have figured out why that was a very long time ago. 

Next to her, the bowl of porridge sat on the floor, mostly untouched and definitely not enjoyed. Her expression was sullen as she stared off into the distance, and her limbs were folded around herself as she retreated deeper inward. It almost made him feel…something. 

Of what exactly, Loki wasn’t quite sure; the feeling was old and familiar, something that was long lost while never really being understood in the first place. He told himself that the feeling was irrelevant, because it was just the mystery he found equal parts infuriating and intriguing. He just needed a bit more time than usual to settle the question marks, and then he could finally return to the blissful void of apathy. 

And maybe she wasn’t lying when she claimed to not know who Anathema was, but he didn’t believe for a moment that she had no idea why the guards were so interested in her. Either she had something of theirs, or she knew some mysterious piece of information they didn’t yet - but they were obviously willing to play the long game in order to acquire it, and that couldn’t have been for nothing. 

Perhaps it had something to do with the gem dangling from her necklace. Loki had seen her touching it, frequently and absentmindedly, running her slender fingers over the deep blue stone during stressed and quiet moments like now. Clearly it meant a lot to her; someone who loved her had given it to her. Someone she loved back, someone she probably missed dearly…

As he started to wonder if anyone was out there looking for her, Loki realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes. They landed once again upon the bowl of uneaten porridge next to her, and a new form of discomfort wove itself between the muscles of his shoulders and neck. It wrapped around his nerve-endings, stinging the open and frayed tendrils that had been worn bare from the pain of still being alive. 

He was quite vulnerable existing like this, even though he knew she couldn’t see him hiding in the shadows. That she didn’t know what he was thinking, or where he was looking. That she was unaware of the fleeting relief that poured into his veins when she was brought back to the cell alive, or his shame at feeling anything that had immediately replaced it. 

Loki had been flippant when she was initially brought in here. He was angry the first time she tried to share a meal with him. And then he was conflicted, at best, when she was dragged back in the second time. This paltry range of emotions was far more than he was previously used to; he felt like he was drowning in it, like it was slowly collapsing his airways and squeezing out every last ounce of oxygen from his lungs. 

Because there was only one person on this planet who knew his name. A single individual, throughout all of space and time, knew where he was. She was the sole witness to his current existence, and he’d never felt more uncomfortable or on display than here and now. She had met him at his worst, in his ultimate moment of triumph when he’d finally been able to remove himself from any and all equations, from every problem that ever needed solving, and he absolutely hated that. 

Loki thought he’d finally accounted for everything when he had stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon. He thought he’d finally fixed the issue, himself, for literally everyone - and then this tiny little variable had shown up so unexpectedly to completely ruin it for him. 

He should have been angrier about it. He should have been furious and seething and shaking with rage over this egregious betrayal of the universe. Being alone had been the whole point, keeping everyone safe from him had been his only intention, seeking protection from the pain of both betrayal and being betrayed was all that Loki had left. Why wasn’t he allowed that meager peace of mind? 

Damnation clung to Loki like a frightened child clung to his mother’s skirts, trembling in the dark and begging for acknowledgement of its traumatized state. It lurked around every corner and it haunted every shadow, constantly weeping and whimpering and howling out its anguish to cruel and uncaring souls. It was always there, lingering in the corner of his eye, reminding him of just how helpless and useless he was. That he should just give up. That he should just end it already. 

But sometimes, the damnation would transform into something far more sinister, into the tall, skulking form of a cerulean demon. Hanging over his shoulder and digging its claws into his neck, the demon would spit cruel maledictions into his ear. Didn’t Loki know that everyone around him was already doomed? Wouldn’t it be kinder to just kill them now, rather than waiting for him to ruin their life and then cruelly and inevitably take it from them?  

Hiding in the dungeon was the only reasonable compromise between the frightened child and the viscous demon warring in his mind. If only he had stuck with that plan, if only he hadn’t revealed that someone else was alive in the cell with her, then maybe he wouldn’t be in this mess right now. 

Regret, his oldest and only friend, wouldn’t be blaring its horn and sounding the alarm bells and crying out for solace. So why did it bother him so much now that she wasn’t eating? 

Loki shifted uncomfortably on the stone floor, weighing the options in his mind. The regret of initially engaging with this woman didn’t mean he couldn’t change tactics; and if she wasn’t eating, then it wouldn’t be too much longer until he was on his own again. That had been his initial plan, and there was no reason he couldn’t return to that now. Wasn’t being alone all he ever wanted? 

“You should finish your meal. There’s no telling how long it’ll be before they bring another…” The words felt like acid on Loki’s tongue, dripping down his throat to eat away at his insides. He hoped they had come out as bluntly as he’d intended, but in reality, it just sounded like something his mother would have said. 

This time, the woman didn’t shudder when he finally broke the tense silence. She didn’t even react at all, other than to sigh heavily and respond in a low and flattened tone. “What’s the point…?” 

“Well, clearly they’d prefer you to be alive, for whatever reason…” Loki’s jaw tensed as he paused, struggling to understand why he was even bothering. “Even if they bring food on an irregular basis, it’s still more than anyone else gets…”

“Maybe the only reason they want me alive is so they can continue mocking and hurting me.”

That was a more difficult point to contend with; perhaps the guards had just grown weary of the simple and mundane murders, and they’d decided to go with something more entertaining this time. What if there wasn’t a more complicated explanation for the guards' motivations? What if he was searching for logic that didn’t even exist?

Loki stifled another yawn as he leaned back against the stone wall, raking his fingers through tangled curls that were just as chaotic as his thoughts. There had to be something he was missing while attempting to put this puzzle together. “So what did the guards say when they caught you escaping?”  

The woman let out a heavy exhale, and her tone shifted into a more sarcastic tone. “Oh, normal things like what are you doing out of your cell?, and no one’s coming to rescue you. Typical kidnapper things, you know…” 

Loki couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her nonchalant answers, but what else was he expecting? He was beginning to wonder if it was even worth putting this much effort into avoiding sleep. Nothing else in his life prior to meeting her had been easy, so why was he expecting this to go smoothly? 

“Actually, the guard did say something strange before knocking me out…” The woman trailed off, pausing as she furrowed her brow. 

Loki cleared his throat as he looked towards her again. “Strange how?” 

“Maxine - or Nulan, whichever one it was…They caught me upstairs in their private quarters. Just before attacking me, they said what is gone…may never return.” The woman pulled her lower lip between her teeth as she recalled the memory. “I’ve never heard it before, and I have no idea what it means…”

What is gone…may never return. Loki turned the phrase backward and forward in his mind, trying to find its place in this absolutely confounding puzzle. But he’d never heard anyone say anything even remotely close to it, so there was nowhere for it to go. The phrase’s sentiment, however, he understood perfectly well.

“It was probably just a threat, or a taunt…” she continued with a dismissive shake of her head. “They were just mocking me, for losing everything…”

“Or it’s a prayer. A desperate request, for some kind of reprieve…” Loki murmured in reply. He didn’t want to think about whether anyone had ever hoped for the same thing after he’d finally walked away, but he was positive that they had. And he hadn’t meant for his interpretation to sound so melancholy, but as his gaze caught the woman’s matching expression, he could feel her understanding of his meaning. Loki hated that. 

She must have sensed that as well, because she quickly forced a false smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “No…surely they must have been talking about me losing my boots.”

Her smile faded just as quickly as it had appeared, shifting into a grimace as a violent shiver shuddered over the limbs she struggled to pull close enough. She breathed out a heavy sigh and lowered her forehead to her knees with another tremble, and for once, Loki was grateful for the Jotun physiology keeping him relatively comfortable. But the woman didn’t share the same luxury of such a curse, and she was clearly suffering in these dank and grim conditions. 

Loki turned his attention towards his fingers, twitching and fidgeting restlessly in his lap. This particular guilt was both new and unwelcome, like the haunting of fresh ghosts he thought he’d finally manage to not brutally murder for once. It wasn’t directly his fault she was here, that she was suffering. She was a complete stranger, after all, and this couldn’t have been his problem, or his responsibility. 

But as Loki lifted his gaze again, carefully moving his eyes to avoid looking upon her once more, he caught a glimpse of the woman’s forgotten boots in the shadows, the ones carelessly stripped away while the guards were searching her the night before. 

He recalled one of the first lessons Odin had explained about ruling a kingdom, that sometimes tact and finesse were far more effective than blades or might. Perhaps if Loki was kind instead of harsh, and if he returned the boots to the frozen woman, then she might help alleviate the nagging questions he still had and allow him to fight off sleep for just a little bit longer. 

His brow furrowed, and he swallowed hard as he realized this was the least he could do for the both of them. It wasn’t much, but it felt like chopping off a limb when he cleared his throat and forced himself to speak again. “Your, um…boots are in here. They might help you with the…cold.”

The woman’s head popped back up, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned for them in the darkness. “Where are they? I don’t - ” she replied, clumsily attempting to push herself upright, obviously eager to get them back on as soon as possible. 

Loki felt an odd sense of duty, one that had been buried deep underneath the many eons of pain, and it compelled him to act before he had the chance to second-guess himself. He moved slowly, shifting his weight onto his hip, and extended his arm out. His fingers were just long enough to barely grasp the black leather pull loops, to drag them closer and then place them within her reach while maintaining a safe distance, and without the need for him to stand.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she stretched to pull them closer. “Thank you so much, Loki.” 

He couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact anymore; it was hard enough to listen to the bewildered gratitude in her voice. His every movement had stayed within the safe confines of the shadows, and he imagined that she saw her boots reappearing as if from the loving aid of a benevolent god, of someone else who was capable of caring. 

“It was nothing,” he told them both. 

He had fully intended to return his attention back inward, but he found himself distracted by the woman as she shifted on the floor. Curling and stretching her limbs, gracelessly attempting to pull a boot back on with a single hand, and then reluctantly, with both hands. She let out a gasping whimper as she tried to extend out her left arm, and Loki noticed her fingers trembling as she tried to push through the pain. 

Obligation flared along his spine again, but this time, Loki questioned it. A childhood memory surfaced, of when his father would return home from war, bruised and exhausted and weary, and Loki would rush to his side, eager to help with removing his armor and assist in any way he could. He thought maybe if he proved himself useful, eager and determined, like his older brother was, then Odin might finally give him a chance to fight alongside him. 

But even though his seidr had been well-advanced for his age, his father had always refused to bring Loki along, despite never leaving home without Thor. Odin had said that Loki wasn’t ready yet, that he wasn’t strong enough, that it was too dangerous for a little boy to be out on the field and surrounded by their mortal enemies. 

“Such a young prince falling into the hands of Asgard’s opponents could prove disastrous to the realms,” his father had said, even though that fear had never stopped him from bringing Thor into battle. It wasn’t until much later that Loki realized the truth, that the only real use he had wasn’t needed back then - not until the direst of circumstances forced his father’s ultimate and final hand. 

The woman let out a sharp groan, bringing Loki back to the present. She had collapsed back against the wall, sniffling and brushing the messy strands of crimson hair away from her face. “Loki, I’m so sorry…but can you please…?” 

His eyes widened, and hers were full of tears. Her cheeks reddened, and her lower lip trembled as she spoke with a cracked voice. “Please help me? I’m so cold, and I can’t…I can’t get these back on…” 

It wasn’t like the cold, calculating demands he was previously used to, and Loki realized that it pained her to ask like this. She wasn’t trying to get anything out of him, she wasn’t manipulating her way into something more than she deserved, or trying to get him to commit atrocities in her name. 

It wasn’t a game or a trick designed to be laughed at later with her friends; she genuinely just needed his help. But the problem was that this kind of assistance not only required him to vacate the shadows, to come closer and share the same air as her - it necessitated physical touch. Loki was sure he couldn’t handle that. 

The muscles in his fingers articulated of their own accord, separating and curling into just the right place to summon and concentrate his seidr, intent on disassembling the atoms that made up the woman’s boots and reassembling them back where they belonged. 

A suitable compromise, Loki believed, except that absolutely nothing happened. The warmth that normally accompanied his magic was nowhere to be found, that familiar connection to the past and the present, to his mother, wasn’t opening its loving arms to welcome him back home - and that was when he finally remembered. 

Loki’s seidr was dead, because he was supposed to be dead. 

He’d forsaken his magic as soon as he’d arrived here. Once he willingly stepped through the Time Door and into this dungeon, once he’d realized that the first thing this newly-freed universe had done was trap him yet again, he decided that this time it was really meant to be. 

So he didn’t bother fighting it, and he willingly let go of the tendrils of seidr he had once clung so tightly to. He didn’t deserve the honor of wielding it, not after what he’d done in New York. And what use would that magic have been to the hollowed-out shell of a person he was now? What good could he have possibly done with it anyway?

“Loki?”

Once again, the woman’s quiet voice refocused his attention. Her expression had fallen even further during his silent brooding, and she was staring woefully into the dark, desperately hoping to see him finally coming to her aid. A deep sense of dread rose up within his chest, thick and impenetrable, oozing between his ribs to singe and suffocate his lungs like molten lava. 

Loki didn’t know what to do, and yet, he moved anyway. Pressing his palms flat against the stone floor, he bent his knees and carefully pushed himself upright. His joints cracked and popped, his muscles were stiff and sluggish as he slid one foot forward, and the belt around his waist was far looser than when he’d initially put it on. 

Taking another step closer, his mind suddenly dizzied, and his body began to sway dangerously from the juxtaposition of pushing himself forward while he’d been wasting away. He quickly grabbed onto the wall with a sharp gasp, trying to steady himself as his legs tingled themselves awake. 

“Loki…are you alright?” the woman murmured, her brow furrowing with concern. 

“I’m fine, it’s just - ” Loki sighed heavily, his heart pounding and muscles trembling. “I’m just not used to…standing.” 

Loki closed his eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment, willing his body back into operating under his own control. But despite his best efforts, weariness and exhaustion were still permanently at the helm, relentlessly steering him back towards collapsing and passing out again. 

“It’s alright. Take your time…”

Loki’s eyes snapped back open, painfully aware that she was still watching him closely, and he did everything he could to both avoid her gaze and her reassurance. Nothing about this was alright, and he could hear his father’s chastising voice from beyond the stars, criticizing him for allowing enervation to consume him - even though that was the only way to keep himself out of trouble. 

His eyes flitted across the dungeon cell, feverishly taking in the stone walls and steel bars of the door, then out to the flickering lantern light of the hallway. Loki had never even bothered to take a good look at his coffin before committing to staying in it for all eternity, but from this elevation, he could clearly examine the cuts that made up the large slabs of the walls and floor. Meticulous, flawless, precise - too perfect to have been sliced by hand. 

His gaze moved to the cream-colored candlestick suspended within the single lantern in the hallway, evenly melted away and without a single speck of soot upon the glass encasing it. From there, he could make out the grooves carved by the steel bars into the doorway’s arch as it swung open and closed, and the streaked and dark stains, smudged against the grayed and leadened floor, leading from the hallway back into their cell. 

The woman’s blood, he assumed, and Loki’s hands clenched into fists. His throat tightened, and the slightest hint of outrage began to reluctantly wake from its slumber. 

Forcing the feeling away, Loki finally closed the distance and carefully crouched in front of the woman; only then did he let her be the focus of his attention. Loose and uneven strands of crimson had been pulled free from the long, disheveled braid nestled untidily over her shoulder;her skin was wan and pallid, and her lips were tinted with the faintest hint of blue. 

Dried blood had smeared on her ear, her neck, the lengths of her hair and along her cheek. It was everywhere, mixed with the dirt and muck from the floor, coating the corners of her cracked lips and the freckles that dotted her cheekbone. The fact that the blood was dried, meaning the original wound was at the very least no longer actively bleeding, did nothing to make him feel better. 

Loki lowered one knee down to the floor, precariously settling his weight onto one ankle, and the woman’s attention was now entirely fixed on her boots. She swallowed nervously, and Loki silently agreed with the sentiment. How long had it been since he’d touched another person? Did he even remember how to be gentle? How to not contaminate? 

Moving cautiously, he took a boot into his grasp, threading his fingers between the loops and slowly pulling to loosen its laces. While he worked, he focused on the soft leather: its scent was herbal, earthy, and with just the barest suggestion of sweetness. Intricate designs, swirls and constellations and rays of light emanating from an overly-stylized sun were stitched into the leather, extending from the collar and flowing down way past the ankle. 

Soft, pliable and shiny, the leather still showed signs of its latest polish, applied with a healthy dose of high-quality wax, from underneath the layers of grim. The boots had been methodically cared for, regularly and recently, and probably not too long before the woman found herself in custody of the mysterious guards. Loki found himself curious about the circumstances of her capture. 

Stained in the same shade of night as the leathers covering her legs, they blended seamlessly together with the rest of her clothing, from the thin stockings on her feet to the chipped lacquer on her fingernails. Everything was the exact same color, save for the thin, flowing emerald tunic that had long since come untucked, and the gem that hung from her neck. 

And everything she wore was undoubtedly expensive, most likely customized for this particular owner, and she had obviously not dressed for being locked inside a damp and grimy dungeon. At best, she was prepared for a pleasant walk through the woods on a mildly chilly evening; Loki tried not to think about it too much. 

Out of his peripheral vision, Loki could see the woman stealing glances up at him. She watched him carefully, her sea green eyes shifting cautiously between his face, his hands, and the boot he was unlacing - obviously examining and judging the hideous monster whose help she had no choice but to accept. 

Loki began to feel self-conscious. There was no doubt that his own appearance wasn’t any better than her own at the moment; in fact, he was sure it was much, much worse. Dark and unkempt curls hung way past his shoulders like sinister snakes. The skin on his hands was sullen and pallor, shifting dangerously close to bluish gray, and he had no idea if his eyes had begun to drift back into their original shade of ruby-red or not. He promised himself that this would be the only time she ever saw his face up close. 

When he could no longer justify stalling with the laces, he cleared his throat, and forced his fingers to tap the underside of her leg; a featherlight touch that could have been easily missed if one hadn’t been expecting it. But the woman again mercifully sensed his meaning, and she positioned the appropriate foot for him to slide the boot on. 

Too well, Loki noticed, as he pulled the collar up to settle around her calf; she was exceptionally practiced at having others put footwear on her - at tensing the right muscles at just the right moment, and extending the leg with just enough force to seat the foot comfortably against the insole. 

“Sorry about this…” she mumbled as Loki pulled the laces tight and began looping them back and forth around the hooks. “Although, this is probably the most exciting thing you’ve done in a while, huh?” 

She was trying to lighten the mood, to distract from the previous awkwardness of such close quarters. Loki’s response was flat and measured, his attention focused on tying instead of talking. “Like I said - it’s nothing.” 

A nervous silence followed, one that was far more uncomfortable than the awkwardness. Loki hadn’t meant to be so dismissive, and perhaps he’d been far too frigid for someone who was supposed to be helping her. When he finished the final loop, he cleared his throat again and forced himself to look up again. 

“Is that…too tight for you?” he murmured softly. 

The woman managed a weak smile as she flexed her ankle. “No. It feels fine.” 

Loki noted that her pupils dilated ever so slightly when she met his gaze, and he took that as a good sign that her head injury wasn’t a completely serious one. He wasn’t sure why he was noting that, but nonetheless, he had, and he didn’t have the energy to start questioning it. Instead, he busied himself with picking up the other boot and threading his fingers underneath its laces like he’d done with the first. 

“Is this all I have left? Just waiting in this cell to die?” 

Her voice had taken on a somber, more sorrowful tone now; apparently open anguish was much easier for her than polite small-talk, and if she hadn’t been so exhausted, Loki would have guessed there would have been more than a tear or two accompanying her questions. He wasn’t sure how to answer her; bringing up the fact that the other prisoners before her had never lasted more than a day or two, or the fact that they were never returned once removed from their cells, probably wasn’t going to help her mood very much. 

“At least they’re leaving you alone for the most part,” Loki answered, lightly tapping his fingers underneath her other leg for the placement of its boot. “Be thankful for relative peace.” 

The woman sighed heavily as she cooperated. “Relative peace. That’s all I have to look forward to?” 

“For some, that’s all they’ve ever wanted,” Loki said absentmindedly. “They’d kill for it, and others willingly die in its pursuit…”

The woman’s eyebrows raised in troubled concern, and Loki tried to ignore it. He couldn’t understand why he was like this, either speaking too familiarly with the woman, or far too flippantly. He was out of practice when it came to any sort of normal conversation, but he didn’t want to be accustomed to it again. In the end, she was just a temporary distraction, and he wasn’t supposed to even exist at all. 

“That’s very enlightened, coming from someone who has nightmares every time he closes his eyes…” the woman replied as he finished tying the laces on the other boot. She flexed that ankle, and then nodded her approval while pulling her knees back against her chest. 

Loki’s brow furrowed as he met her gaze once more. Her eyes were wide and open, appearing to be without a single shred of judgment, only empathy. Loki couldn’t help but scrutinize her for that. If she only knew how little he deserved kindness, and he was irritated that she’d noticed how bad his nightmares were at all. He’d rather have not known that his weakness was on complete display, and thus, beyond his complete control. 

Slowly pushing himself back up to standing, grateful that the task and its requisite close proximity were finally over, Loki’s fingertips trailed along the cold stone as he backed into the shadows again. But lethargy was creeping back in, along with the ever-present unsettled and restless energy, and when Loki returned to sitting, he wasn’t quite as far into the dark as he had been before. 

“You know, it may help your nightmares to talk about them,” the woman suggested cautiously. “Perhaps unburdening yourself a little would be a good thing…” 

Loki grimaced. Of all the ways she could have worded it, he wished it hadn’t been in that specific way. As it were, various burdens of all sorts were already going to haunt him until the end of time, it seemed, and he preferred not to be reminded of the purposes initially set upon him by Thanos. And even if he wanted to, where should he begin? 

He still didn’t quite understand what exactly had happened to him on Knowhere; that entire year was just a chaotic haze of torture and manipulation, through both physical and psychological means, and it was impossible for him to decipher what was real and what was a lie. Even now, he couldn’t even recall the exact circumstances that led to his descent from the Bifrost and into Thanos’ control. 

Sometimes, he could clearly remember the decision to let go of Gungnir and fall into the abyss; other times, he was absolutely convinced that his brother had pushed him in a jealous rage, furious that Loki’s short tenure as King had proved far more successful than any longer one Thor could have ever managed. 

Either way, the fall had resulted in him becoming Thanos’ prisoner, and then later, as a member of the Black Order - but only after they’d finally conceded that physical torture was never going to work on the body of a Frost Giant, on an Asgardian prince raised as a warrior, or on a powerful sorcerer who already had extremely complicated feelings about being alive in the first place. 

But once they realized that he just wanted somewhere to belong, they finally started to see real progress, and the emotional manipulation that followed was probably more effective than they could have ever hoped for. It was so very easy to muddy the rough waters of Loki’s psyche thanks to the Chitauri Scepter and his tremendous heartbreak - a kind word here, a clever lie there, and nothing but speeches about revenge and betrayals, destinies and purposes, salvation and redemption, and scorned Kings and their disgraced sons. 

After Loki had been welcomed into the fold, Thanos explained his need for the Tesseract; if Loki acquired it, then he would be granted an army to help take Midgard by as excessive and violent force as he deemed necessary. The God of Mischief already knew that he wanted to be as destructive as possible - to both completely cripple his brother’s fondness for the pathetic humans, and to show Odin that he would settle for being a terrifying leader if he wasn’t permitted to be a good one. 

His idea for retrieving the Tesseract had been a clever one; so clever that Loki wasn’t surprised that Thanos or the Black Order hadn’t ever considered it before. But getting to suggest it meant that his new Master was immediately pleased with his usefulness, something that had rarely happened with his previous keeper, and Loki was so grateful for the opportunity to satisfy. 

Out of the six Infinity Stones, the Space Stone was unique in that it could generate massive amounts of self-sustaining energy. Its power signature was incredibly easy to track, and it didn’t take long for Loki to determine the Tesseract’s location inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility. Under Fury’s careful and watchful eye, the mortals were studying its capabilities for power production, no doubt to be used in some kind of advanced weapons manufacture instead of something that could actually be used to help mankind. 

A stereotypically short-sighted action, one that would soon be their downfall, because none of those weapons would ever be able to stop him from completing his task. Had they realized the stone’s true potential, as Loki had, then perhaps the humans might have fared better during his invasion.

Because he knew something that apparently no one else did, something he now prayed that no one else would ever be able to figure out. Loki was in the unusual position of understanding exactly how the Bifrost had operated, of how it could easily send and receive anything from across the galaxies with frightening and pinpoint accuracy. As a child, he was fascinated by the Bifrost, and more than once Heimdall had to stop him from attempting to disassemble it while searching for the details of its inner workings. 

Once informed of her son’s unyielding curiosities, his mother had patiently redirected that energy towards Asgard’s massive libraries. There, he spent many late nights pouring over the texts and histories of the magnificent Bifrost. Once he’d devoured all he could from words, he then spent his time exploring the Realm and looking for means of travel that didn’t involve going to the Bifrost at all. 

And thanks to the Mad Titan’s relentless and universal conquest in search of the stones, Loki had access to incalculable amounts of lore, research and history that had been stolen from countless cultures and societies. He spent months buried in books and manuscripts, performing calculations and practicing his seidr, searching desperately for the perfect combination of science and magic to get him what he needed. 

All of that, when combined with his extensive knowledge of the Bifrost, allowed Loki to realize that all he needed was a power-source. It must have been fate and its impeccable sense of humor, because the Space Stone could be the engine, and the Tesseract was going to be the gateway - a terrible, incredible bridge between where you were, and where you desperately wanted to be. 

For Loki, the Tesseract was going to deliver him to vengeance, respect, authority and glory - in a way that no one would be able to undo once he finally got it. His brother, his father, the entire Nine Realms and beyond, all of them would be powerless to stop him once he figured out how to open the Tesseract’s portal from the other side. 

Returning to his research with a new sense of delirium, he gave up on sleep, and food, and his sanity while he searched for the answer. His cheeks became hollow, his eyes were sunken deep into his skull, and his skin grew weak and frail. His nerves were on the verge of total disintegration, his heart ached and his mind was hazy. 

His every waking thought was consumed by the Tesseract, and on the rare occasion that he actually passed out, so were his nightmares. He became too lost to even carry on a conversation; all he could manage were grunts and groans and strange approximations of the word “Tesseract”. Every part of himself, anything that had once been Loki, had all but slipped away. 

But occasionally, Loki would come back to himself. He would look down at his hands in horror, and he wouldn’t understand where he was or how he got there. While screaming and lashing out, the one called Ebony Maw would preach about balance, about salvation and judgment and how Loki was destined to assist the Great Titan in saving all of life, by ending half of it. He was instructed to be grateful for being allowed to take part in it.

But it didn’t make any sense, and Loki tried so hard to resist, to fight them off, to scramble to the exit and free himself, to warn someone of the terrible thing that was coming. Then, something would happen, something would touch him, and his mind would cloud back over with rage and madness. The dangerous craving for the Tesseract would return tenfold, and then he would be back on task, more eager than ever to please. 

After a quick journey through the minds of the men known as Selvig and Barton, Loki finally had everything he needed to complete his sacred mission. The astrophysicist filled in the last remaining gaps about the Tesseract’s functionalities, and the archer revealed information about S.H.I.E.L.D.'s security protocols - how many personnel were on site, what types of weapons they had, where they’d been trained. The details of every file stored on their secret servers, every individual’s personal histories - including that of the beings once considered to join the so-called Avengers, the ones that might be called upon to stop him. 

On his first attempt, Loki succeeded in opening the Tesseract’s portal. One moment, he was standing on Thanos’ ship, and the next, he was inside the research facility, shrouded within a haze of smoke and mania. By the third second, he was ferociously attacking, moving and acting without consideration for the stealth or secrecy he’d been trained with as a child. He didn’t even bother dodging the humans’ pathetic projectiles; instead, he focused on murdering the ones he had already deemed useless to his cause, and using the Sceptre to convert the ones that were worthy of it

Nor did he bother mincing words with Fury as the Director stalled for time, not even the ones ripped directly from Ebony Maw’s impassioned and self-important speeches. Loki already knew how unstable the gateway was, and that was by design. During his maniacal studies, he had determined how best to sustain the portal’s opening for safe and easy passage - first, in order to allow entry for the Chitauri forces, and then to facilitate easy travel for Thanos to find the rest of the stones later on. 

Loki’s first act of murder had been intentionally not stabilizing the portal as it opened inside the S.H.I.E.L.D. facility; he had wanted the structure to collapse in a stunning display of destruction. Whether it was to be an ominous warning for what he was about to do, or if it was to serve as a call to action for the only ones who could have prevented him from succeeding, he still wasn’t quite sure. 

Either way, he ultimately failed in the only way that had mattered. Loki didn’t achieve vengeance or respect or authority, and there was no victory or glory waiting for him after it was over. The Chitauri Forces were destroyed, the Tesseract was not handed over to Thanos per their agreement, and he’d made a great many vicious and unforgiving enemies that day. 

In the end, the only thing waiting for him was a prison cell on Asgard, and all he’d managed to do was to make everything worse. 

And presumably, after it was over, Thanos still had access to all of Loki’s research. Losing out on the Tesseract would have infuriated him and the Black Order; a minor inconvenience, sure, but it wouldn’t have hindered their quest in the slightest. Thanos still knew how to use the Tesseract because of him - and more importantly, he understood how to use it in the most destructive way possible. That was completely and entirely Loki’s fault, and he just hoped that Thanos was arrogant enough to keep that information to himself, that no one else would try and fail in the same catastrophic way that Loki had. 

Maybe the Tesseract wasn’t meant to be used as a gateway, and in doing so, Loki had ensured that he’d never get what he wanted, and that he’d lose what little he had left. All of that madness and frantic chaos and deliberate carnage had been for absolutely nothing. Maybe the Tesseract was cursed, and maybe, so was he. 

Because every single time Loki had come into contact with it, his life had taken a drastic and even more devastating turn for the worse. Attempting to acquire it for Thanos had broken him - mind, body, and soul; fleeing New York with it had landed him in the clutches of the TVA; and apparently, it had been his ultimate destiny to die while trying to keep it from the Mad Titan. 

The absolute last thing Loki ever wanted was to be reminded of the Tesseract - more than he wanted silence, or solitude, or to rot. And now this woman wanted to know what his nightmares were about? 

Even if he had made it to the prison cell on Asgard, he wasn’t planning to explain himself to anyone. What was he supposed to tell his brother, his mother, his father? That he’d been deceived? Were they going to believe that he’d fallen for someone else’s lies so easily, and without question? That the God of Mischief himself had been tricked, played for a fool and made to be the universe’s largest and most pathetic scapegoat?

No, trying to justify his actions would be a grave disservice to the innocent lives he’d taken, and telling the truth was next to impossible. Even just talking about the betrayal of his family would be too much for him to bear, and that was the only aspect of the entire thing that Loki had never, ever second-guessed. 

The woman continued stealing glances in his direction, from just a few feet away now. Still waiting for him to say something, anything, to help keep her mind distracted from her own plights. For the briefest of moments, he actually considered asking if she’d ever heard of the Tesseract, or the Infinity Stones. If she knew who Thanos was, if he’d ever been to this planet before…but as Loki fidgeted with his tie, running his fingers over the frayed and broken seams in the cloth, he knew the answer didn’t matter. 

The appropriate time to have asked that question would have been when he’d first arrived, back when the TemPad still had the power to take him some place else if need be. But now the TemPad was dead; he was trapped here, and the longer he could go without hearing about the Tesseract, the better. The longer he could go on in the blissful ignorance of relative peace, and without talking about himself, the easier this would be for everyone. 

“How did you wind up here anyway?” He winced as he spoke, hating himself for being more than a little curious about it. “I can’t imagine the guards asking you to come along nicely…”

The woman hesitated for a moment, no doubt replaying the events in her mind and wishing she had done something differently. Her fingers grasped the gem that hung from her neck, and she swallowed hard. “I was…taken from Tessaway, my home, in the middle of the night.” 

She paused, her eyes focused on something non-existent in the distance. “I don’t know how they made it past the sentries, but they…managed, somehow. They took me from my bed, while I slept…” 

Loki shook his head, trying to appear sympathetic. “You lived in a heavily guarded city. It must be a very dangerous place…”

“Tessaway isn’t a city,” she corrected, furrowing her brow as she looked over at him. “It’s the castle in Fayrest. You know, the capital city…?” 

He didn’t know any of that, of course, having never left this cell. The woman looked like she wanted to say more but was afraid to, and he couldn’t help but think about why she had seemed to imply before that no one was going to rescue her. “Wouldn’t someone from the castle have noticed your absence? Surely they have to be looking for you by now…” 

“No…” The woman shifted uncomfortably in place, her expression broken and forlorn. “No, I was just a servant. No one important enough to miss…” 

Loki had been studying her carefully ever since he’d realized her captors were going to keep her alive for much longer than they had the others. Her movements were elegant and refined, her clothing and jewelry expensive and customized, her speech graceful and enchanting; the kind of charming that could only come from years of practice. He didn’t believe for a second that she was just a servant working in a castle. 

But she was also clearly in a tremendous amount of pain, and for whatever reason, was keeping the origins of her birth a secret. Loki wondered what might have happened to him if he had been given that luxury, if he hadn’t been the only one to not know the truth about himself. 

“Ah, a servant,” he replied, trying to lighten the mood a little. His unpracticed lips curved into a forced and lazy grin. “That certainly explains why you’re so concerned about my well-being…” 

The woman’s eyebrows raised in amusement, and she tilted her head curiously as if taking his comment as a challenge. “What’s the matter? Are you not used to someone worrying about your well-being?” 

Loki’s jaw tensed; perhaps he hadn’t been behaving as opaquely as he hoped, and he hated that she could see through him just as well as he could through her. He glanced over, and decided to provoke her right back. “Well, I’m sure they’ll miss you at the castle eventually. Like when there’s pots that need washing, or linens that need changing?” 

“Yes, yes, that’s very funny…” she replied, rolling her eyes. “I get it, the thing about servants is that no one knows your name until something you normally do suddenly isn’t being done anymore…” 

The woman turned, and she met his gaze with a considering and dissecting one of her own. “Like you - you don’t need anything from me, so why would you ever bother learning my name?” 

From just a few feet away, the woman stared deep into his soul, tugging at the strings that still held him upright and all but questioning if they were even necessary. He waited until she looked away to furrow his brow again, because while she was right about him not needing anything from her, she was surely mistaken about the other half of her point.

Because he did actually know her name; it was the first new name he’d learned in such a very long time, and he thought it suited her quite well, all things considered. But he had been trying to avoid acknowledging it, not wanting it to mean something more than what it was. 

It was just a name, after all; a series of specific vocalizations designed to get her attention. Saying it out loud didn’t mean that they were friends, or that they were even important to each other. It wouldn’t bind them in any way, or obligate him to care. But if that were true, then why did he have such a problem with saying it? 

Loki could feel a nervous energy creeping relentlessly up his spine again. He wished it would stop receding, that it would stay put, because the constant shifting between relaxing and stressing was completely wearing him out. He told himself he just needed to say it out loud and get it over with, before he could start second-guessing and talk himself out of it again - especially now that she had noticed his careful avoidance of her name. 

“What kind of servant knows how to fight with a staff anyway?” Loki asked, affecting an innocent and casual tone. “I guess servants named Oliviette do…” 

After he answered his own question, Loki looked towards her again, and Oliviette was already smiling back at him; it was a bleary and quiet acknowledgement, but the sentiment was definitely noteworthy. For the first time since they’d met, he could see the dimples in her cheeks, and it was impossible to miss the way her eyes lit up with mirth, or how her lips pursed before she finally responded. 

“What? Am I not allowed to have hobbies outside of work?” 

Loki struggled to not return her smile. He almost felt a sense of appreciation for her snark and the much-needed diversion from the constant aching in his chest. It was only then that he remembered that this was supposed to be a temporary distraction; he couldn’t afford to spend needless energy that didn’t directly involve finding out why the guards were keeping Oliviette alive for this long. 

Keeping a safe distance was paramount, his new glorious purpose. Trust was for children and dogs, wasn’t that how he’d put it to Mobius during their first meeting? As long as he stayed here, keeping himself isolated and protected, then he couldn’t ever be tricked into being someone else’s attack dog ever again. He couldn’t ever hurt anyone again. 

Besides, it was highly implausible that her life would end in any way other than tragically. Loki’d already had quite enough of that - and would it be worth getting close to her, even if it didn’t? 

⊱ ─ ༓ ── ⋅•⋅⊰ ─  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ∙ ⋅  ─ ⊱⋅•⋅ ── ༓ ─ ⊰

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#loki #loki x original female character #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki x oc #loki fic #loki angst #loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x ofc #tva loki #loki mutual pining #loki mcu #loki smut #loki fluff #loki hurt/comfort #slow burn #mutual pining #marvel #fanfic #smut #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #TLTGYA #cee writes

[skyward-floored]

(More hdw au, several months after this memory)

Gentle humming drifts through the air as Queen Adeline rocks her baby, little Zelda’s eyes finally slipping closed in slumber. Adeline looks down at her arms to be sure her daughter is asleep, and as she finishes her lullaby, she makes her way across the room, careful to step lightly.

“Goodnight my sweet Zelda,” Queen Adeline whispers, giving her tiny daughter a kiss as she places her in her bed. “Dream pleasant dreams.”

Zelda doesn’t react, other than with a quiet snuffling noise, and Adeline gives her one more smile before leaving her be.

She stifles a yawn as she then dresses for bed, slipping her shoes off with a relieved sigh. An ache is present in her toes, and Adeline winces at the state of her feet as she finally sits down.

Her husband is away checking the state of a new training outpost, so she’s been running around twice as much as normal. Adeline would have gone along with him, but Zelda was too small to travel, and things needed to be kept up with here.

Though the extra amount of work she’s had to deal with along with a baby has been taxing, even without the added stress of traveling, and she is, admittedly, worn out.

It used to be I could handle a week of days like this without batting an eye, she thinks as she lays back on her bed with a sigh. And look at me now. Nothing but an exhausted mother with achy feet.

Zelda lets out a soft coo in her sleep, and Adeline can’t help her smile.

I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

A quiet rapping at her door makes her ears prick, and Adeline sits up, then reluctantly stands when the knocking repeats a few moments later. Seems she won’t get to rest just yet.

“Just a moment please,” she calls, putting on a comfortable pair of slippers and a robe, and then heads to the door.

She opens it, and is met with the familiar sight of one of her closest friends, Impa’s red eyes bright in the dim lighting of the hallway.

Adeline smiles. She hasn’t seen Impa all that much since she got back from her most recent assignment, even though Impa was recently appointed her daughter’s bodyguard. But her smile slips as she realizes Impa looks terrible, dark circles under her eyes, hair slipping out of its usual neat bun. She seems like she’s barely standing, and Adeline puts a hand on her arm in worry.

“Impa? What brings you here so late?” Adeline asks. “Not that I’m not glad to see you, but... are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry to disturb you your highness. But I need... I need to speak with you,” Impa says in a small voice, unusually small for her.

Adeline’s worry deepens, but she nods at her, and quickly gestures Impa in. She leads her to the small couch in her quarters, and Impa sits, her arms crossed over her middle and face oddly nervous.

The queen sits next to her, giving her room, but close enough to offer support if it’s wanted. She’s had an exhausting day, but her friend is far more important than getting a proper night’s sleep. Especially if she’s resorting to visiting her so late in the day, looking so terrible. It must be important.

“So what is it you need, Impa?” Adeline asks lightly, leaning back on her seat. “Is something wrong?”

Impa continues to stare at the floor, her face curiously blank as her arms tighten around her middle. When she still doesn’t say anything, Adeline hesitantly puts a hand on Impa’s shoulder, and she flinches, finally looking over and meeting her eyes.

Adeline is shocked to see tears in them.

“Impa..?” she asks softly, urgently.

Maybe it’s her quiet voice, maybe it’s her hand on her shoulder, or maybe it’s even the fact that Impa is actually very close to her breaking point, but all of a sudden her tears spill over and Impa is crying.

Adeline stares in further shock at the tears streaming down Impa’s face before quickly tugging her into a hug, her friend’s breath hitching with quiet sobs.

“Impa, whatever is the matter?” she asks as Impa cries into her shoulder, worry thick in her voice. She’s never seen Impa like this, her strong, stoic friend heaving soft sobs into her arms. Not even when they were children did Impa cry like this— something must be terribly wrong.

Impa sniffles.

“I think—” she says, letting out a hiccup. “I think I made a mistake.”

Adeline meets her eyes, Impa shakily wiping some tears away, and gives her shoulder a squeeze.

“Tell me what happened,” she says gently, and Impa nods, breathing out.

Adeline rings for some tea before they start, needing something to keep herself awake, and knowing Impa will appreciate it. She knows her friend’s favorite brew, and Impa does look calmer once she has the warm beverage in her hands, her tears stopped for the moment.

Impa sighs.

“During— during the assignment,” she finally begins, looking down at her tea and not at Adeline. “With the diplomatic party to the Eldin caves. You know we met with the Gorons, but they aren’t the only ones who live in that area.”

“Yes... I recall mentions of a dragon before. I believe he was to be included in the negotiations,” Adeline replies with a gentle nod. “All of the reports said everything went very well... were they incorrect?”

“No, they were correct,” Impa says, taking a long sip of tea. “The ambassador did his job well. The negotiations went exceptionally, with both parties.”

She sniffles again.

“Other matters just... didn’t.”

Adeline offers her a handkerchief, but Impa shakes her head, her tears stopped for now.

“What happened, Impa?” Adeline asks gently, aware there’s something her friend isn’t saying. Impa sighs, and tightly closes her eyes, holding her tea cup so tightly Adeline wonders if it will break.

“...I fell in love,” she whispers finally. “With the dragon knight Volga.”

The words are like a cold splash of water, Adeline blinking in shock, but as Impa squeezes her eyes shut, Adeline shakes off her disbelief and gently pats her shoulder.

“Oh Impa,” she says softly.

Impa breathes shakily in through her nose.

“I thought him insufferable at first, prideful and so full of himself. To my dismay we kept ending up together, during meetings and dinners and spars and everything, it seemed like he was always around with a smirk on his lips and some ignorant comment. It wasn’t until there was a monster attack and we fought together that somehow I realized there was more to him, and we just... we grew closer. We didn’t trust each other a bit at first, but somehow things changed, and we... suddenly we were in love,” Impa whispers, clutching her teacup.

“I did wonder why you barely wrote to me,” Adeline says, putting her hand over Impa’s. “I assumed you were too busy... which I suppose was correct, in a way.”

Impa almost smiles, then breaths in slowly.

“Yes. I apologize for not doing so. Between Volga and my duties, I had little free time,” she says, setting her tea cup down. “But back to what happened. I... it turns out dragon courting customs are different then both Hylian and Sheikah. I gifted Volga a particularly interesting crystal I discovered one day after we sparred, but it turns out the way I presented it, and what happened beforehand... it is the first step of how dragons propose to one another.“

Adeline can’t help her gasp.

“You proposed unknowingly?”

“Yes. Volga reciprocated, but I did not realize what had happened at first... but once we both figured out what had happened, I... I went along with it. And we were married. Or, mates, as he put it.”

Adeline mulls the tale over for a moment, almost unable to believe it despite hearing it from Impa herself. Impa is many things, but impulsive is not one of them, and going along with a marriage she did not intend is... very unlike her.

Which can only mean...

“...You truly love him, don’t you?” Adeline asks softly, and Impa closes her eyes.

“I... I did. I do. Let me finish,” she whispers. “We kept everything a secret, so as not to cause problems with the negotiations. I... also do not know what others’ reactions would be, especially the other Sheikah. Volga keeps company with monsters, even if he is not one himself. So we kept it all hidden. And everything was going so well despite all of the secrecy, and we were happy, the both of us, but... but then it was time for the ambassador to leave. And me with him.”

Impa’s voice shakes a little. “Volga thought I would stay with him, help him guard over the caves. I told him I couldn’t, not with my duty to Hyrule and the royal family, and my tribe as well. I wanted us to continue our relationship from a distance, but somehow it all just... went wrong. We fought, badly, and I...”

Impa wipes a hand over her eyes. “I left. I was out of time. I tried to talk to Volga once more before leaving, but he refused to speak to me. And now...”

Impa’s voice breaks, and Adeline puts her hand on her shoulder.

“I’m expecting,” she chokes out, and begins to cry in earnest again. “I’m expecting, Addy, and I don’t know what to do.”

Adeline pulls Impa back into a hug again, and her friend sobs, hurt and fear and anger and grief all spilling out with her cries.

“Oh Impa, you’ve been dealing with all of this alone?” Adeline breathes, holding her tight. “You’ve been back for weeks, I can’t imagine...”

No wonder she hasn’t been the same since she returned.

Adeline holds Impa tighter, and does nothing but rub a soothing hand along her back for several minutes, Impa trying to get a hold of herself and failing quite miserably.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll figure this out, I promise,” Adeline says gently, and Impa wipes a hand over her eyes. “Do you know how far along you are?”

“Somewhere around two months,” Impa whispers. “I began to suspect shortly after returning, but the signs are unmistakable now. I confirmed it earlier.”

She sniffles and wipes another hand over her eyes, and Adeline pulls back a little.

“We’ll figure this out,” she repeats gently, taking Impa’s hands in hers. “Things will be okay, Impa. For you and your baby.”

“But this child shouldn’t even exist!” Impa cries, her eyes even more red then normal. “They will be half dragon, Adeline, and we may have an agreement that Volga is technically a part of now, but he is still not trusted! A relationship with him is unthinkable among the Sheikah, they might not even accept our marriage as legitimate! How will my tribe react at the news that I carry his child?” she chokes out.

“Impa, all will be well,” Adeline says gently.

“I will not be able to fulfill my duties to you and the princess if I have my own child to care for!” Impa says thickly. “And my tribe may very well kick me out once they learn what I’ve done. How will all be well, your majesty? Answer me that.”

“Because I will help you,” she assures, voice firm with conviction. “You are not alone, Impa. I am on your side.”

She squeezes Impa’s hands.

“I’ll help you think of a plan. A great many things can be blamed on a sleep-deprived queen who recently had a baby,” she says with a wink. “If we work together, we can keep things quiet, and nobody will ever need to know who the father is. You’ll both be safe.”

“I can’t ask that of you your majesty,” Impa whispers, and Adeline sighs, looking at her tea which is now lukewarm at best.

Zelda shifts a little in her crib across the room, but she doesn’t wake, and silence falls over the room.

“...Do you remember when we were younger, and we pretended we were sisters?” Adeline asks after a minute. Impa nods, a minuscule smile forming on her tearstained face.

“Yes. You insisted we should be twins, despite you being three years older and us both looking nothing alike.”

“Oh, we looked plenty alike, hush,” Adeline huffs, and Impa’s smile grows just a little. “...my point is that we looked out for each other then, before either of us had any sort of importance beyond titles that were meaningless to us both. That hasn’t changed. I want to help you, Impa.”

Impa looks at her, gratitude shining in her eyes, but her gaze is still dim with grief.

“You’re certain?” she asks quietly.

Adeline nods again. “I’m certain. You’re my friend, Impa, I won’t leave you to figure this out by yourself. Plus you’ve saved my life at least twice, this is the least I can do.”

“You know I don’t require repayment for that,” she murmurs.

“No, but I still want to help you,” Adeline replies decisively, and tugs Impa into a hug again. “We can get to work on a plan as soon as you’re ready. I’m behind you all the way.”

Impa exhales, lowering her gaze, and Adeline can’t help but notice when her arm returns to resting around her middle.

The silence falls back between them, drained and quiet, and Adeline rests her head back on the couch they’re on, the tiredness she’d forgotten about now returning. She doesn’t want to deny Impa the comfort of having someone sit with her though, not after so long with dealing with this alone, and so she remains where she is, Impa’s head resting on her shoulder.

“...I’m scared,” Impa suddenly whispers, in a voice so quiet that Adeline barely hears it.

Adeline swallows, and gently sets her head against hers. “All I can tell you is that I was too,” she replies softly. “And that I’m here to help. You’re not alone, Impa.”

Impa lets out a sigh, heavy with exhaustion and grief, and Adeline knows there’s nothing more she can say.

All she can do is continue to hold her friend, and support her as best as she can.

#making an oc the focus here was hard hhhhhbjgdfbhd #legend of zelda #hyrule warriors #ish #hdw au #Impa #loz Impa #loz oc #fic #legend of zelda fanfiction #writing from the floor #don’t tag as ship thanks #except Volga/Impa obviously #but um. yeah #impa seems a little ooc here but she’s a mess she has an excuse #poor girlie #good thing she’s got a big sister-friend though #...I just realized I haven’t thought much about Impa’s family #except for one thing #but I’ll think more about that #this has been: hdw au. tune in next time to see link accidentally catch Zeldas skirt on fire

[manicpixiedreamcurl]

The More You Give ❧ (Part V)

Pairing | Eddie x reader

Warnings | 18+ minors and blank blogs don’t interact, bullying, friendship comes and goes, discussions of anxiety, discussions of virginity, discussions of sex shaming, frottage (PUSSYJOB), everyone’s very vulnerable.

Word count | ~11,800

A/N | Oooh, mama. It’s been a while. I hope most of the people who like this fic are still around.

Taglist

Previous Chapter

❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❦

You like calling Eddie, the sound of his voice over the phone. The way he answers it differently each time:

“This is Eddie Munson, lead guitarist of Corroded Coffin; available for christenings, bar mitzvahs and weddings.”

“Munson residence. The old guy’s out so if you’re looking to buy a collection of novelty mugs now’s the time.”

“You’ve reached the church of Satan; Abaddon the Destroyer speaking. For your free introductory handbook on summoning circles just dial six-six-six.”

And then there’s the happy rise in his tone when he hears it’s you on the other side, the surprised laugh at the sound of your soft hi, Eddie even when he’d asked you to call. The crackle of his breath through the receiver, the way conversations with him are easy however they happen. With anyone else, phone calls feel stilted and awkward, but Eddie talks as if you’re sitting right in front of him. 

It makes you warm all over to think about. Eddie wants to see you and kiss you and touch you, but he’s also happy to sit on his couch miles away and speak to you, listen in return to everything you can bring yourself to say.

You have taken to dragging a chair from the kitchen and sitting by the hallway table to talk to him like this whenever you don’t see him in the evening. You spend an hour or two at a time smiling at your mom’s address book, twirling the coiled cord of the phone around your finger while Eddie talks about this day, asks about yours, explains why he’s really into this new Swedish black metal band he’s discovered, checks what you’re reading, shares an idea he has for Hellfire, plans your next date.

Today is no exception. Your dad has walked past muttering about the phone bill twice. Your mom, as usual, has stationed herself in the kitchen within earshot, but what exactly she gets out of hearing the low buzz of Eddie’s voice and your laughter, you don’t know.

"And you're sure you don't wanna come, sweet girl?" 

"Yeah, I-" You hesitate, playing with a rose petal from the bowl of potpourri that sits by the phone. "I think I should stay here. Just in case." 

In truth, you don't have much hope that May will call, but imagining that she does and you aren’t here to receive it fills you with worry. The last thing you want is to make things any worse between you after you messed up so badly. 

It’s not unusual for you to feel this type of regret. When overthinking something delays your actions until it’s too late. You worried so much about how to tell May about Eddie that you left it too long. You should have told her the day you kissed him, should have phoned when you got back from your first date. Instead, you spent your time imagining the conversation, and let your best friend find out something important through somebody else. 

You hurt her. She is wounded enough that she really has given up defending you. When Caroline remarks on your silence now, May doesn't attempt to fill the emptiness your lumping throat leaves. 

"She's just shy," May used to say, waving her hand. Her embarrassment over your stumbled words and fidgeting hands was clear, then, but you knew she felt for you, even if she didn't understand why she had to. Now she just looks at you expectedly like everyone else, pulls awkward, embarrassed faces when you stumble and fidget through a non-answer.

You had taken to spending more of your lunches helping Heather with her new responsibilities as class president, sitting quietly at debate club and nodding along to her speeches, taking the role of a small country at her model UN meetings. But you are starting to feel her frustration with you, too. 

“You don’t have to come to every meeting if you don’t enjoy it.” She said to you after the last UN encounter you’d sat through without uttering a word.

“It’s just, I don’t really know much about Anguilla. But I like hearing you speak.”

Heather smiled with her lips closed. “That’s not what it’s for, though. I think maybe you’d prefer having lunch with May and the cheerleading girls again.”

You felt your cheeks burning, pulled the sleeves of your cardigan down over your hands and fiddled with the woollen edges. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Sometimes you think about sitting at Eddie’s table instead. To have another hour of him every day. The picture is nice on its own. Talking to him, to Jeff, even the freshmen Eddie has adopted since the beginning of the year. But then the image zooms out; you at the Hellfire table, May with the cheerleaders, Heather at her clubs, and your chest aches. You don’t know when it happened, when you had to start holding on this tight, digging your nails into them. You only know you’ll leave claw marks on your friendship before you let it go easy.

And while you can never get enough Eddie, you aren’t normally deprived of him outside of the school walls. With anyone else, you might have worried about suffocating him, being clingy. But Eddie makes it clear at every turn how much he wants to be around you. His grin in the mornings when you climb into his van. The way he leans into your space, hair tickling your cheeks, and asks all soft and earnest if you want to go home with him. Some days, he invites you into the trailer to touch and taste you. Others, to sit on his couch or his bed and talk. Or to just spend hours just breathing the same air as him, listening to him scribble in his D&D notebook or strum at his guitar while you read or do your homework. 

But you won't see him tonight. Eddie is going to see Fright Night with most of the boys in his club, and it's all he's talked about the past week. He'd asked you to come, all wide brown eyes and dimples, and your stomach had twisted. 

"Normally May and I do something around this time each month." You hadn't been able to look him in the eye when you said it, fiddling with his hands instead. You'd rubbed the softness of your thumb over the callused pads of his fingers, knowing he had that look he'd been getting whenever you found yourself bringing your friend up. A little sad, guilt he shouldn't be feeling. Irritation, at you or at her you're not brave enough to ask. 

"You sure?" He asks over the phone now. "It'd be pretty easy for me to pick you up. I'm giving Wheeler a ride. He's just down the street from your place." 

You feel a wave of fondness for him, for the lie he’s just told. He isn’t aware that you know exactly where Mike Wheeler lives. You’ve babysat Holly since you were sixteen, and the route to her home takes half an hour in your dad's car. 

"I'm sure," you say, trying to sound firm. "But I hope you like the movie."

"If it's good, maybe we can see it together another time." 

"You wouldn't mind going twice?" 

"I'd watch the same movie twenty times in a row if you promised to come to the last one." He laughs, sounding enough like he means it that your smile hurts your cheeks. 

"That might be a touch excessive," you murmur. "Twice sounds like enough."

"How about tomorrow? We could get dinner first, make a real date out of it." 

Your face heats up like the first time Eddie asked you out. You touch your toe to your ankle, winding the cord of the phone tight around your finger. You whisper. "Okay."

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." You press your knees together. "That sounds nice."

"Unless the movie's shit, then we'll have to call the whole thing off." You laugh down the phone, imagining the tease in Eddie’s smile. "I'll have a review for you by tomorrow, sweet thing."

"Okay, Eddie."

"And I'm not leaving for another ten minutes. If you change your mind, just call, okay?"

"Okay, Eddie," you repeat. "Have a nice time."

"See you soon, beautiful." 

Your toes curl. "See you soon." 

When he's gone and the phone is back in its holder, you have to sit tense and still for a second to avoid making some kind of happy squeal, settling for curling your fingers into your skirt and tapping your heels wildly against the floor. 

You still feel a little dizzy with the thought of him when you pull the chair back into the kitchen, enough that you jump when your mom speaks. "That Eddie on the phone?" 

You fix her with a look, because she knows exactly who you were talking to, and she gives you a mock innocent smile that shifts into a real one. 

“You were laughing a lot.”

Her hands drip soapy water from the kitchen sink, finishing up the dishes that would have been done ten minutes ago if she hadn't dragged it out for an excuse to stay where she could hear you. You chew the inside of your lip while you take the next freshly cleaned plate from her. Grabbing a dry dish cloth to drag across the ceramic, you shrug one shoulder. 

“He’s funny.”

“And you like that about him?”

“Mom.”

“Just a question!” She says, holding her hands up, before grabbing the dish towel from you to wipe her wet hands. “You talk more, when it’s him on the phone. Did you know that?”

“You listen to all my conversations?”

“I���m your mother,” she laughs, bumping your hip with hers. “And I’ve never heard you so chatty.” You give her another look and she reconsiders. "Chatty for you. There's been times I've rounded that corner surprised you were even on the phone, you're so quiet. I mean, with that last boy-” She hums a disapproving tone, reaches out to fix the collar of your cardigan. "I swear you'd sit there and not say anything at all."

“It's easier to talk to Eddie,” you admit, thinking about how pleased he looks when you ramble about what you're reading, the last kid you babysat, even the new eyeshadow palette you’d saved up for and felt a touch immature being so excited about. All his encouraging nods, all the questions and affirmations afterwards. "He's…" 

He’s a million good things. Too many to name, too many to put in order. You glance at her to the side, raising one shoulder. 

"I like him," she declares. "I think he's good for you." 

Your face is hot and uncomfortable, but it still feels nice to agree. "I think so, too." 

When the dishes are away and your mom is settled on the couch with your dad watching Quincy reruns, you walk slowly upstairs, hoping that the phone will ring again before your door closes. 

You make a bet with yourself in your head. If it rings before I get to my room, it’ll be May. It’ll be May and she’ll want to be friends again and everything will be alright. You reach the top, spy the door the end of the hall. Any time after, it’ll be somebody else; a sales call, a chatty relative. 

All you hear as you pad across the landing is your parents laughing at the TV. 

With your door closed, your heart sore, you glance at your desk on the other side of the room, the cork pin board behind it decorated with memories. There is your first concert ticket, next to a postcard from the first time you left this country by plane. An askew origami frog that a boy you used to babysit made for you. A pom-pom that detached from the winter hat you wore from October to March three years running in middle school. 

There is Heather. One photo as she is now, smiling at you over a yellow smoothie. Another couple from your first years together, at the edge of womanhood. Her in braces and her mother's lipstick, the aquamarine taffeta dress she wore to your first high school prom. 

And there is May. She is everywhere, over and over again, in all the stages of her life since you met. She is in pigtails, her small hand in yours, her gap toothed grin next to your close lipped smile. She is in this room, with sparkling eyelids, the earliest and most keen model for your interest. She is at the Spring fair of 1979, holding cotton candy you'd shared soon after the photo was taken. She is at that first concert, decked out in Wham! merchandise. Swim meets and cheer competitions. A line of photo booth strips. You are there with her; both giggling, eyes crossed and tongues rolled. 

May has been a constant in your life, but now your life has shifted. Maybe you have to accept that she doesn’t want to shift with it. 

The phone rings downstairs. 

You hear your dad huff, the sound of your mom rising from the couch and heading through the hall. You hold your breath, listen to the buzz of her landline specific voice, all breezy politeness. Then she calls your name.

You practically throw yourself down the stairs, slipping at the last couple in your socks. You have to hold yourself back from grabbing the phone from her. Taking just a second to glance over your shoulder to check that she's actually walking away, you whisper into the phone. “Hello?”

"Where are you? I rented Footloose." Tears prick in your eyes at the sound of May’s voice. You look up to the ceiling, silent for too long. “You still there?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Where are you?” She repeats. “Second Friday of the month. It’s movie night.”

“I didn’t-” You swallow, blinking tears away as they rise and trying not to sniffle. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to see me.”

"Of course I want to see you,” she answers. “You're my best friend."

You feel your bottom lip shaking, can’t fight the sniffles this time. You drag the sleeve of your cardigan across your eyes, voice cracking when you speak next. "You really mean it, May?"

"I’m inviting you round, aren’t I?” She says, sharp tone softened by a sigh crackling in your ear through the receiver. “Of course I mean it.” You hum a high sound, a stifled sob of relief, eyes squeezed shut. “Now, come watch Kevin Bacon shake his ass with me." 

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You are warm under the silken soft quilt pulled from May’s bed. Your stomach is heavy with buttered popcorn and gummy worms. Your skin is soft from the homemade face masks you made in her kitchen, singing along to Cyndi Lauper and listening to May read the recipe aloud from the newest YM magazine dropped on her doorstep just this morning.

Stirring oatmeal and yoghurt together like a potion, you felt a pang of nostalgia. For a second, you were seven years old, standing with May over a muddy puddle, your makeshift cauldron brimming with gathered leaves, stones, and red berries. You’d mix it up with long, gnarled twigs and cackle together like the witches. The mucky water wasn’t just mud, then. It was poison, it was love potion. It was magic, made together. 

Today, at eighteen, you glanced up at May’s concentrated face while she attempted to separate egg whites from yolks, and let yourself be soothed by the thought that maybe some things are still as they were. 

Footloose was abandoned after Kevin Bacon finished throwing himself rhythmically around an empty warehouse, May’s interest in it vanishing swiftly after that. You found yourself on the couch talking while the film played on in the background until the popcorn was finished and the oats could be washed from your face. 

Then May led you up to her room, almost as familiar to you as your own. 

The cream lambskin rug, still matted and stained in one corner from that time you’d spilt nail polish over it. Terrified you might not be allowed to come over anymore, May told her mom it was her, and she was grounded for a week. 

You bought her those fairy lights, the ones that hang above her bed. Last year, you wrapped them in pink tissue paper, felt the satisfying swell of a present well chosen when she’d hugged you tight with the box still in her hand. 

May has her own cork board. Amongst plastic medals and concert tickets, there is you at that fair, you and Heather at prom, the second strip from the photo booth. 

“And it’s like, when was it decided that we had to pick our whole future at eighteen, anyway?” May asks, eyebrows twitching like she wants to furrow them. She fights through it, keeping them high on her forehead to let you smooth powder over her lids. “Here I am, barely out of the cradle!” You snort, and her mouth tilts a touch. “Feels like I started walking last week, and now it’s all, what do you mean you don’t have a clue what you want to do with your life? It just feels crazy to me.”

“It is.” You shift forward on the soft shag carpet, your knees bumping hers under the throw keeping your legs warm. 

“Right? I mean, you know that your brain doesn’t even really mature until you’re, like, twenty-five? So I am close enough to a child that I really shouldn’t have this responsibility.”

Humming in agreement, you rub your thumb at the corner of her eye, smudging the edge of the lilac eyeshadow there. 

“At least I have an idea where I’m going. Indiana State, here I come. You’re still applying for NYU, right?”

“Mm. Maybe,”

“Oh, come on, you have to apply at least!” She insists, eyelids twitching. “It’s the place to be, for your poetry, right?”

You hum. “I might still do Chemistry.”

“Chemis- absolutely not!” Her eyes fly open, and you make a noise of protest.

“I’m not done!”

“You are not doing Chemistry.” May says, a comic picture with one eye bordered by soft pastel tones, the other bare of colour, while she looks at you sternly. “You don’t enjoy it!”

“But I could get a job at the end,” you reason. 

May snorts, eyes closing gently, chin peaking out to let you get back into it as though she’s already won the argument. “Job schmob,” she says. “When you’re in New York, you can find a rich man to worry about that.” You frown, and like she senses it, the eye you’re not working on opens again. “Or find a rich man for me. He has to be really rolling in it though, so he can look after us both.”

You hear Eddie’s voice in your ear like he’s in the room with you. Just wait, I’ll look after you. 

“Think you can do that?” May asks. “Keep an eye out for me, when you’re making all your arty, interesting friends in New York?”

You swallow, tuning back into the conversation. “I don’t think really want me to find you a man.”

“Mmph. The way my love life is going, I’ll need whatever help I can get.” She moves a little then, a slight tilt of her head that would be imperceptible to anyone but you, who's seen every degree of emotion on May’s face. You know she’s going to drop something serious before she even opens her mouth. “I saw Liam last week.”

You fight through the temptation to stop blending the eyeshadow on her lids, keeping your tone as even as possible. “Oh?”

“When I was in Indianapolis with the girls?” Those trips with the cheerleaders you avoid desperately. The thought of being stuck in a car with Caroline on the way there and back can make you break out in a cold sweat. “He was at one of the bars. He apologised, said he wanted to maybe go out again.”

“Mm.”

“Oh, don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything-”

“That was your judgy mmmh,” she says, batting your hand away from her face to look at you straight. “Last time I heard it was when I showed you that top I bought last month.”

Despite yourself, you crack at the memory of the flouncy pink thing she’d shown you with an awkward, self-aware smile. You’d been working out how to gently tell her to burn it when she’d figured out the tone of your hum and thrown it off in front of you with a whispered, “what was I thinking?” 

Now, your tilted lips turn down at May’s solemn expression, her eyes shiny. 

You shuffle closer, tucking the blanket around the both of you gently, cocooning your legs in together. “He hurt you, last time. Used you.” 

She chews her lip. “That’s what boys do.”

“May-”

“I know you think what happened with Andy was bad, but you’ll learn, that’s just how they are. They need a little more forgiveness than girls, and some of them are worth it.”

You feel the beginning of the argument she might not be quite past. “Andy didn’t really like me, May. He only wanted-”

“The same thing they all want. The only thing they all want.”

Your heart aches for her. “That’s not true.”

“You think it’s not true right now, but when you hold out on Munson the way you did with Andy, you’ll see that it is.”

You fiddle with your fingers then, wondering if you should tell her. The guilt of not sharing that you’d started seeing Eddie prickles along the back of your neck. Your knee starts to bounce, and May blinks at you, just as attune to the meaning of your expressions. “Well, with Eddie-”

“Please, please, tell me you haven’t fucked Eddie Munson.”

“No. I mean, not yet but,” you begin, fiddling with your skirt. “Like, we’ve done, y’know, other stuff.” You glance at her shocked face, worry rising. “Don’t tell anyone. Please.”

“Why would I tell anyone something that would literally ruin what’s little is left of your reputation? You wouldn’t let Andy do anything but you’ve been seeing the freak for a few weeks and you’re, what, sitting in his dirty van giving him hand jobs?”

“Oh my god, May!”

“What? What am I supposed to think?”

You shake your head, tense your hands in your clothes. “It’s not like that with Eddie.” Your mind is awash with shiny brown eyes, soft pink cheeks, Eddie’s voice tickling your neck. “I don’t worry about anything, with him. It’s fun.”

“It’s fun.”

“It’s like, I thought sex was something a boy would do to me, something I’d have to let him do. With Andy, it was like if he took me on dates, it was what he would get in return,” you say, fiddling with the blanket. “But with Eddie it’s like,” you hum, hating how awkward this all sounds, so unused to talking about sex yourself, so used to hearing it from other, experienced, confident people. “We go on dates together, and talk together. And then with the, y’know, sexual stuff, we’re doing it…together.”

“But not really doing it, right?”

“No. But my point is,” you continue, grabbing her hand, clasping it in both of yours. “I know I don’t really know anything about boys, and I know you’re not Eddie’s biggest fan. But even though it’s not been long, I think he’s proof that, maybe, sometimes, boys aren’t what either of us thought. And if you really like Liam, then maybe he deserves your forgiveness. But I really, really don’t think he does if he hasn’t made you think twice about what all boys want. And maybe if you found somebody like Eddie-” She makes a face, but you ignore it. “I mean, somebody who doesn’t ask you to forgive them all the time. I think that would be better.”

“Well, I can tell you right now, I don’t want an Eddie.” You press your lips together, listen to her sigh. “But you’re also…probably, maybe right about Liam.”

“He doesn’t deserve you, May. I mean, to apologise when you happened to be at the same bar! If he was really sorry, he should have come to see you with flowers and everything. He probably just saw you, all pretty, and realised what a dunce he’d been.”

She smiles a little at the vitriol in your voice, usually so soft and quiet. “I missed you.”

You almost flinch. “I’ve been here.”

“You stopped sitting with me at lunch.” 

“I…” You close your mouth, shrug instead. 

“I know it’s partly my fault. I was angry, so I stopped defending you. But then, I mean, you just gave up.” 

“I just- Some of the cheer girls are so intimidating, I never know what to say to them.”

“But you don’t try.” Your heart is sore, the guilt of knowing you’ve made life a little more difficult for her. “Listen, if you want to date Eddie Munson, I can be okay with that. I am okay with that.” She nods, seemingly trying to convince herself. “But will you just try, a little more, with the cheer girls? You don’t have to defend your relationship all the time, but maybe just try talking to them about something else? You could come on our next trip!” 

Your toes curl at the thought. “I don’t know.” 

“Please? We can’t let a boy come between us.” You wonder what she’d say if she knew how hard Eddie seems to try not to come between you. “I like Heather, even though she abandoned us. And I like the cheer girls. But I love you. You’re my best friend.”

“I love you, May. It won’t change.”

“So you’ll try?”

You chew the inside of your lip, give her a little nod that has her breaking out into a smile. “Okay. Okay, great.”

You try not to think about exactly what you’ve just compromised on while you finish her make up. May sits, silent and smiling while you sweep dark eyeliner across her lids, brush mascara over her long lashes.

“There, all done.” You love this bit. May turns to the floor length mirror beside you and grins at her reflection, her pretty eyes bordered by soft pastels from your new palette. It sends a warmth through you that you’d never admit to. Knowing you’re good at this, that even the cheer girls who think you’re weird admire the way you’ll do their make up at competitions. “It’s cool, right?”

“I love it,” she breathes, shifting closer to the mirror enough that the warm throw pulls from the tops of your legs, leaving your thighs chilly. “Just one last question. You’re not gonna play that Satanist game, right?”

Your brain short circuits, having thought you’d just agreed that you wouldn’t have to explain yourself. “Um, It’s really not what you think.” 

The scene plays out in your mind. Eddie, his lips on yours, your hands tangled in his hair, letting you tilt your hips to rub yourself over his thigh, suddenly pulled away from you with a gasp. He’d thrown himself from the bed dramatically, holding his open jeans up by the waistband. You’d watched him, breathless and warm, while he scrambled for a pen before writing in his D&D notebook and looking up at you in excitement. “I just thought of a really cool way to lure them into this whole cave thing I’ve been planning. Shit. They’re so fucked.” Before you could consider being offended that that’s what he’d been thinking about while kissing you, your legs were over his shoulders, his lips were smiling at your thigh. 

You can’t help your fond laugh. “Eddie’s such a dork about it. Last week-” You pause at her expression, realising that May probably doesn’t want to hear that story. You clear your throat. “They just pretend to be fantasy characters.” Witches over a cauldron, Princesses sharing a Kingdom. “Like we used to do, sorta.”

“Yeah, when we were kids.”

You have to swallow the lump that brings up to your throat. To hear her dismissal of the time you’ve been daydreaming about since you walked through her front door. “It’s not Satanist.”

“But you’re still not going to play it, right?”

“No,” you say, feeling cold. “I don’t think I’d be very good at it, anyway.”

She watches you for a second, but says nothing before grabbing the eyeshadow palette from the floor beside you. “Let me try, then. Get you all glammed up for making s’mores later.”

You smile with closed lips, let your eyes fall shut. You have to ignore the pang in your heart, the reminder that some things are entirely different from when you were seven. 

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“You know, I kinda thought there’d be more trembling.” Eddie’s breath tickles your ear as he whispers, again when he blows cool air on your neck just to see you wriggle a little while you look up at him, wide eyed. His pale face is illuminated only by the screen at the front of the room, but you can still see the mischief in his eyes, in the barely there turn of his smile. “I was told that taking a pretty girl to a scary movie would have you grabbing my thigh in pure terror. That you’d need me to comfort you with my masculinity.” 

You just about fight off the laugh, still glad that you are sequestered together in the back row when a soft amused noise escapes your throat. On screen, the newly transformed and aptly named Evil Ed laughs maniacally. The special effects and practical make up are impressive, but the whole thing has enough of a teen movie vibe that you’ve been about as scared as you were watching Kevin Bacon stuck on a tractor yesterday. 

“You and your masculinity should have picked a scarier movie.” You feel the flutter of nerves that accompanies teasing Eddie back, still always a little worried that it will come out wrong. The answer of Eddie stifling his laughter, eyes crinkling at the sides, has the butterflies scattering. 

“Noted,” Eddie whispers, cheeks dimpled. It strikes you how close he is now, his breath spreading over your cheeks. He leans down more, his nose at your temple, his lips pressing soft to the skin beside your eye. You shut both, breath shaking as Eddie’s mouth leaves a handful of kisses down your cheek to the corner of your mouth. There, he feels you twitch, and his eyes open to find you tense in your seat, fingers curled in your sleeves. 

You are fighting the urge to turn and check the rest of the row, the whole room, to make sure nobody is watching. The image of an attendant appearing with a flashlight taunts you, the thought of being escorted out of the theatre in shame. You open your mouth, trying to work out what to say, but Eddie just smiles at you. His hand finds yours, fingers tangling together in a gentle squeeze. 

“Sorry,” he whispers, licking his lips quickly. “M’sorry, baby.” 

You watch him lean back in his seat, face set in contentment to be sitting with you and feeling your palm against his. You’d been worried for a second there, that he might be angry with you, or that you might have to explain your worries until he understood. But it’s Eddie. 

You stare at his profile, the soft curls the brush his face, his pouty lips, and find you really, really want to kiss him, here and now. Eddie’s your boyfriend, you remind yourself with a shiver of happiness. Teenage girls have been kissing their boyfriends in the backs of movie theatres since the projector was invented, so why, why, shouldn’t you kiss yours?

You rub at the sleeve of your cardigan with your free hand, letting yourself have the comfort of looking around you quickly to make sure there really isn’t anyone else in this row, or even the one in front. With your eyes closed tight, you remind yourself that the boy who ripped your tickets looked about fifteen, not quite dedicated enough to this job to search the rows looking for kissing teenagers with an invasive flashlight. 

Pressing your knees together, you cuddle into Eddie’s side, smell his two-in-one shampoo and his aftershave and his skin. You press a kiss to his cheek, feel a little scratch of early stubble against your lips. His head turns, eyes scanning over your face. “We don’t have to, sweet thing.”

“I know.” You nod, tilting your chin up in petition. “Please?”

Eddie watches you for a second, giving you time to back out before he leans down to press his lips to yours. It’s a chaste thing; so quick that he has your mouth following him when he pulls away to make sure you’re still happy to kiss him here. Eddie breathes a soft laugh that has your stomach twisting, then his hand is covering your cheek. You feel his breath, your eyes close, and he’s kissing you. 

Eddie’s mouth is warm, but it tastes like blue raspberry slushy; sweet and sharp. At the first lick of his tongue against your lips, you feel a soft noise wanting to escape your throat, but it’s beaten back swiftly by the remaining fear that has your heart racing even as Eddie’s thumb smooths a gentle caress over your cheek. Underneath that is a new giddiness. The feeling that you’ve pushed past something, overcome a fear, however small. And to be doing this, making out with your boyfriend at the back of a movie theatre, like other girls have done.

Your arms find his shoulders, hands clasped together behind him, and Eddie smiles to your lips, just barely pulls away. His thumb stretches to rub your swollen bottom lip. “My brave girl.”

You shiver when he kisses you again, your toes curling in your sneakers. You think you could live on Eddie’s praise. Every pretty girl, smart girl, good girl he gives feels like it’s designed to leave you wanting to crawl onto his thighs, or else sit between them. Eddie’s mouth, intent on yours, wet enough that it feels like the start of something he definitely won’t finish in the back row of screen three, has you remembering how free he can be with his praise when your mouth is on him.

You weren’t expecting to like it so much, but thinking about the weight and taste of him in your mouth makes you squirm as much as the thought of his own tongue where you are most sensitive. You’ve enjoyed it every time since the first moment you spent looking up at him from between his thighs. Watching Eddie fight to keep his eyes on you, mess his own hair up when he forces himself not to take yours in his fist and push you down. His voice, desperate and breathy, coaxing you to try and take him just a little deeper, sweet thing. The quick hot flash of degradation when he taps his cock against your cheek or your tongue before pressing inside.

There is even something pleasant about the lasting ache in your jaw afterwards. The feeling that you’re willing and wanting to do something that hurts to make Eddie feel good is a sick satisfaction you're not yet used to.  

Cinema speakers fill the room with a swelling, dramatic soundtrack. A girl screams, a monster cries out in pain, no doubt making everyone else in the room jump in terror and shake with anticipation for how the whole thing will end. You can hear it, but only just, so firmly in the world of Eddie-Eddie-Eddie. 

Eddie has the beats of the movie memorised already, pulling away from you with a soft gasp just as the opening notes of the music over the end credits begin, a little line of spit connecting your lips until Eddie makes one last move to lick it away. 

The lights come up seconds later, the first groups of people standing to leave. They walk past you and Eddie, both breathless and dishevelled, without a second glance. Under the new lighting, Eddie’s cheeks are now clearly pink. It warms you from the inside out to know that you did that.

You feel the need to be close to Eddie as you leave, grasping onto his hand with both of yours when your jackets are on and he’s guiding you from the theatre. “How’d you like the movie?” He asks in the parking lot, dimples deep in his cheeks.

You hide your face in his arm, feeling that strange new embarrassment crawling up your spine. You mumble into the leather of his sleeve. “I hope nobody asks me how it ends.”

“Yeah, hadn’t thought about that.” Eddie opens the door to his van, holding your hand to help you up until you’re settled in the front seat. He leans in through the door with wide eyes. “Hey, maybe we could see it again next weekend?” 

You chew the inside of your lip. “Would I really see the end if we did?” 

His head falls forward, hair following in a wave. When his head tilts back up, one of his eyes is closed. “You figured me out that easy, huh?”

You smile at each other, Eddie looking over your face as you look over his. His big eyes, dark eyelashes, light freckles, sweet nose, plush pink lips. You’ve never seen another boy you could so comfortably describe as pretty.

You think he might walk round to his side, but instead you feel Eddie’s palm, warm at your knee. “So, uh, the thing is,” he rubs a circle with his thumb at the bottom of your thigh. “It’s Wayne’s day off, and most likely if we go to my place he’ll be in the living room watching MacGyver.”

“Oh.”

You feel guilty for being disappointed. Wayne is always polite, never breathes a word of complaint at the fact you seem to be in his home most days. The only inkling of irritation you get is never at you or Eddie. Instead, there is something in the way he drags himself from the trailer every evening, ready to stay up all night at the factory. When you’d asked where he slept, realising that the only bedroom in the trailer was the one decked out with posters and amps, Eddie had shown you the fold out bed in the living room with a close lipped smile. 

He is, more than anyone, due a day off. But you were gearing yourself up for being in Eddie’s bed tonight, trying to prepare the least awkward way of asking him. 

“And I’m happy to just hang out with you, sweet thing, you know that.” His hand squeezes, even the metal of his rings warm from his skin. “So we can go back to mine and watch MacGyver with the old man, or I could try to teach you some guitar again?” 

That’s tempting, certainly. You doubt sitting between Eddie’s legs with his arms around you, guiding your hands over his acoustic guitar was the most effective teaching method, but you certainly preferred it to any alternative. 

“But if you wanted,” Eddie continues. “Only if you wanted, I could maybe drive us to the quarry or something?” Eddie blinks, tucks some of his hair behind his ear with his free hand. “It’s, uh, quiet.”

Your heart beats a little faster, you can hear the sudden rush of it in your ears. “Okay.”

“Okay?” He asks, in that sweet way of his, wanting to make sure you’re not just acquiescing to everything he suggests. 

“Sounds good, I mean.”

“Okay,” he nods. “Belt on, sweet thing.” He gives your knee one last squeeze while you pull the belt over your front, then pushes away from the frame of the door. He taps a quick rhythm under the window when it’s closed, grins at you through the glass. You watch him jog round to the other side, hair flying out behind him, and wonder if every single thing he does will make you want him more. 

You sit in companionable silence while Eddie drives, feeling that soft comfort you only get with a few people, knowing that he’s not waiting for you to speak. You look out the window, watch the shops and gas stations disperse into houses which in turn give way to trees. All of them appear more as streaks of colour than clear pictures with the way Eddie drives, like he’s being judged on time. 

“Hey, can I play you something?” 

You turn from the window, taking a second to fully register the question before you hum a positive noise. Eddie’s right hand reaches out to turn on the stereo, the sudden attack to your ears of wailing guitar making you jump until he turns it down all the way with a sheepish smile, a murmured, “sorry.”

You watch Eddie’s hand, pale and lithe, as he skips through tracks. The metal chain that adorns his wrist is twisted a little at the leather clasp, and you reach to straighten it out with your thumb and first finger. When he’s found the right track, he turns it back up a touch, wiggles his fingers until you grab his hand. An urgent rhythm fills the van, the tell-tale guitars of all Eddie’s music, and he sighs, leaning back into his seat with a grin. 

“Hear the rime of the ancient mariner, see his eye as he stops one of three, mesmerises one of the wedding guests. Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.”

Something clicks.

“Oh, that’s a Coleridge poem!” You lean forward to turn it up further with your free hand, trying to concentrate on the words. It tells the whole story from the lyrical poem you’ve had a copy of since you took an interest in the romantics when you were fifteen; a mariner who kills an albatross and is blamed for the resulting misfortune by everyone on his ship. 

“I knew you’d know it. My smart girl.” Eddie is the picture of pride, eyes crinkled at the sides. “I was reading a Steve Harris interview - he, uh, writes most of Iron Maiden’s songs? And he mentioned the reference and I just thought, you know, you might think it was cool.”

“I do.” You picture Eddie, soft and comfy in his bed, flicking through a magazine. You imagine him reading about his favourite thing, and a spark lighting in his head relating to you. Something that made him excited to share it with you. “Thank you, Eddie.”

He shrugs, like it doesn’t mean anything, but his cheeks are blooming with pink. You can’t say anything else, for fear of blurting out every thought running through your head. 

You listen in silence, trying to decide how you want to ask him. Every way to say it feels awkward and wrong. Fuck me, take me, have sex with me. You picture asking Eddie to make love and feel a mix of yearning and nausea. By the time you reach the quarry, you have been playing with the ring on Eddie’s right hand, feeling the smooth stone, twisting it round his finger, for a good five minutes.

Eddie steals his hand from you while he parks by the trees opposite the quarry, pulling the keys from the ignition and throwing them on the dashboard before reaching out to let you take hold of his hand again. The easy quiet is gone. You can feel him waiting for you to speak. Your mind screams at you to remain silent, hating the thought that you might risk humiliation with Eddie. 

“Will you look at me, baby?” Eddie pulls your hands from between you. You follow it with your gaze, watch him press a kiss to your knuckles before you meet his eyes. "I really didn't mean to, you know, imply anything by bringing you here."

You shake your head emphatically. “I know. You’d never.”

Eddie breathes a little sigh from his nose, looking relieved. You think he has to be the sweetest boy ever born, and then you can’t help yourself. Eddie makes a soft happy noise when you bring your face to his, lets you kiss his soft bottom lip. He licks softly at yours, so you open your mouth to let him in, holding back a whine and reaching up to play with the collar of his denim vest; the material rough and familiar in your fingers. 

Eddie pulls from you, licks his lips, and breathes, "I can't get enough of that." 

"Mm?"

"The way you grab at me when you get a little shy."

Your eyes widen, processing the reminder that your silly little habits are not as inconspicuous as you might wish to believe. Of course Eddie has noticed the way you fiddle with his hands, his rings, his hair, his clothes, the second you feel an uptick in the pace of your heart. But then, Eddie just said he likes it. 

"S'not annoying?" 

“Not for me! They call me Eddie the stress toy, you know. People used to come for miles around to give me a squeeze."

You laugh at his attempt at an earnest face. "Used to?" 

"Yeah, well, you got exclusive rights, these days." Eddie says, tilting his head with a touch of endearing shyness. “What kinda idiot would I have to be, not to like my girl touching me all over?”

You want him, want him, want him.

You press your heated face to his shoulder, still playing with the frayed denim of his collar while you mumble into the vest. “Eddie?” You feel the vibration of his answering hum against your cheek. “I want-” You shake your head, as if you could bury yourself into his clothes. “Can we-” You turn your face, looking at the seat behind, all the space there. 

Eddie strokes at your waist. “You wanna, uh, get in the back?”

At your quick nod, Eddie clasps your cheek with his warm hand. He tilts your head, kisses you soundly. “Stay right there.” 

Eddie jumps from the van, legs swinging, and jogs round to your side to open the door for you. “Princess,” he says, offering you his hand with a flourish. You giggle, jumping down towards him and letting him lead you round to the back of his van like a gentleman. Still keeping up the routine, he opens the back door and gestures with a bow before helping you up. 

The back is a scene of amps and wires, a bass drum with CORRODED COFFIN scrawled over the skin. Luckily there is space enough for the two of you, so you settle yourself in the middle, surrounded by enough little pieces of Eddie that the back of this van feels a little like home. When you look up, Eddie’s still outside, staring in at you.  

You press your knees together, turn them to the side. “Eddie?”

“Yeah-” his voice breaks. He tries to hide it with a cough, clearing his throat and giving his chest a couple taps with the side of his fist. “Yeah,” he repeats, deeper now, as he climbs up after you. When the doors are closed, Eddie shuffles towards you, half squatting. “So, you’re happy with the carriage, Princess?” You nod, throat tight when Eddie kneels down in front of you. “That’s good.” Something in his face changes, a spark of excitement in his dark eyes. “You wanna lay back for me?” 

The space between your legs pulses. “Mm.”

“Here,” he says, pulling off his jacket and rolling it up into a makeshift pillow. You lean back and he leans in to place it below your head, face above yours while you settle into the soft leather. His hair tickles your cheeks until he tucks it back, staring down at you. Your heart, your body, screams at you, ask him, ask him, ask him. Eddie kisses your neck quickly, shakes his head like he’s emptying out a thought. “Fuck, I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had this dream.”

Again, ask him, ask him, ask him.

“Eddie,” you start, mind caught between the worry of how this will go and giving in to the gentle fuzziness of Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your waist. You swallow, look to his eyes, then his forehead. “Will you-” The words catch, leaving you with a warm face and eyes squeezed closed in embarrassment. 

Eddie hums, gifts your cheeks his lips. His nose brushes the side of your face, and he murmurs. “Anything you want, pretty. Let me hear it, mm? ”

It’s Eddie, you tell yourself. From the first time you spoke to him, he’s never judged you for anything. He won’t judge you now. It’s Eddie, you repeat in your head. My Eddie. 

“I’ve never, um-” Your toes curl at the clear nerves in your voice, the beating of your heart that you swear he must be able to hear. “Nobody’s ever- Mmh.” 

“It’s just me,” Eddie says, thumb at your cheek. “It’s only me, sweet girl. Wanna know what you’re thinking.”

“I think,” you sigh, let some of the nerves out with it. “I think you’re beautiful, Eddie.” He blinks, surprised, but gives you a sweet smile when you touch gently at his pink cheek, feel the beginning of bristle under your finger. “And I want you. I mean, I want you to be first.” And second, and third, and every time after.

You stare at each other, breath heavy in your chest. Eddie’s eyes shine until he blinks it away. “Come- come here,” Even though he says it, he’s the one to lean down to you, giving you a chaste kiss that turns desperate when you reach up to play with his curls. 

Your head swims, relief and anticipation swirling together. A quiet moan escapes you when Eddie’s mouth moves to your jaw, down your neck. “Do you, um, have, like, protection?”

Eddie freezes. His face comes into view, brows furrowed. “Wait. You want me to fuck you right now?”

Oh. You hear the rush of blood in your ears, a ringing noise. You pull your hands from his hair, fingers curling, hands tucked to your chest. You suddenly wish he wasn’t on top of you, wish you could hide your face from him. Your head starts working overtime, supplying all the things he’s no doubt thinking about you now. You think of Erin, writing on the bathroom wall. Slut. Desperate. Whore.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft. Eddie presses his pointer finger to your temple, gives it a playful rub. “Are you doing that thing you said you do? Lying there convincing yourself you’ve fucked something up?”

A little part of you resents that he nailed it down so quickly, but you nod, blinking away the first bubbling tears, staring at the collar of his Metallica shirt rather than his face. “I just thought you’d want to.”

Eddie makes a soft noise at the back of his throat. “C’mere.” He pushes himself up from the floor of the van, grabs your hand to pull you with him. You end up curled at his side, knees just resting on the side of his thigh, his arm tucked around your shoulder as he leans you both against the back of the seats. You pull your sleeves over your hands, fidgety even as Eddie is rubbing at your shoulder softly. 

“Course I want to,” he says, leaning into you. “I wanted you on that picnic table. I want you all the time.”

That soothes you a little, enough that your right hand peeks out from your sleeve to play with the hem of his shirt. But your sensitive heart still throbs, tentative and sore. “So, why…?”

“I- Shit. Give me a minute.” Eddie hugs you tight for a second, then shuffles across the floor of the van, practically launching himself out of the back doors with a practised ease that makes you smile despite yourself. You can’t see him from here, but you hear him outside, the passenger door opening and closing behind you. When he returns, he’s got that metal lunch box he carries around with him. A different kind of confusion blooms when he sits next to you and opens it, rummaging through the little plastic bags of illicit substances. He pulls out a wad of rolled bills, a little chunkier than when you’d bought weed from him in the woods that first day.

“Wanna know what this is for?” Eddie asks, looking unusually serious when you glance at him. He opens his mouth then closes it again, eyes fixing on where he is thumbing at the band holding the bills together. “I thought you might ask me, eventually. Hoped you would, at least.” He breathes a laugh, pings the elastic. “So I’ve been saving up, you know?”

“Saving up?”

Eddie nods, turns his wide gaze to you with a tilted head. “Wanted to take you somewhere nice. Buy you dinner, something other than a burger or a pizza slice. Get a room at a hotel, with a big comfy bed. Thought I could show you-” He twitches, eyes flickering away from your face and back again. He swallows, shrugs. “S’like I said. I wanna deserve you.”

Your tense shoulders slump. Your chest aches. “Eddie,” you whisper, shaking your head. Trying again to blink away tears, you grab the roll of dollars from him, throw it back into that dumb obvious lunchbox. You climb up into his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Your wet eyes meet his. “You don’t have to prove anything. You deserve-” Me, whatever you want, everything. Your fingers twitch. You close your eyes tight, ashamed you can’t look at him when you say it. “I think, all the time, about how much I wish I knew you earlier. It’s like, before, I just spent the whole time missing you.” You find it in you to look at him then, gaze at his pretty face; pink, lightly freckled, shiny under his eyes. “I want you, Eddie. I want to be with you wherever you are.”

You stare at each other, listening to the steady rhythm of your breaths until they move in sequence, chests expanding and contracting together. You get that same feeling you got when Eddie held your hand after touching you for the first time, how he listened when you told him about how you blow out of proportion in your head, the way he was angry for you when you recounted how Andy treated you. When Eddie told you that he couldn’t understand you liking him, that people have held him at arm's length for being too much, that he refuses to give up on school, believes wholeheartedly in his dreams. One moment at a time, you are peeling back layers, exposing soft tissue. You are offering each other all your hidden parts, whispering, please look after this with every squeezed hand and kissed cheek. 

Eddie sniffs, wipes his eyes. Seeing his shaky smile, hearing his wet laugh, is better than any soft bed in any hotel.

“That’s good, cause, uh, I really hadn’t saved that much.” You giggle together through lumped throats. “At the rate I was going, you were gonna be waiting till you were forty-five.” You shake your head at him fondly, reaching up to play with the feathers of hair that brush the side of his face. Eddie pulls you in closer, ducks his chin. “But I still can’t take your virginity in the back of my van, sweet thing,” he says. “It just wouldn’t be right. You should be in a bed, at least. And if you’re happy for it to be mine? I’ll just make sure my sheets are washed.”

You rub the soft ends of his hair between your fingers. “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” His hand comes to your cheek, helping you look at him. He must be able to feel the warmth of your face in his hand, but you lean into his palm anyway. When Eddie kisses you, it’s a gentle thing, a promise. 

When his tongue peeks out to lick into your mouth, it’s a request you’re happy to fulfil. Eddie groans at the taste of you, the sound of it registering across your whole body. Your hips roll subtly, and you feel the quirk of his lips. 

Eddie sighs into your mouth. “My pretty girl wants me to fuck her in my bed, mm?” 

The increasingly familiar zing of pleasurable shame zips up your spine. The air around you shifts, crackling like the split second of awareness before an electric shock. “Yeah, Eddie.” 

“But you need to be touched right now. So desperate,” he murmurs, the word that had mocked you minutes ago, now a warm tease. “So desperate you wanted to take my cock for the first time right here. In my van, parked by the side of the road.”

You shake your head, because you’re not really at the side of the road. Eddie was right when he said it’s quiet; nobody comes here. You’re about as likely to be found by the quarry as you are in his room. Eddie’s eyes light up with dark amusement, his hand drifting to the back of your neck. The pressure of his fingers there makes your hips twitch, your body recognising the signs, the promise of what’s to come when Eddie’s palm starts holding your head up. 

“No?” He asks, tilting his head, a teasing pout finding his pink lips. “You sayin’ I didn’t hear your right?”

Your toes curl. “No.”

The lines that run from the sides of Eddie’s nose to the corners of his lips deepen. “No, I did hear you right?”

“Eddie,”

“Ahh, yeah,” he breathes, wrapping an arm around your waist to help you lie back. He reaches out for his jacket, still rolled up on the floor, and places it back under your head. “That’s the good stuff.” You open your legs for him, let him settle his body on top of you, feeling the hardening length of him through denim and cotton at the apex of your thighs. Eddie licks his lips, tucks his hair back with a breathy laugh. “Shit. You got me thinking about it, now.”

Eddie sinks his face to your neck, the warm sting of his tongue making the mess between your legs increasingly hard to ignore. His big hand pulls at the hem of your skirt, lifting it up to your tummy. He glances down your body, eyes closing tight at the pale blue cotton cupping your mound, dark and sticky where it’s soaked up your wetness. “Wanna feel your little pussy on my cock so fucking bad. I can’t tell you how-” He cuts off a groan at the first run of his fingers over the wet material. “Christ. How many times I’ve thought about it.” 

You blink at him slowly, mind drifting into the calm of knowing Eddie’s going to make sure you both feel good. Your hips tilt naturally, helping him rub the curve of his finger over your clit through soaked cotton, then wiggling to help him more when his fingers hook into the elastic to pull them down your legs. Once they’re past your sneakers, he holds them in his hand for a second, rubbing his thumb along their centre. When you tilt your hips, pussy barely catching the rough denim over his crotch, his nostrils flare. “Don’t distract me, I’m holding precious cargo.”

He seems to settle on where to put them, draping the cotton over the top of one of the amps rather than letting them touch the floor. You giggle at his careful consideration, and Eddie’s dimples press into flushed cheeks. 

“You thought about it?” Eddie asks, watching your face when his thumb sweeps over your clit, noting the sensitivity before he starts up with tight circles that have you keening. “Thought about me inside you?”

He has to feel the new wetness between your legs that comes with your desperate nod. In truth, you’ve thought about it almost endlessly. You know it can hurt, have heard enough stories of virginity loss from the girls at the cheer table to know that it probably will. But when you imagine being close to Eddie that way, the only thing you can conjure up is the feeling of his fingers inside, how much further you’d have to stretch to take Eddie’s cock, the one that makes your jaw ache. Maybe the prospect should give you pause, but thinking about how Eddie would guide you through it sends excited shivers down your spine.

“Yes, Eddie.”

“You wanna feel my cock now?” He breathes, watching confusion flicker over your blissed face. “Know you like riding your pillow, sweet thing,” he says, your face hot at the memory of telling him how you masturbate. “But I think you might like rubbing up on me a little better.” 

Your clit twitches. You clench inside. Eddie either feels or sees the reaction of your body because he’s humming in excitement the next second, leaning down to kiss you, press his tongue to yours until you’re groaning into his mouth. He looks a little manic when he pulls away, hands scrambling with his belt when he throws himself to the side, lying on his back, ready for you to climb up on him. 

Without thinking, your hands catch his, stopping him from pulling at the loop. You squeeze his palms. “Let me?”

In answer, he moves his hands from his jeans, letting them rest flat across his stomach. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to sit on his thigh and grind against the denim just to get some instant relief. You reach out to the side of his head, grab his jacket and slide it to the back of his head. Eddie tilts his head up, lets you position it just so. You check, “comfy?” and he nods. 

Satisfied, you return to Eddie’s belt. The action of pulling at the leather is excitingly familiar to you now. The button of his jeans comes next, then his zip humming as you pull it down. His boxers are a soft check, the waistband positioned just under the first tufts of dark hair that lead to where Eddie is filling out the material. You think about his hands teasing your clit through your panties, mimicking him by brushing a knuckle over the mound peeking out from his zipper. It’s enough to make Eddie’s eyes squeeze shut, his fingers twitch. 

You hook your fingers into the elastic, start pulling them down. Eddie sighs in relief when his cock meets the air, hard enough to rise from his underwear the second he’s free. You imagine the stretch of him again, and clench down on emptiness. Eddie’s cock is a pretty pink all over. The furled skin at the top is a little shiny, and you know if you grasped his cock and pulled that skin back, his head would be wet with excitement. 

The thought strikes to just lean down and take him in your mouth, surprised to find that that’s already something of a comfort zone for you. But your clit throbs like it’s protesting, so you shuffle on your knees, feeling the sticky spread of your cunt when you open your legs to bracket his hips. You reach down, let yourself stroke Eddie’s cock just to hear the soft noise it draws out from his throat. You rub your thumb over that sensitive spot below his head, press his cock down until his length rests over the hair above it and the bottom of his soft tummy. 

With your free hand, you drift your hand between your legs, letting your fingers drift over your clit. You make a V with your fingers at the top, splitting your cunt open for him and feel a bone deep certainty that Eddie is the only person who could watch you doing this without real shame casting its shadow. 

“C’mon,” Eddie says, getting impatient. “Sit on it, use my cock how you want, just let me feel you.” 

Nodding, body instinctively wanting to follow his direction, you settle yourself on his cock. Eddie groans at the warm slick that surrounds him, hands immediately moving to your hips to help guide you. Your entrance flexes at the base of him, and he tries to pull you straight down like he could find more space between your lips for his girth. “Jesus Chri-”

Eddie’s words cut off with a choke when you glide yourself forward, hearing your wetness spread along his dick. You whine at the feeling, Eddie’s cock stimulating not just your twitchy button but your soft, clenching hole. Shifting back, your legs twitch when his head, exposed as the surrounding skin is pulled back by the clasp of your lips, catches just right against your clit. A few more blissful drags, and you are whining, hands flat against Eddie’s chest, fingers pulling at the softness of his shirt. 

You wiggle your hips, close to hysteria at how good it feels to have Eddie this close. Eddie grins up at you, the pride on his face making you all the more desperate. He looks overwhelmingly pretty like this, hair fanned out across his jacket, lips wet and swollen from his constant licking and your own kisses. His neck, as blushed as his face and his cock, is exposed and tense. His dark eyelashes that flutter every time his head drags over your clit and emerges from between your lips. His eyes, dark in the centre where his pupils have swallowed up mahogany, flicker back and forth between your face and where his cock vanishes and appears again, enveloped and released by the wet split of your pussy.

“You feel me now, mm?” He says, sounding hurried like he’s trying to get it out before his voice is swallowed up by groans. “Haven’t even taken three of my fingers, but you thought you could just lie back and take my cock?” You bounce a little when his head flicks your clit this time, torturing the swollen button with him a little longer. “Couldn’t’ve done it right, not how my desperate girl needs it. Just wanna make you feel good, you know?” 

“Feels good,” you murmur, wiggling your hips to feel his cock flex and shift over all the tender skin where you are most sensitive. “You always feel so good, Eddie.”

“Yeah? That’s it, that’s it.” Eddie’s fingers dig into your hips, no doubt leaving you with marks that will be satisfyingly tender by morning. “Fuck. Fuck, baby, I love you-r pretty voice.” He swallows, eyes now fixed on your pleasured face. “Love when you talk to me.” 

“Eddie, m’gonna-” You start to shake, and his hands grab at your hips, helping you keep moving along him even as the stimulation edges towards painful. 

“That’s it, cum on me. Let me feel it.”

Your body spasms, letting yourself move only with Eddie’s pushing and pulling as the throb of your clit spreads through your body, sends tingles up your spine. You feel your clit numb for a second, know enough now about your own body what that means for the intensity of your orgasm. You sit on that precipice, gasping in air. 

Pleasure bursts, has you shaking and moaning and, unbeknownst to you, repeating, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” while the boy beneath you chases his own high, wanting to finish before you’re too oversensitive to keep your perfect warm pussy on him. 

Bending his knees, he grinds up into you, helping you slide along him. When he pulls your hips just so, and the tip of him barely catches the soft entrance of your cunt, Eddie finally cries out beneath you. The almost violent twitch of his cock between your legs makes you squirm, picturing that happening inside you. Eddie’s cum, thick and white, lands across his stomach in droplets, the last rope clinging to the tip of his cock in a way that, shamefully, makes your mouth water.

Sensitive, twitching, you rise from his body. Your shaking thighs fail you almost immediately, and you fall back on your butt between his open legs, a hand coming to cover your stimulated pussy like it needs protection. Eddie sits up, wipes his own hand across his stomach and draws his cum into his mouth with an ease that might surprise you if you hadn’t seen Eddie casually taste his own cum just about every time he’s orgasmed in front of you. 

This is what you meant, when you told May that being with Eddie is fun. Sex has always been something with disclaimers attached. Something to be enjoyed, but not too much. Something to get lost in, but not enough that you cross the line into acting slutty. It seemed to you like a tightrope nobody had shown you how to walk. 

And then there’s Eddie, who just watched you cum so hard on top of him that you immediately fell on your ass, and he’s grinning at you like he’s never been so proud of anyone in his life. “Now tell me that wasn’t way better than your pillow.” He reaches out for you, and you let him pull you into his arms, rest your head against his chest. You watch, warm in your face, while he tucks his softening cock, still covered in you, back into his boxers. “You feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, tracing the blue lines of lightning on his shirt with your finger. Your thighs twitch again, and you laugh together, soft and breathless. You settle into that post high afterglow, letting yourself be comforted by how surrounded by Eddie you are. His arm around you, his chest under your head. You can hear the way his heartbeat shifts from an intense rhythm to a steady beat under your ear. There’s another sudden uptick just before he speaks.

“I was missing you, too.”

You shift, look up at him from his chest, find him staring at the ceiling. 

“Sometimes my life has felt like being dealt one bad hand after another.” His gaze shifts then, eyes finding yours. “Now, I think, maybe I was saving up for something really good without realising.” 

Eddie Munson; town freak, rumoured Satanist, bad news for sweet girls like you, on the floor of his van, arms wrapped tight around you, says; “You’re a lifetime of good luck, sweetheart.”

And then you know. 

Next Part

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #tmyg

[nptnewr]

The Dog Days are Over

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader Soulmate AU

Chapter 3

a/n: special thanks to @hioreh​ for helping me figure out what to do for this chapter I hope it makes sense 😭 also i was laughing so hard that the acronym in this story ending up being ATE like I am so real for that

Reminder: I do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted here or on any other site, even if you give me credit. Reblogs, comments, and asks are encouraged! do not follow me unless you are 18+, all ageless or blank blogs will be blocked!

Pronouns Used: They/Them

Summary: It’s a short time off for task force 141 when Ghost bumps into you at your bookshop. It sends a spark through both of you, but Ghost quickly shrugs it off and leaves. However, when he gets back to base, ready to sleep before a new mission he feels a body next to him in bed. He immediately grabs a knife only to find out it’s you with wide eyes and a trembling body.

Word Count: 1.8k

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Typical COD MW2 Dialogue & Violence | Slow Burn | If I have missed any let me know!  

Starting the truck back up, Simon makes his way back to base. He feels a small bead of sweat begins to drip from his brow as he picks up his phone and looks through the contacts. Simon only knows one person whose soulmate is a civilian, and the thought of calling them right now makes him want to puke.

Pulling up Laswell’s contact, Simon takes a deep breath before hitting call. It rings four times before the call is picked up.

“Lieutenant? What are you calling me at six in the morning for? You should be getting suited up right now. The team leaves in twenty.” Simon holds his breath for a few moments before he answers.

“Laswell, with all due respect, I won’t be makin’ it on the mission. There’s been an…incident and I need to speak with you urgently.” Simon grits his teeth as he admits he won’t make the mission. It’s the first time he’s ever said that. 

There is a pause from Laswell’s line before she speaks. “Alright, come to my office as soon as you can.” 

Before Simon can respond the line goes dead and he throws the phone into the passenger seat of his truck. The rest of the drive up to base is silent, only the soft humming coming from the truck reminding Simon he’s still moving. Simon parks the car, slamming the door as he hops down from the driver’s seat. 

Simon walks down the hallways he’s memorized, the ones he’s used for years now. He makes his way straight toward Lazwell’s office. The 141 have been out of the base for almost ten minutes now and Simon feels nothing but anger towards himself for not being there with his team. 

Simon can’t understand why he can’t blame you for what’s happened. He should’ve screamed at you, cursed you for being a weak civilian that’s making him miss a mission. But, Simon can’t blame you, not when he thinks about how innocent you looked when you found the perfect book for him. He’s not even upset that he had to drive you through town to take you home. If anything, it made him feel like he got to spend more time with you.

Simon steps up to Laswell’s office, knocking twice before stepping back to wait for her answer. 

“​​Lieutenant, come in!” Laswell’s voice echoes outside of her office. 

Opening up the door, Simon walks into her office, a rather large space that could be used as a debriefing room if need be. He takes a seat in one of the office chairs closest to Laswell’s desk as he waits for her to speak. Laswell is sitting behind her desk, she moves her hands to clasp in front of her on the desk. 

“I need a hell of a good explanation to tell the higher-ups when they as why one of their best men isn’t out there with his team. Not to mention the fact that the team thinks you’ve gone insane for missing a mission.” Laswell leans closer to Simon, almost trying to read him through his mask. 

“Laswell, I didn’t want to bring the attention of the team to this issue. When I was at the shops around town yesterday, I bumped into a soulmate.” Simon takes a deep breath. “My soulmate. I bumped into my soulmate, who ended up jumping into my quarters last night. I didn’t go on my mission because if they end up in the middle of a battlefield…”

Laswell tries to keep her composure, but her mouth drops open slightly in shock. She thought out of all the 141 men Johnny would be the first to deal with this, maybe even Price at his age, but never Ghost.

“Simon,” Laswell has never spoken to him using his true name. “This is something important that we have to deal with. I know why you came to me, and I’m glad you did. There is not a day where I don’t worry my wife will end up in the middle of a fight or kidnapped if she jumped at me. I understand how terrifying that can be. But, I have good news.” 

Laswell smiles as she pulls what looks to be an earplug from her ear. It’s a solid black device that Simon never noticed was in her ear before. She places the device in Simon’s hand, allowing him to look at the device closely.

“These are called anti-transitional earpieces, or ATEs for short. When you place them in your ear they calm your emotions when they are getting out of hand, allowing you a second to collect yourself before continuing a mission.” Laswell smiles as she watches Simon become less tense at her solution. “The reason why a soulmate jumps is that their other half emotionally needs them. It causes you to yearn to protect and nurture your soulmate without you even knowing it. Once the touch is initiated, your souls are intertwined whether you like it or not.” 

“They said the same thing, that our souls are intertwined. Sounds like some bollocks fairy tale story.” Simon huffs as Laswell chuckles.

“It may sound like that, but it’s something that has been around forever. You need to keep that in mind now that you have a soulmate. If you stay away from them for too long, ATE or not, it will hurt both of you.” Laswell’s face drops.

Simon nods, he knows that Laswell has most likely experienced that firsthand.

“I’ll have your earpiece done by the time the boys get back. I can speak to the captain about your absence, but I can’t vouch for you when it comes to Gaz and Soap. Good luck with that, ​​Lieutenant.” Laswell winks at Simon playfully before he stands up from his chair, walking out of the room.

Simon closes the door to Laswell’s office and begins to walk back outside of the base. He needed a walk or a cigarette, maybe both would be the perfect option. The thought of Price knowing that he had a soulmate was annoying enough, but now he is going to have to find out what to say to Johnny. There were a lot of times when Simon knew exactly what to do, but this was not one of those times. 

Taking long strides towards the door of the base with his head in the clouds, Simon barely notices that he’s no longer walking on concrete. He misses he’s in a different place entirely until he feels a pressure on his chest and a gasp. Looking down, he notices you were staring at him with wide eyes. Your hands were pressed against his chest and he looks around to see he’s in a small flat.

“Okay, we have to stop doing this it hasn’t even been a fucking day.” You laugh looking at Simon who looks incredibly small inside of your flat.

“Sorry,” Simon grumbles, not daring to move any farther into your home.

“It’s okay, I guess we’ve got to get used to it.” You point in the direction of your kitchen. “Would you like some tea while you’re here, Simon?”

Simon freezes for a second when he hears you say his name. The way you say it has his chest hurting, it makes him feel like he’s losing his mind. After a moment he nods his head at your question.

“Earl gray if you have it.” You nod and head towards the kitchen.

“Feel free to sit down on the couch, I’ll be over in a moment.” You walk up towards the kettle, pouring water into it.

“So, how was the rest of your morning,” You try to start a conversation with Simon, hoping to learn something about your soulmate.

“Fine, spoke to my higher-ups, they are giving me a device to keep us from jumping.” Simon watches as you waltz around the kitchen, grabbing tea bags and sugar cubes from the cabinet. 

“I had no idea that was capable. I guess I don’t know a lot about what the military is capable of though.” You frown slightly at the thought of secrecy between you and your soulmate. 

“You have no idea,” Simon grumbles.

You take the tea off of the stove and make two cups placing sugar in yours. Grabbing the two cups, you make your way toward Simon and sit down beside him on the couch. 

“Do you have to go back anytime soon?” You ask, turning towards him. 

“Not today, the guys will be on the mission all day leaving me without a team to train with for the day.” Simon lifts his mask slightly and takes a sip of his tea. You are mesmerized by the bit of skin and beautiful pink lips that appear, but they disappear all too soon for your liking. 

“Can you tell me anything about what you do? I know you’re in the military, but what branch?” You inquire.

“It’s classified, for your safety I’d rather you never know.” Simon hopes the questions stop there, but you aren’t satisfied.

“Okay, well then what about the mask? Can I see your face since I’m your soulmate? Do you have a bad scar or-”

“No. You can’t see my face, if you did I would have to kill you.” You tense up at his statement, but when you look at him you can tell he’s smiling beneath his mask.

“That is so not funny, Simon! What is the real reason?” You can’t help, but smile as you scold him.

“The world isn’t ready for this handsome face yet.” Simon batts his eyelashes at you, causing you to burst out into a fit of giggles.

“You’re an idiot.” You shake your head and place your teacup on the coffee table.

“I’m serious ‘bout the mask though, no one has seen my face except a few people. It’s going to take a lot of time before I feel comfortable enough.” You nod your head, understanding that he just doesn’t know you enough.

You and Simon continue to speak about whatever you can think of, which ends up being mostly your life story. Simon decided to stay quiet about most of his past, making your heart hurt because you wanted to know more about him. Once the sun begins to set Simon sits up from the couch only to stare at you.

“Uh, I didn’t exactly drive here, think you can give me a ride?” Simon places his hands in his pockets.

“I didn’t even think about that! The only issue is that I don’t have a car.” You frown slightly.

Simon sighs knowing there’s one person that would pick him up. However, he isn’t sure how to ask his teammate who he left without explanation this morning to pick him up from your flat. He holds up a hand to you as he grabs his phone out of his pocket.

“I’ve got it. You remember Johnny, right?”

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