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lady-phasma · 2 years

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Zaldrītsos

(Little Dragon)

Part 4 of ?

On AO3 as “Dragonstone: Summoned”

Warning: 18+, NSFW

Summary: In which Viserys decides which horse to bet on? Sheesh. How far from canon can we take this field trip? Okay so technically no smut in this chapter but I'm keeping the 18+ because of all the others. And just be patient, some really fun smut is coming up, I promise!

The fire had burned down during the night. The room was cold and damp. Rhaenyra snuggled closer to him under the quilts and furs. She didn’t want the servants to disturb them and squinting at the window she saw dawn approaching. They would be knocking soon. She screwed up her face in annoyance. She was awake now and would most likely stay awake. Her arm lay across Daemon’s stomach and she didn’t want to wake him. He was sleeping deeply, on his back, his lovely face turned away from her. As she started to rise, very slowly, she indulged her urge to lean in and kiss the hollow of his neck. Her lips barely touched his skin and she inhaled deeply. That was something she would never get enough of, the way he smelled. She had begun to understand how smell could trigger memories and there were so many with him.

He moved in his sleep but she hadn’t woken him. She gingerly got out of the bed and slipped on a robe that had been flung over a chair. She stood in front of the window and stretched. Her eyes unconsciously searched the horizon for Syrax. She tried to stifle a noisy yawn. She shivered and hugged her arms around herself.

The wait was excruciating. It had been almost a week and no raven had returned. After the second day she woke every morning expecting a raven and went to bed every night disappointed. She had plenty of distraction so the disappointment was brief, she glanced over her shoulder at the bed, but the disappointment always came. Daemon still hadn’t stirred. She didn’t want to stoke the fire or open the door to call for a servant. She wanted to be alone for a moment and if he was asleep she could be maudlin without feeling like she was letting him down. Kings were complicated, princes perhaps even more so.

The sun’s first light was hazy through the clouds and turned the caps of the waves a subtle violet. Almost the color of their eyes. She heard a dragon but didn’t see one. They were just waking up. Syrax may have felt her anxiety even from this distance, she could never be sure how much Syrax knew. The clouds raced across the sky and the sun made a brief appearance. Rhaenyra turned from the window and tiptoed to the fireplace. She balanced on the hearth, the residual heat warmed her bare feet. She turned and faced the waning fire to warm her hands.

* * *

He heard the patter of feet on stone in his sleep. Daemon opened his eyes a fraction and saw her, back to him, standing on the hearth. Memories crept into his drowsy mind, memories of her curling up with him on cold winter evenings begging him to tell her stories of the first dragons, of her tucking her bare toes under his leg to stay warm. He put his hands behind his head and enjoyed the images as they came. Her brave steps to ride Syrax for the first time, trying to not let anyone see how afraid she really was. Her small fists, white-knuckled, on the saddle horn.

He felt the chill of the room on his bare arms. He needed to get someone to build a fire. He threw the blankets off and hissed when his feet touched the flagstone.

“Good morning,” she didn’t turn to look at him when she spoke. “Shall I fetch someone to start the fire? I would have already but didn’t want to wake you.”

He didn’t reply. He walked to the door, opened it, shouted some instructions at whichever attendant was outside the door, and left the door ajar. Before he grabbed his breeches he walked over to her. She turned to face him, almost as tall as him while standing on the hearth. He wrapped his arms around her. He was hard against her leg. And she blushed. It took him a sleepy moment to work out why she should blush and then heard the footsteps behind him. He lifted her off the hearth and kissed her. Not even the least embarrassed by his nakedness but adoring her embarrassment.

He let her down easily and reached for the clothing on the chair. He heard chains rattling in the hallway. This early? He sighed. The maester bowed slightly in the doorway, greeted them and waited.

“Yes?” Daemon summoned him in gruffly and Rhaenyra shot a stern glance at him. He returned her glance and smiled at her. She was lucky he even put his breeches on. She hid her smile under an air of imperiousness and tightened her robe.

* * *

Thank the gods he had put on some clothing. It was far too early for his games. She straightened her robe and greeted the maester. Her heart raced. She tried not to snatch the scroll out of Maester Gerardys’s hand. It may not be for her. No one knew she was here except her father. And anyone who may have read her letter but that wouldn’t be many. She clutched her hands behind her back.

“Your Highness,” the maester began. “a raven arrived from your brother.”

Rhaenyra watched as his hand moved past her and offered the parchment to Daemon. He looked almost as surprised as she felt. She bit the inside of her cheek and turned away from the maester. She walked to the fire. It was beginning to catch and she hoped the warmth would stop her shaking.

She couldn’t look at them. She heard Daemon yell at the maester to leave. She thanked him as he left, trying to make up for her uncle’s outburst. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know what the scroll contained. She heard Daemon behind her.

“That

* * *

dried up old cunt!” he threw the parchment on the bed. He wanted to throw it in the fire. He couldn’t look at her. Not yet.

Instead he swiped his hand across the side table and the empty wine pitcher and cups clattered on the floor. The shattering of the pitcher didn’t lessen his anger and he saw her flinch. She wasn’t looking at him either. He snatched up a tunic and his boots and walked out. He left her. He hesitated outside the chamber door but didn’t stop. The words of this cunt-of-a-brother’s letter reverberated in his thoughts.

* * *

Brother,

I hope this finds you well. As I am sure that it will. I am relying on you and your sense of duty to put an end to Rhaenyra’s childish folly. I cannot entertain the rumors that spread through the court and are reported to me by my Small Council. They advise me that you are complicit and that you have already sullied her reputation. You are impetuous, brother, but surely you haven’t lost all reason.

She is enamored of you. She is still a child, such adoration will fade. A child of eight and ten years and not yet wise in the ways of the world, as we old men are. You know how this will end if you entertain her. Bring her back to King’s Landing, break her heart, leave her, whatever needs be done to send her home. If she is to rule she cannot do so with such vain distractions.

I expect a raven or her arrival within the week. If you don’t resolve this, the only remaining recourse I have will be to send my Hand to retrieve her. She is still under the protection of her guard even if they are not currently at Dragonstone. They can deliver her.

Viserys, First of His Name, King of the Andals….

She let the scroll fall from her hand. Caraxes had been bellowing in the distance and the sound now brought her back to her surroundings. She was in Dragonstone. She was cold, angry, and, somehow, alone. She was alone with these cruel words.

Rhaenyra couldn’t tell if these were solely her father’s words or if they were influenced by that serpent Hightower. It was so manipulative to send his ‘reply’ to Daemon and not her, she felt it had to be his Hand who suggested that tactic. Otto would know how Daemon would react, how he would be angered and reckless as would her father.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of the shock. Without calling a maid to help she dressed herself in comfortable clothing, appropriate for riding. That might give her time to think, to react, and not be frozen with… with disgust? disappointment? She wasn’t sure yet. As she laced up her boots she felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, a rolling, awful feeling. Her mind drifted back to her aloneness.

Consciously slowing her pace, she left their chambers and the castle. She was immediately buffeted by the cool morning air. Dragon cries in the distance were difficult to discern. She couldn’t tell if Syrax’s voice was the one she heard or Caraxes’s. She walked toward the cliffs and scanned the horizon. The sun cast shadows from the clouds across the beaches and the cliff faces running north along the coast. She thought she saw a glint of gold just up the beach. By the time she reached the hill above Syrax, she had abandoned her perch and circled above Rhaenyra.

The dragon nuzzled her outstretched hand after she had landed. Syrax’s hot skin felt wonderful in the chill. Glad to not have a saddle between them she climbed onto the dragon’s back. She quickly tied her hair back with a leather cord and braced herself for the oncoming wind. “Sovēs.” She laid down on Syrax’s back and watched the land rush away. She gave no further direction. She didn’t care where they went. She relinquished all control. After their ascent, the gliding was soothing. Syrax banked and turned, circled and made shallow, graceful dives.

Rhaenyra looked back, Dragonstone appeared so small in the distance. They hadn’t gone far but the castle wasn’t imposing from above. Its intimidation was successful looming above those walking up from the shore. She faced ahead and saw, with no surprise at all, a red wyrm on the ground not far away. She didn’t encourage Syrax to land, she let the dragon decide. Syrax dove and squawked, that frustrating noise had no other description. It almost embarrassed Rhaenyra when the dragon made this feminine, high pitched sound. She repeated the sound and then, surprisingly, blew out a few feet of flame. That was curious but she had no time to dwell on it before they hit the ground. Dust and loose grass flew in Syrax’s wake but neither Caraxes nor Daemon seemed to notice. Caraxes’s great body lay curled almost to touch nose to tail. He sniffed and snorted as Rhaenyra approached but didn’t open his eyes.

* * *

A part of him didn’t want to see her. He wanted to be left alone to seethe. That part knew that she could calm him and, like a petulant child determined to have his way, he wanted, enjoyed, being broody and indignant.

Daemon looked up at her. He was reclining against Caraxes’s side, legs crossed at the ankles, and his body rose and fell as the dragon breathed. He didn’t stand to greet his princess. He dropped his eyes back down to his fidgeting hands.

“Caraxes,” she directed a nod at the dragon. “Daemon.” As she closed the distance between them there was a rise in temperature inside the circle of the dragon’s body. He blocked some of the wind, gave off natural heat, and seemed to be radiating heated anger in spite of his dozing. He snorted again.

Daemon didn’t meet her eyes until she was only a few paces away. She had never shied away from his anger because it had never been truly aimed at her. Yes, he had misdirected it a time or two but she was patient with him. She knew him better than anyone. He held her gaze, no expression on his face. He crossed his arms. He didn’t think there was anything she could say in this situation that could dissuade him from his anger because she was surely angry as well. But she could attempt to make him ‘see reason’ as so many people tried to do in his life.

She completely surprised him.

“Ao geptot!” her voice trembled in spite of herself. You left! He couldn’t look at her. He looked away to stare, unseeing, at the horizon. He felt her walk up to him. “Ūndegon nyke!” Look at me!

He did. Only because Syrax bellowed in punctuation of her rider’s words. Daemon didn’t meet her eyes but watched her fists clench. He didn’t want to look at her. He feared very few things in the world. Hurting her sat at the top of that list. He saw the angry tears on her cheeks and looked down again. She wasn’t crying, not really, but the anger had nowhere to go. She couldn’t rage at her father and she was rightfully angry at himself, he knew that.

He had stormed out in self-defense, avoiding the situation, the same reaction he resorted to most of his life. He hadn’t known where he was going but didn’t want to be there when she read the scroll. He couldn’t protect her from the pain and anger it would cause. He couldn’t undo it once it had been done.

In the few moments since her outburst she had stepped closer to him. Still not close but close enough now that he had nowhere else to look. Unadulterated rage came off her in waves. Her tears were drying. Her lower lip trembled slightly.

* * *

Did he feel nothing? She wanted to shove him. Watch him get caught off balance, shocking him out of his cocky pose and false demeanor. She also needed him. That frustrated her as much as it hurt. She was selfish, knew he hurt too, but she had been slighted, she had been the true target.

“You left and…” her voice was too quiet, she cleared her throat. “You act as if his words change anything, as if he would convince you to do something I know you would not. You are not who he thinks you are. He thinks so little of both of us if his words are his own.” Daemon’s eyes flicked up to hers.

“I am angry with you but I am more angered by him,” she continued. “I am surprised by both of you. You are surely brothers. I don’t know which path to choose from those ahead of us but I only see those paths we are both on.”

“Those paths are blocked,” his voice was quiet but firm.

“What?” she feigned that she could not hear him and stepped closer. Her feet were almost touching his boots. He still would not open to her.

“Those paths…” he held her gaze now but with his head low, eyes burning below the ridge of his brow. “Are blocked. I am not conceding, bending to his will, but I see no other paths. Enlighten me, my queen, what do you see that I cannot?” He spat these words at her and they had their intended effect. She took a step back as if struck.

Caraxes’s head rose from the ground and he snorted hot air behind her. She fought back tears and wanted to flee but she felt trapped. Caraxes wouldn’t stop her if she left but her uncle’s words would go with her. The weakness, the similarity to her uncle’s running away, disgusted her. She planted her feet.

“Seven hells!,” she shouted, louder than she intended. “I don’t know, dārilaros.”Prince. She hurled the title at him as he had done to her.

“I see,” she gestured to the space around them. “I see this, I see Dragonstone and peace. I see many things that are far away from and unencumbered by that damned Iron Throne. Above all that I see you. You loom so large you blot out the sun. You are rightfully the heir and want it. Were I able to give it to you…”

He didn’t look away. Maybe what she said was true. She hadn’t decided before she spoke.

“If you sat on the throne,” she continued. “All paths would be open to us. A king can choose his wife. A queen may not even choose her reign much less her consort. Can’t you at least see that I am lost, lost without you Daemon?” The last of her words came out almost pleading. She swallowed, choking back the tears that threatened.

* * *

Perhaps he should have been injured by her jab. All he could think was how wonderful a queen she would have made, still could. He stood up but didn’t go to her. He rested a hand on Caraxes. The dragon opened an eye and looked at them. Daemon looked from Caraxes to Syrax then finally to Rhaenyra. Everything she said was true.

He walked the few steps to her. His fingers grazed the outside of her clenched fist. His eyes moved over her face. She flinched when he leaned down and kissed her cheek. His chest tightened and he felt an unfamiliar lump in his throat. His fingers snaked into her hand and she let them. He kissed the dried tears from her other cheek. He slid his cheek against hers, his lips against her ear, her hair smelled like salt and her. He felt her exhale.

“Iksā ñuha dāria,” he whispered. You are my queen. He risked placing his hand on her back. “I never want to hurt you. I don’t know how to protect you. Forgive me?” He felt her hand come to rest on his chest, still in that tiny, fierce fist. Her other hand tightened on his.

“I have never done anything my brother has asked of me, why would I do so now?” he kept his voice low and pulled her to him. He was too proud to look at her. Seeing her angry tears, feeling her flinch at his touch, hurt him worse than her words. Pride wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t look at her yet. When she had pulled away from him, his eyes had stung, and as he spoke and held her he had closed his eyes because tears threatened. He hadn’t felt that sensation in years. So now he could add to his list, not just fear of hurting her but fear that she could, would choose to, hurt him.

Daemon took his hand from hers and smoothed it over the back of her head and rested it between her shoulder blades. Now both of her fists rested on his chest between them. He didn’t sooth her or squeeze her to him. If she would forgive him for how he had behaved he wanted to stoke the remaining rage. He didn’t want to extinguish the fire that could rise in her.

“Shall we go inside, zaldrītsos?” he murmured into her hair. “You’re cold and I’m not warm myself. You will have to keep me warm instead of Caraxes, he won’t fit through the castle doors.”

He thought he heard her chuckle and felt her shoulders move as if stifling a laugh. He didn’t know how they would respond to the King’s command but that could wait. He needed to resolve what was between them now. He slowly loosened his embrace.

* * *

She felt Daemon’s arms relax around her. His lips grazed her forehead. She pressed her hands flat on his chest. She wasn’t sure if she could feel his heartbeat, perhaps it was his, or it was her own still thumping from the anger that ran through her. She would forgive him, soon. She needed time. She needed to think about her father’s words and what action she, they, should take. A new course of rage began at the thought that she had not chosen to be heir. She bit that back. It was irrelevant.

“Perhaps breakfast,” Rhaenyra said. “I need to think. We have a lot to discuss but I need to think.” She stepped out of his arms and ran her fingers along the inside of his palm.

“Come back with me,” she turned and let her hand linger momentarily on his. Caraxes didn’t even open one eye to look at her as she passed.

“Glady, niece,” Daemon replied.

They were astride their dragons simultaneously. She glanced at him. He was magnificent on the back of Blood Wyrm. Syrax must have felt something similar. As Caraxes raised himself up on his knuckles, she growled. The giant looked at her with one, seemingly dismissive, eye then bellowed. He was as boastful as his rider. Rhaenyra spoke “sovēs” first and they were in the air before she heard the beating of Caraxes’s wings. He overtook them in a few wing strokes. In their fashion and possibly not at the direction of his rider, Caraxes breathed a plume of fire that engulfed both dragon and rider before they disappeared in a low cloud.

Rhaenyra rubbed Syrax’s neck and thought, to herself and to Syrax, ‘they both think they are the best the gods could have made.’ Tuned into this emotion Syrax darted into the cloud. Her smaller form made her perfect for sprinting. If she grew larger at Dragonstone distance and stamina would become easier. For now, she easily overtook the other dragon. Rhaenyra’s stomach flipped as Syrax banked, showing off for Caraxes, and dove. She leveled out just under the cloud cover. Dragonstone grew in their vision. A shadow passed over them and lingered. Rhaenyra dared not look up, without a saddle she didn’t want to risk losing her grip. She didn’t need to look up to know. She glanced at the ground running fast beneath them and saw the shape of Caraxes dip and shudder over the terrain.

She guided Syrax to bank and glide in next to the castle. Syrax took a couple dainty steps and stopped just before the flagstone. There wasn’t room enough for Caraxes to land here. Rhaenyra smirked. She jumped down and patted the dragon’s side. Caraxes huffed and circled a short distance away. When they landed his rider dismounted and began walking toward the castle. Caraxes flew off toward the cliffs.

Chapter 5

#High Valyrian is a love language #zaldrītsos #house of the dragon #hotd #daemon targaryen #daemyra #daemon x rhaenyra #rhaenyra targaryen #hotd fic #daemon fic #caraxes #syrax

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rosequartzwriting · 2 years

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A Beautiful Sight

Pairing: Hunter X Reader (gn/no specific pronouns) (no y/n)

Description: Life Day is approaching the galaxy and the planet The Batch have found themselves on takes it very seriously. You decide to bring Omega to the local holiday market and Hunter tags along. Seeing you and Omega makes him realize how he feels about you.

Warnings: Mentions of food, light sensory irritations from Hunter

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: To all those who celebrate as well, happy (now late) Winter Solstice and happy Yule too! And OH MY GODS I LOVE WRITING OMEGA AND HUNTER I CANT- Also title is lyric from Winter Wonderland, me and the song connections this year

Part of my DEC 2021 HOLIDAY MASTERLIST

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

The pitter patter of little footsteps did not need heightened senses to hear that were coming towards the cockpit. The quick clunk of small boots with an excited jump in each step. Hunter looked up from where he was polishing his vibroblade, and sure enough there was Omega. The winter coat she was wearing seemed to engulf her, fuzzy mittens covered her little hands, and her fur-lined boots were untied. She defiantly would not go cold. But he wondered how she did not trip with those laces undone and all over the place.

“Hunter! Are you coming with us?”

Her everlasting smile was present, and it reflected on his own face. Seeing her excitement for things never got old. Everything new that she laid her eyes on, or the mere sound of something new, lit this spark in her. It was his favourite thing about her.

He hated saying no to that face. But he felt like staying on the Marauder tonight.

“My plans were to stay here while you all went out to the market.”

“Awww come on! Why not? It’s gonna be fun!” she pressed, practically bouncing on the spot, “There’s gonna be so many things there!”

“Well then there’s going to be plenty for you to explore.”

A pout took over her face. “Please?”

He really really hated saying no to her.

Thankfully you came into the cockpit, breaking Omega’s disappointed look. You were adjusting your own winter coat and holding a knitted hat that was identical to the one on your head. The little girl turned to you so you could put the hat on her, it was a little big for her but it was better than nothing.

“Don’t forget this, I don’t want your ears freezing off.”

“It’s cozy!” She beamed up at you.

It fell down onto her eyes. You fixed it for her before lowering to her height to help her with her boots.

“Hunter says he’s not coming!” Omega said with a little sass, something she gets from either you or Tech.

Your eyes darted up to the clone instantly, “Aw, really?”

“Please come with us! We’re going to see the Life Day market!” Omega was begging at this point now.

“Everyone else is already in town, we’re going to meet them there. You should come.”

He had his hesitations. Sometimes Life Day celebrations consisted of a lot of noise and a lot of strong smells. He remembers this one time where The Batch had been stationed on a planet around this time, back during the clone wars, where this one specific spice smell from some dish the locals had made stuck in his senses for days. It was sharp and strong, turning sour in his mind. Due to that, he had always been careful every cycle.

“Not really my thing.” He shrugged.

You gave him a look that was so soft, your eyebrows drawing together and the hint of a frown on your lips. “Hunter, it’s Life Day. A time for family. We want you there. We need our leader.”

It was like you understood. And it made his heart skip a beat for a second.

“And there’s snow! Hunter, there’s snow! I want to play in the snow!”

Hunter thought about it for a second. He looked between the two of you. The spark of hope in Omega’s eyes. The soft look on your face. The winter clothes you two were wearing, out of the setting he was used to seeing you both in. Out of the battlefield and chaos for once, an image of peace.

He really could not say no.

“Alright.”

“Yay!” Omega cheered, and jumped to grab Hunter’s hand, “hurry and put on your gear! I wanna play outside!”

“Okay okay, I’ll meet you both outside. Don’t have too much fun without me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Serg.” You giggled, giving him a gentle smile.

~~~

Hunter had put on his gear for cold weather and came out of the ship to see an adorable sight. You and Omega were laughing and chasing each other around to pelt each other with snowballs. It warmed his heart. But he was sure that you both would get cold quickly if you kept it up. After he broke up the little fight, the three of you were off towards the town.

Omega was skipping along, kicking around the snow as she went, and basically leading the way with her excitement. She was way ahead of you and Hunter. The two of you walked side by side comfortably, watching Omega play in the soft powder.

“You’ll be fine, Hunter.”

Your words made him look at you. He saw the warmth on your face from the kiss of the cold, spreading from your cheeks to your nose. Your smile had never left your face. It made him forget some of his worries.

“I’ll be right here if you need anything.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s going to be fun, you’re gonna love it.”

“Probably not as much as her,” Hunter gestured towards the little girl in the snow.

“Oh, no one is going to love it more than Omega.” You laughed.

“There it is!” Omega shouted back to you both, running back to grab your hands and pull you along. “Come on come on come on! It’s so pretty!”

The town was decorated in colorful lights and decorations that were too beautiful, all topped with snow on the buildings and blanketed everywhere else. Red and green and gold and white everywhere, shapes of tress and flowers and snowflakes and stars. There were stands selling food and treats and things for presents. Locals and visitors dressed for the weather and with their families. And it was beginning to snow again, large fluffy flakes falling and looking like hyperspace.

Hunter had to admit that it was very pretty.

“Tech said they take the holiday very seriously here.” You mentioned.

“He wasn't kidding.” Hunter remarked.

Omega was already running off somewhere and you went to chase her. But you saw the hesitation is Hunter’s steps. You turned to him and took his hand in yours. Your gloved hand was warm in this cold, physically and emotionally for him.

“Come on, we’re gonna lose her.”

As you pulled him along, he grew more comfortable. Just the feeling of holding your hand grounded him. He fell into step with you.

Omega had found a stand that was selling something warm in a cup, its steam coming up and dancing into the cold air. She wanted one and so did you. It smelled too good, like a rich and deep chocolate that reminded you of the holiday. You paid for three cups. The vendor handed them out to you from a big pot over a fire, sprinkling in little puffs of white as well.

Omega felt it warm her chilled fingers through her mittens.

“Do not burn yourself,” you warned, “it’s not fun.”

“I’m careful.” Omega blew on her drink before taking a sip.

Hunter looked down into his cup and watched the chocolate and white pieces swirl around. He gave it a sniff. No strong or sour spice. So he tried some. And he loved it. The warmth of it went down and mixed with the other warm feeling that was building inside of him, one of contentment.

“It’s delicious!” Omega said.

“It sure is.” Hunter replied.

You had basically lead Hunter and Omega through the market, showing them things through the stands and telling stories about your past holidays. Omega listened with joy and eagerness, asking questions all the time and wanting to see everything that there was. Hunter watched you guide her, letting her learn and explore.

One moment stuck out in his mind, and he thought that he would remember it forever. You had bought Omega a scarf from one of the clothing vendors. Kneeling down to her height, you had wrapped it around her. She told you thank you, for the scarf and taking her to the market, and leaped into your arms for the biggest hug. It lasted, it was full of love. Hunter’s heart exploded.

It was at that moment he realized, seeing you love and care for his little sister, that he had feelings for you. Ones that he never noticed before, or let himself bury deep down. But in a beautiful sight and setting like this, he let himself feel it.

He was so glad that he came along.

#sergeant hunter x reader #bad batch hunter #the bad batch #hunter x reader #bad batch hunter x reader #bad batch omega #swwriting #star wars #star wars the bad batch #hunter tbb #clone force 99 #tbb hunter x reader #tbb #tbb omega #life day

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koushou · 3 years

Note

hey can i request a oneshot or hc for megumi, thank you 😩❤️

insufferable

pairing : megumi fushiguro x f!reader {small angst + fluff}

warnings : reader injury, gojo being a perv

word count : 3k

a/n : thank u for requesting! i'm a sucker for enemies to lovers, so this was fun to write, i hope you enjoy !

he’s been your rival for as long as you could remember, it was always some kind of competition between the both of you. although, the feeling you both feel for each other, is it truly as simple as hatred?

Insufferable.

It was the only way to describe the dark haired boy standing in front of you, a smug grin playing on his lips.

“Alright, calm down, you two,” your teacher’s voice rang over to where you were standing as he made his way over.

Gojo sighs, running a hand through his hair as he eyes the both of you.

“What did I say abo-”

“He clearly had a head start!” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest, glaring down your rival across from you.

“Are you accusing me of cheating?” He raises his eyebrows at you tauntingly.

“Anyone could tell that you ran before sensei blew the whistle!”

“Maybe you should stop focusing on me, and work on bettering your own abilities instead.” He rolls his eyes while starting to walk away, obviously getting bored of the conversation.

“You—!”

“Okay, okay, come on,” Gojo leads you away before you could tackle the boy with his back turned to you.

Megumi Fushiguro.

Your life-long rival, you guys had been by each other’s side for as long as you could remember.

Not that you wanted to remember, you hated him. And so did he.

Everything was a competition between the both of you, and although you would die before admitting it, your constant battles did improve you as a jujutsu sorcerer.

When you both found out you were going to be attending Jujutsu Tech together, you personally saw it as an opportunity to fight him even more, to prove that you were the stronger one, while Megumi-

Well, he didn’t care. He never cared about anything, anyway.

“Come on, we’re heading to the mission location,” Gojo begins to walk ahead of you, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You let out a sigh, wishing you could be in the safe confines of your room instead of fighting alongside your least favorite person in the whole world.

“Sensei, what are the curses’ grades?” You ask after the tall white-haired man, who was getting into the front passenger seat of a black car.

“They said it would be a couple Grade 3’s, nothing too much,” the older man yawns, stretching his arms over his head before cursing as they bump against the car’s roof.

“They also mentioned a special grade or something, I don’t really remember,” Gojo slams the car door shut, leaving you to roll your eyes at the man’s irresponsibility.

About to make your way to the car as well, you stumble as a force pushed you from behind, turning around as you get ready to attack whoever was-

“Try not to die to a couple Grade 3’s, alright?” Megumi smirks down at your fuming expression, before making his way to the car.

“I mean, I know they can be quite a hassle for you, but take your time.”

Inhaling sharply, you massage your temples with one hand, trying to suppress your frustration and holding back from tackling the boy to the ground.

“He’s so immature.” Nobara, one of your closest friends at Jujutsu Tech, comes up to you, rolling her eyes at the boy.

“Ignore him, let’s have some meat buns when we get back.” She sends you a wink before walking towards the car, to which you respond with a laugh.

There will be meat buns waiting when I get back, you thought to yourself, licking your lips unconsciously. It will be worth it, snuggling up back in your fluffy blankets, binging your newest favorite show that was airing today-

“You coming or not?” A voice breaks you from your daydream, snapping your head up.

“Ah, are you scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” Megumi smiles at you mockingly, chuckling as he shoves his hands into his pockets and entering the car in the back seats.

Ah.

This was going to be a long day.

“We’re here,” Gojo announces, unlocking the car door to get out.

You all exit the car, stretching as you take note of your surroundings.

The mission assigned this time was to eliminate a couple curses who had sneaked their way into an elementary school. The students were still inside, so you had to be extra careful with fighting.

“Well then, let’s head in.”

Starting to make your way toward the school entrance, a small groan from the side halts you all in your tracks.

A green, slimy creature emerges from the bushes, crawling on its legs as it stares up at all of you.

It leaps forward suddenly, lunging at you, as you raise your sword in time to block it, slicing it in half in one swift motion.

It lets out a final groan as it drops to the ground, melting into a green blob.

“Not too bad, you actually killed it.” Megumi raises an eyebrow in amusement as you clean your sword of any of its remains.

“Thanks for the compliment.” You snarl at him sarcastically, drawing another sigh from Gojo.

You all continue making your way to the school’s front doors, when suddenly your teacher holds an arm out, stopping all of you.

“Shh, listen.”

There was a quiet voice- no, many voices coming from down the hallway of the school. The building was filled with black smoke, restricting your views of where the sounds were coming from.

It sounded as if the many voices were chanting a curse or spell of some sort, and you all knew instantly.

This couldn’t be the doings of a grade 3.

It had to be a special curse.

Gojo steps forward slowly, entering the black smoke as he checks the left hallway, before returning and nodding to you that it was safe.

You nod, slowly making your way into the school as well, turning to check the right hallway.

The black smoke almost made it hard to breathe, you trying your best to swat away any smoke making your eyes tear up.

The chanting became louder as you entered the hallway, and you saw a figure standing in the middle.

Your breath catches in your throat, ready to turn and tell Gojo what you saw, but could you really describe what it was?

It stood at least two feet above you, with gray skin mixed with red blotches here and there and multiple arms hanging by its side. Horns and unidentifiable liquids stuck to its skin, with its mouth hanging open. It had the sharpest teeth you’d ever seen on a curse- no, you’d ever seen in your life- and drool pooled at the corners of its lips, if you could even call them lips, before dripping down its chin, staining the marble floor.

It continued to chant its spell, however it sounded as if the voices were in your head, in your eardrums, echoing through your brain.

You could hear your name being called from behind you, probably Gojo, but the chants were getting louder, louder, and louder until the special grade was standing right before you, its tall figure looming over you.

Snap out of it, you thought to yourself, trying to shake its voice out of your head, commanding your legs to move. To turn back. To run.

Finally you felt your legs listening to you, and you turned around and ran. Ignoring the pattering footsteps of the creature following close behind you, you ran as fast as you could.

Finally, you could see the light at the entrance, where you all had been before, and you could almost see their faces, until-

“Y/N—!”

A sharp pain shot through your stomach.

Ah, that voice.

The voice of your rival who had been competing with you, fighting with you, for your whole life.

It was like it all happened in slow motion, like in the movies.

Megumi and the others stood before you, with a horrified expression as their eyes travelled down, down to your stomach.

You followed their gaze, a dark crimson stain beginning to seep through your uniform, a sharp horn stabbed from the back, right through your body.

Ah, this was it. That jerk was right, huh? I am weak after all.

At that moment, your body went limp. All feelings left your limbs, leaving you to free fall forward, eyes closing as you begin to lose consciousness.

But not before you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, stopping you from the impact.

“Y/N! Wake up, come on, wake up—!”

Why do you keep shouting? You’re so loud, be quiet.

“You can’t do this, wake up— please—“

I told you to be quiet, geez, let me sleep already.

And the last crumb of consciousness left your body.

A horrible thumping pain in your head. Hushed voices from next to you. Fingers entangled with yours.

Wait- fingers?

It had never been so hard to open your eyes, wincing as a bright light from above hits you directly.

Taking a moment to adjust, you finally looked around your surroundings.

It seemed as if you were in a hospital room, long tubes connected to your arms, hands, legs, making it hard for you to move at all.

You notice a doctor and Gojo speaking by the door, but what shocked you was the sleeping boy by your bed.

The sunlight seeping through the window shines on his slender face perfectly, dark strands of hair framing his sleeping face, one you could’ve almost teased him for until you notice his hands. Your hands.

His fingers entangled with yours by your side, the warmth from his palm radiating through yours as the rise and fall from his breathing caused his hands to move slightly every time.

You wished you could snap a picture of this right now, but the comforting feeling of his hands against yours made you not want to move an inch.

“Ah, you’re awake, Y/N,” You recognized your teacher’s voice as he makes his way over to your bed with a relieved smile.

You feel the boy wake up with a jolt, eyes blinking to focus themselves, before settling on yours and widening.

It was only then that he became aware of your entangled hands, quickly pulling away and coughing to cover the slight pink spreading across his cheeks.

“How are you feeling?” The doctor next to Gojo asks, holding a clipboard in his hands.

“Just a bit sore in my ribs, but nothing too much.” Megumi glances in your direction, and you would’ve thought it was out of concern before mentally slapping yourself at the absurdity of it.

“Alright, we’ll need to keep you here for a few weeks,” the doctor says, noting something on his clipboard. “I’ll be right back, we still need to give you a check-up.”

He leaves the room, and Gojo takes a seat on the other side of your bed, across from Megumi.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Y/N,” he sighs, before leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Good thing you were brought back in time, doc says that any longer and the injury would’ve been more severe.”

You nod, facing your teacher, “Thank you sensei, I should’ve been more careful.”

He shakes his head, “It was a special grade, my fault for not notifying you all earlier.”

A grin spreads across his face, leaning forward slowly in his seat.

“But I’m not the one you should be thanking.” He nods his head slightly to your left, making you turn to see a coughing Megumi, who suddenly thought his shoes were the most interesting things in the world.

Gojo chuckles, patting your shoulder as he gets up to leave.

“I’ll leave you two alone, Megumi take care of her, alright?”

Even behind the blindfold, you could sense that he was sending a wink your way.

The boy only grumbles in response, fiddling with his hands nervously.

You stare at him, before bursting out in laughter.

His head shoots up, furrowing his eyebrows as he looks at you still laughing.

“What’s with that gloomy look? Don’t tell me…”

You tilt your head at him, a smirk spreading across your face.

“Aww, are you worried about me, ‘gumi?”

The use of the nickname you made for him makes him scoff, turning away from you.

“As if. Just wondering about how stupid you were to get yourself hurt.”

He bites his lips for a moment, as if pondering his next words.

“And stop laughing so hard, what—”

Megumi stops and looks away.

“—what if your wound opens again?” He murmurs quietly, but you managed to catch it.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, before chuckling at him teasingly, “So you are worried about me, liar.”

“Am not!”

“You totally are.”

“Keep lying to yourself.”

With a sigh, you close your eyes, refusing to argue with the boy any longer.

“By the way, what did sensei mean before? That you were the one I should be thanking?”

You open your eyes, waiting for his answer.

His eyes widen the slightest bit, before looking away once again.

“...s’nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise your eyebrows at him, confused.

He shakes his head, showing that he wasn’t going to answer.

Groaning, you roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “God- you’re so infuriating sometimes, why—”

“When you fainted, I carried you all the way to the hospital, okay?! On my own damn legs, I ran all the way here, I don’t know why I did, but I did so stop asking—!”

Megumi shouts, panting as he finishes talking with an unreadable look in his eyes.

You gape at him slightly, still trying to register his words.

“You...carried me here? Why didn’t you just take the car?”

He scoffs, “The car is way too slow, I would be faster. Plus, your injury would’ve gotten worse so you should thank me.”

He eyes you, searching for any emotions on your face, but all you felt was confusion at the moment.

A few beats of silence pass, and Megumi sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“Well? At least say something.” He mumbles, shifting his feet on the floor.

You just look at him, not believing what he said, before laughing softly.

“Man, ‘gumi, if I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought you liked me so much that you were scared that I would die.”

You teased him, expecting a scoff or an insult thrown back of some sort, but he just rolls his bottom teeth in between his teeth, not making eye contact.

“...so what if I do?” He finally says, so softly that you wouldn’t have heard if he wasn’t so close to you.

Wait, why was he so close to you—

The distance between you two closed as he leaned forward to meet your lips with his. The kiss was slow, inexperienced, but honest and passionate.

Your eyes widened in shock, while his were screwed tight, afraid to open and meet yours.

A contrast to his appearance and personality, his lips were soft, fitting snugly against yours, the taste of him sweet, like cherries.

After a few seconds, he pulls away hesitantly, sitting back down in the chair.

The tension was so thick in the room, not even a knife could cut through it.

It was awkward for a few beats before he spoke.

“I-uh, sorry, I don’t know why I did that,” he rubs the back of his neck, a heavy pink dusting his cheeks.

“It..it’s fine, it was nice,” you spoke softly, almost whispering.

His head shot up, facing you. “You liked it?”

You bit the inside of your cheeks, before nodding, slowly meeting his gaze.

“Thank you, for saving me.”

A small smile spreads across his lips. Not a teasing one he would use when he was making fun of you, not a fake one, no. This was different.

Megumi was genuinely smiling at you like you were the most amazing thing he’s ever seen before.

“No problem,” he speaks, before slowly reaching for your hand.

Watching you with a careful gaze for any signs of discomfort, he intertwines his fingers with yours, giving it a small squeeze.

“... I was scared, you know?” He sighs, eyes never leaving your face.

“Scared that… I would lose the one person I care about.” You flush at his words.

“I know, I treat you like you’re below me all the time, like you’re weak, but I-“ He clears his throat, not wanting to mess this up. He only had one chance after all.

“-I do care about you, and I get happy whenever we fight against each other, or with each other. I was scared that- that I would lose the most important person in my life.”

You couldn’t stop the smile spreading across your face, one part of you wanting to tease him like usual, but the other part of you, wanted to do something else.

You tug on his hand that was still holding yours, making him lean forward as you met his lips halfway.

The kiss was a little longer this time, you didn’t have to use words to convey your feelings. He knew. And you knew, too.

Pulling away at last, you lightly flicked his forehead, causing him to pout and rub the sore spot.

You giggle, looking down at your intertwined hands.

“I care about you too, Megumi. A lot. I always have.”

You smile.

“And I always will.”

He smiles widely, leaning forward once again until you hear muffled voices on the other side of the door.

“Do you think they’re having s-”

“Sensei! Stop being so loud, they might hear you—“

The door suddenly slams open with Nobara and Gojo tumbling onto the floor.

Silence.

Laughing awkwardly, they finally stand up, nudging the other to speak.

“I- she- uh, we- woah—!” Gojo gasps dramatically at the sight of your hands together.

“So you were having s-”

Both of you flush at the same time, shouting at him.

“We weren’t—!”

You all burst out laughing, feeling Megumi squeeze your hand softly.

Gosh, making you feel butterflies in your stomach like this?

Megumi Fushiguro was truly insufferable.

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #megumi x reader angst #megumi fushiguro x reader angst #megumi x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

warmer than cuddles

w/c: 2.4k

warnings: may plays matchmaker and makes some suggestive jokes

prompt: you and peter get caught in the rain and have to share an umbrella

a/n: thank youuu to the angel who requested <3 swear this is my favorite trope to write hehe ☔️

one of the many things you and peter have in common is being lazy. it’s sort of the basis of your friendship. you’re not the kids who drink or party or get in trouble. you play board games and eat pizza on his ripped up couch. the riskiest thing you’ve ever done is sneak into a movie.

peter was so paranoid you’d get caught, he couldn’t even pay attention. he kept whispering to you about paying the whole time. you had to drag him out by his hand after the movie ended. the next time you went to that theater, he bought an extra ticket to “make it even.”

that about put an end to your trying new things phase. you went right back to your comfy nights in pajamas. tackling each other for the remote, baking terrible cookies that you just throw out, sharing a blanket to stay warm. what also helps is that you cuddle under it.

all the fun you need is you, peter, and your love for doing nothing. may disagrees.

she’s always trying to get you two out of the apartment. in her words, it’s “unhealthy for developing teens to spend so much time cooped up inside.” peter once asked which mother’s facebook group she joined. you snickered at that. may gave you a warning look.

well, you don’t have a choice to stay in today. she’s kicking you and peter out because she has guests coming over.

“it’s girl’s night,” may tells the two of you with a satisfied smirk. she hangs her raincoat on the rack and comes into the living room. peter squints his eyes at her. “you have friends?” he sounds too surprised for your liking. you flick his arm hard enough to make him go “ouch!”

“peter, we only have, like, four friends. that’s counting ourselves,” you inform him with a laugh. peter drops his head onto your shoulder. “and i don’t need any of them but you,” he says sarcastically, rubbing his cheek on your sweatshirt. “aw, i know,” you coo and rest your head on his. may crosses her arms and shrugs.

“you should do a group play date with everyone! i haven’t heard from ned in a while,” she suggests, your eyes flicking over to peter. he’s biting back a grin. “play date?” you try to stifle a laugh when you ask. “you know what i mean. a hang out,” may nods at her better word choice. peter winces in protest.

“eh, ned will probably wanna go out somewhere. we don’t do that,” he tells may, like that’s a completely normal thing for a teenager to say. you raise a finger in agreement. she laughs in disbelief at you and peter. you’re splayed out on the couch, on a saturday, complaining about doing anything else.

“you two make me feel young.” may’s words are a joke, but her tone isn’t. “you are young, may,” you reassure her and smile a little. peter says nothing. his eyes become hooded as he settles into you more. “look at you two, like some old married couple,” may gestures to you from where she’s standing. she smiles this time.

peter’s face gets hot from the mention of you being a couple. your heart skips a couple of beats. you’re pretty sure he can tell from how close he is.

“do whatever you want, just not here,” she gets back to the real conversation. peter hides his entire face in your shoulder as a form of protest. you pat his back. “and not each other. unless you’re safe,” may adds. “may, please. no,” he groans out, positive he’s all red now. you blink at her in horror.

may knows what she’s doing. peter isn’t the most subtle person, especially not about liking someone. she’s learned all the signs that her nephew is falling. he’s falling for you. she sees it in you, too. the way your eyes soften when they meet peter’s, how fast you are to hug him back or beam at the silly things he says.

you two spend so much time apart from your other friends, you basically are a couple. you’re just not old or married. the only thing you need is a push to realize that.

“ok, we’re gonna go now,” peter decides and pulls away from you. “god bless,” you say only so he can hear. he chuckles at that, you getting up from the couch. giving him a knowing smile, you grab one of his hands. he lets you pull him to his feet while exhaling. he’s already exhausted. may watches and shakes her head.

peter walks up to give her a quick hug. “enjoy girl’s night. love you,” he murmurs as she squeezes him tight. even though they tease each other a lot, their relationship is really sweet. it’s very telling how a guy treats his mother. well, aunt in this case. that thought has always been in the back of your mind.

“have fun!” you grin at may when her and peter pull apart. he comes back over to you and tugs on your sleeve. “thanks, kids. we’ll be done around eleven,” she lets you know. you’re already getting your shoes on and ready to leave. eleven is a while from now.

“don’t forget an umbrella! it’s drizzling!” may calls after you two. peter grabs hers that’s leaning against the front door. it’s pink with purple polka dots. you giggle at that. “hey, i like pink,” he defends himself and opens the door, letting you out first. you raise your hands in defense, leaving the apartment.

peter waves at may one last time. “good luck, peter,” she tells him once you reach the stairs. he furrows both eyebrows. “good luck with what?” “you’ll see,” may raises her own eyebrows in a way that’s all too familiar to peter. he calls it her face of wisdom.

still confused, peter heads out. he finds you at the bottom of the stairs. you shove your hands in your pockets and push against the door to open it. peter meets you outside, twirling the umbrella between his fingers.

“is there anywhere you wanna go?” he asks as you start to walk. you’re just going down the block for now. “back upstairs,” you sigh out. “i wish. not an option, though,” peter puffs some air out of his cheeks. you fumble to pull up your hood. he easily reaches over and does it for you.

“thanks,” you say quietly. “you’re welcome,” peter pats the top of your head for emphasis. “we could just walk around.” “until eleven o’clock? that’s five hours from now,” you laugh out, adjusting your hoodie to block your face. disappointment crosses over his features.

“should’ve brought my suit,” he mutters mostly to himself. linking your arm with his, your eyes widen. “i’m not trusting you to swing me around in this weather.” his bicep flexes when your arm wraps around his own. “what? i’ve done it before, y/n/n. on patrol.” you turn your head towards him.

“didn’t you get hurt last time?” you already know the answer. “sprained wrist and a few cuts,” he grumbles, you humming because you’re right. he’d called you in tears when he got home, scared he broke something. you reminded him he would heal soon and stayed on the phone until he calmed down.

that ended up being the whole night. you’re probably the most supportive of peter being spider-man. you of course worry about the toll it takes, but you understand why he does it. the least you can do is be there for him while he navigates the superhero world. not talk him out of it or scold him for making mistakes, be there.

that’s why he loves his lazy days with you so much. they’re his break, his escape from what he lies awake worrying about most nights. you’ve seen what he has to go through, so you respect that. whatever he needs to do to unwind is fine by you. as long as you get to do it with him.

“then you couldn’t patrol for weeks. you could barely hold a pencil.” your other arm sneaks around his. they’re both hugging him now. “you had to be my note taker,” peter reminisces, a smile making its way onto his face. “that sucked, man. you’re such a perfectionist about them,” you breathe out.

peter flips the umbrella around in a show-off kind of way. “you don’t complain when i send them to you.” he sounds so cocky you can’t help but roll your eyes. he isn’t wrong, though. “whatever. seriously, where should we go?” “uh,” peter’s eyes scan the block for inspiration. they land on a man carrying takeout.

“dinner? not at a restaurant since we’re in sweats,” he adds the last part so you don’t have to. “ooh, let’s go to panera,” you happily squeeze his arm. peter quirks an eyebrow at you. “you’re always hungry after.” “so? we can get dessert, too. we have a while.” that makes his heart flutter. a while with you.

“cool, cool, cool,” he sings to you, leaning into your side as you walk. you giggle and push at his shoulder. “i think we can make it there before the rain picks up.” there’s a clap of thunder right after he says that, like something out of a movie. it’s followed by a heavier rain coming down on you two. you pull at the strings of your hoodie to keep it tighter on your head.

“jinxed it,” you remark, both of you stopping so peter can open the umbrella. “ugh,” he grunts out. his lower lip is between his teeth while he undoes the velcro. he pushes down and watches as the umbrella springs open for you two. “here, c’mere,” peter welcomes you under as he holds it above your heads.

it doesn’t quite fit you both since it’s only meant for one person. you forgot he took may’s. the two of you have to squish together so you can avoid the rain, which is pitter pattering down hard on the sidewalk.

you’re comfortable under here with him. the freezing cold weather outside of the umbrella is hardly an issue anymore.

peter turns to face you, letting out a breathless laugh. “you can take off your hood now.” your arms slip from around his. you remove it from your head and give him a toothy grin. it’s one that’s meant to be over exaggerated. “there’s that pretty face,” peter’s voice gets quieter. unlike what you did, that wasn’t a joke.

your pretty face loses its smile. you’re suddenly very aware of how close peter is to you.

you can see the faint scar on his chin from when he banged it into a wall in your living room. he’d ran straight into it during your two person game of hide and seek. yes, you still play that. it was gushing blood for half an hour.

there are also the thousands of freckles dotting his face, the ones you only notice by looking at him super hard. you try to count them whenever you get bored. peter stares back at you while you fall in love with every tiny detail about him.

he takes the time to admire your lips, not just because they look really kissable right now. because of every curious expression they press into when he does something you can’t believe. your eyes, that he feels a sense of safety and honesty and familiarity every time he looks into. he finds them and feels like he’s home.

“peter?” you speak up after a few moments. your tone is hesitant, as if whatever you’re going to ask will change what you have forever. that’s because it might. it’s silent except for the sound of the rain hitting his umbrella. peter finally answers, almost in a whisper. “yeah?”

“i... i think,” you clear your throat before going on. his eyes trail down to your lips again, then back up to your twinkling ones. even on a gloomy day like this, they could light up the whole sky. “i think i love you,” you get out, a hand over your racing heart. peter gives you a small but sure nod. “i think i love you, too.”

he takes a step closer to you, if that’s even possible. his hand without the umbrella comes up to hold your cheek. you watch as he uses his thumb to wipe away a few stray rain droplets. your head tilts to the side, lips parted on instinct. peter leans in until his lips just brush yours, letting you decide what comes next.

you choose to close the space between you two. his eyes squeeze shut, whole face scrunched up when he kisses back. this is a release of all the emotions he’s been holding in that he didn’t even realize he had. you slip into a rhythm, using the angle to move your lips against peter’s.

his hand drops from your cheek to your jaw to support you while you kiss. your own hands grab his biceps, fingers pressing into him, depesrate to have him in your arms. peter lets out a content sigh against your lips before detaching them. it’s not for long. he comes right back in after taking a breath.

you get one long peck from him, then another that’s softer than the last. you give him a short kiss back, lips curving into a smile when this one ends. peter’s thumb smooths over your jawline while he searches for your eyes. he grins at you and tightens his grip on the umbrella handle. he’s surprised it didn’t blow away in the midst of your mini makeout.

“i definitely love you, peter,” you state so genuinely, hands on his shoulders now. that has to be peter’s favorite sentence he’s ever heard. the most beautiful combination of words, said by you to him. “i definitely love you, y/n,” peter agrees, punctuating his statement with one last kiss. you haven’t stopped smiling when his lips meet the corner of yours.

may was right about two things that night. you needed the umbrella for that huge storm, but it did more than protect your from the rain. it also brought you and peter together in a way. the second thing she was right about was that peter loves you, and every feeling he has mirror yours for him.

actually, she was right about three things. you two have to get out of the apartment more often.

#tom holland #peter parker #tom holland fluff #marvel #peter parker fluff #spiderman #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker smut #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader

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mountswhore · 3 years

Note

hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?

one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!

𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount

summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back

notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.

Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.

“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.

“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.

“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.

“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.

“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.

“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”

Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’

“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.

“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”

Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.

‘I recognise you.’

It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.

‘Oh yeah? From where?’

‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’

He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.

‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’

‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’

“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.

‘Bet.'

Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.

Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.

"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.

"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.

"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.

Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."

Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."

"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.

"Perfect. See you."

You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.

"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"

"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.

"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.

On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.

Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.

Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.

Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.

You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.

"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."

"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?

Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.

“Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”

Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”

#mase #money mase #mason mount one shot #mason mount request #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #mason mount blurb #mason mount

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watchyourbluesturngolden · 3 years

Text

you are my home

this started out as a little concept, and then i thought it might be fun to write a whole fic out of it!

(side note: I know we have no idea if sarah and mitch are having a boy or girl, so i just went with girl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

warnings: angst, relationship struggles, arguments

word count: 11.5k (the longest thing i've ever written :) )

"Just an eighth of a cup?"

"That's what it says," Harry shrugged, looking at the recipe on his phone. "Look, one eighth cup of milk. Right here-" He tilted the screen toward you.

"I believe you, it's just weird, it doesn't seem like a lot," you mused, but followed his instructions anyways. You were making chicken parmesan, and the two of you had a rather long history of butchered recipes. It was usually because you were too wrapped up in each other to read the recipe properly. Or because Harry would start kissing you while the food was cooking, murmuring against your lips that "we have plenty of time". Unfortunately, he usually got carried away, leaving you with a flushed face and burnt food.

Not this time, though. You were determined to make this one right. You stirred the milk into the mixture, watching carefully and turning the heat down when it began to bubble.

"Now... we just have to wait while it simmers for a few minutes," you said, setting the spatula down in the spoon rest. "So far, so good."

"I can think of something for us to do for a few minutes," Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist. He leaned down, beginning to kiss your neck, but you quickly squirmed away.

"Nope, not this time," you grabbed the spatula again, brandishing it like a weapon. "Stay back. We're not taking any chances with this one. I'm tired of throwing out charred food and ordering pizza."

"Pizza is good, though," he argued, stepping closer again as you moved farther away.

"Not as good as our homemade chicken parmesan will be if you can just be patient for three minutes."

"Three minutes?" He practically whined.

You rolled your eyes. "You will be fine for three minutes. Wait until the food is done."

He huffed, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "Can't believe you're depriving me of your love like this."

"Yes, you're so terribly deprived," you said sarcastically. "it's not like I've been by your side constantly for the past 72 hours."

"Well, time flies when you're with the love of your life."

You smiled, stepping forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Just one. He grabbed at your forearms, trying to keep you close, but you jumped back.

"No," you said sternly. "The food is almost done and I'm not burning this one too."

"Fine," he groaned. "But speaking of 72 hours... I was wondering about something."

You hummed questioningly, stirring the sauce.

"I was just kind of thinking... I mean, we're together all the time. When we're in the States we're together at your place, and when we're in London we're together at mine. So do you think... maybe we should just... officially move in together?"

You froze, suddenly feeling your heart thudding. It's not like you hadn't thought about it before. You had; a lot, actually. Of course you wanted to live with him. You hated being apart from him, and you knew he felt the same about you.

But still, moving to a whole different continent is a pretty big step. You didn't know how that would work for your job, and you weren't exactly excited to be so far away from all your friends and family.

"You don't have to answer right now," He was quick to interject, seemingly noticing how worried you looked. "Not at all. I just... I think it would be nice to have you with me. I just hate all the back and forth, and I'd kind of like to have a place we can call home together."

A small smile spread over your face as you thought about how nice it really would be. You thought of waking up on a rainy morning, cuddled into his side as you listened to the raindrops patter on the window. You thought of baking cookies in the kitchen with him. Taking bubble baths together. Going on walks in the park every evening. All of that would be so much better if it didn't have an end date lurking around the corner. If you knew you wouldn't have to fly back home in a few days or weeks or months.

"It would be really nice," you agreed. "I just... what about my work and stuff?"

"We can figure that out," he said. "We can do it however you want. I'm sure they could set it up so you can work remotely, or you could get a different job in London, or... you don't actually have to work if you don't want to."

"What, just be your little housewife?" you teased, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No," he grinned. "Well, maybe-"

You turned and snapped a hand towel at him before he could finish that sentence. He jumped away, grinning boyishly and holding his hands up in surrender.

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it. But seriously, if you don't want to work you don't have to."

"I would like to be there with you, and know I don't have to leave anytime soon," you said thoughtfully.

"Like I said, you don't have to decide right now. Why don't you just think about it? As much as I want you to, it is a big decision and I don't want you to rush into anything you're not okay with."

Before you could speak again, the timer on your phone went off.

"That's the sauce," you said, turning around and turning the gas off. "See? It's not so hard to keep your hands off of me for long enough to cook a meal, is it?"

He scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I nearly died. Of lonliness."

-----

In the next few days, you thought about Harry's offer a lot. You couldn't deny that you really liked the idea. What could be better than living with the love of your life? Never having to leave to pick up more clothes, never forgetting something important at home, always being in the same country as him. There were just a few things you worried about. Your job, for one. Yes, Harry had offered for you to quit working, but you weren’t sure if that was the best idea. You liked your job, and being able to earn your own money.

Harry was probably right; it probably could be done remotely. But you would kind of miss seeing your coworkers, at least the few you had been close with.

Then there was the matter of your friends. You would really miss having girls' nights, and gossiping about their boyfriends, and getting mani-pedis every month. Sure, you knew you would be back to visit. But you also knew it would be different.

Then, the thing you were most worried about: your family. You had always been close with them, especially your mom. You went to see her and your dad every week, and you called them almost every day. You weren't sure how well you would cope with being so far away from them.

But at the same time, you were incredibly excited by the idea of moving to London. You had been there before, of course, but never for longer than a few weeks. You wanted to get the full experience. You wanted Harry to show you around, take you to his favorite places. You wanted to go to the town he grew up in, see the bakery he never shut up about. You wanted to be a part of his life, in every way.

So, a week after he first asked you, you made up your mind. You were laying on the couch with him, tracing over his tattoos with your fingers while some cooking show played. He was pretty involved, every so often groaning or shaking his head or tsking at the contestants' "complete lack of skills." You weren't paying any attention, though. You were trying to decide how to bring up the conversation from earlier.

Eventually, you decided to just go for it.

"Harry?" you asked, not looking up from your fingers on his arms.

"Hm?" He replied, peeling his eyes away from the screen to look at you.

"I was thinking... about what you said the other day."

"Yeah?" He sat up more, muting the TV. "What about it?"

"I just think- I mean, there's still some stuff to figure out, but I would really like to move into your place in London."

"Really?" His face lit up.

You nodded. "I'm a little worried about my work, and leaving my family and friends, but... I want to be with you. I hate when one of us has to leave. I just want to go to sleep next to you, and wake up next to you, and not have an end date hanging over my head every time we're together."

"I like the sound of that," he smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "And like I said, we'll figure out your work. And we'll come back to visit whenever you want to. It's only like... a nine hour flight."

"Right, basically nothing," you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Right," he smiled. "But really. Any time you need to see your people, we'll come see them."

"We?"

He nodded, seeming confused by your questioning tone.

"You wouldn't have to do that," you shook your head. "I don't want to make you-"

"I want to." He cut you off. "I'm not going to just let you fly for 18 hours all alone. Plus, I'd miss you too much while you were gone."

"That's sweet," you said, a light flush heating up your face. "Also, my family might be disappointed if I came back and you weren't with me. I think they like you more than me at this point."

"That was the plan all along," he grinned.

You hit his arm playfully, but didn't move your head. "So what would that look like?"

"Well, really we could do whatever you want to. We could just move all your stuff into my place, or if you wanted, we could maybe find somewhere new? Somewhere that's just ours."

"Harry, we are not buying a whole new house when you basically have a mansion. That would be stupid."

"I'm actually really glad you feel that way. That mansion was bloody expensive."

-----

"How much longer until your lease is up?" Harry's impatient voice came through the phone.

"One less day than when I told you yesterday," you rolled your eyes. He was worse than a kid waiting for Christmas. He asked nearly every day if he could just pay off the lease for you and have you move right then. Your answer was always no; you had decided to finish it out on your own. Kind of like closing one chapter of your life before you start another.

There were just two weeks left now, and the evidence was all around the place. You and Harry had started to box up your smaller items, and the space already felt much less like home. You had taken pictures off the walls; cleared trinkets off the bookshelves. In the next few days, you were going to go through your clothes and decide what would come with you and what would be donated.

Harry had been excited to help with the whole process, but he had to go back to London a week earlier than he planned. Of course, you weren't happy about this, but you kind of liked having some time alone to say goodbye to the place you had called home for the past five years.

So you did just that. You wandered around, smiling at the patched spot in the wall from when Harry had knocked over a lamp stumbling around in the dark. You ran your fingers over the slight scorch mark on the table from when you made dinner, but forgot to set down a potholder. Your toe scuffled over the nail polish stain on the rug, from when Harry had tried to paint your nails.

All these little things made your little apartment feel like your home. You would miss them, but you had realized something as you thought back to all the memories. Most of them had been with Harry. Yes, you were leaving some memories behind, but you weren't leaving HIM behind. You would make new memories together, wherever you lived. As long as it was together.

"It's just two weeks, baby, and then we'll be together."

"Two weeks is so long," he sighed.

"It'll go by fast," you promised. "It is for me. I'm keeping busy over here."

"Me too," he took on an offended tone. "Very busy. I'm doing lots of things."

"What have you been up to?" You asked, settling back onto the couch. It was weird to see how empty your space was, but it was nice to be able to put your feet on the coffee table without knocking over the various decorations that usually adorned it.

"Some work stuff, but mostly clearing out space for you. You have a lot of stuff."

"I do not," you scoffed. "I probably have less hair products than you do."

"Hey," he cried. "Rude. My hair is luxurious. It takes a lot of upkeep."

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I moved a lot of stuff into the guest closet, so you can have half of the one in our room."

"Really?" You asked, a little surprised. You knew how well organized he kept his closet, so it was a little shocking that he was willing to just move everything.

"Of course. You'll be living here too, you need someplace to keep your clothes."

"I don't think I'll be able to fill half of your closet, though," you laughed.

"Guess we'll have to go shopping, then!" He chirped.

"I guess," you agreed with a smile.

You heard muffled voices in the background before Harry spoke again.

"I'm sorry, love, but I have to go." he sounded frustrated. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too."

-----

"Today's the day!" Harry practically yelled through the phone.

"I know!" You said, trying to match his enthusiasm. You were slightly less excited. After all, you still had a nine hour flight ahead of you. But you knew that by this time tomorrow, you would officially be living with Harry, and that made it worth it.

"Do you have everything packed?" He asked.

"Pretty much. I'm just throwing the last of my stuff into my bag."

"Did you make a shopping list for when you get here?"

"I was gonna do that on the plane. It'll be something for me to do," you said, turning on the speakerphone so you could move around more freely.

"Yeah, good plan," he agreed. "I've said this a few times already, but I'm so excited for you to be here with me."

"Have you? Have you really said it a few times? I wasn't aware," you laughed.

"Be nice to me, I'm just happy," he said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"I know, I'm sorry," you shook your head with a smile. "I'm excited too. But I have to go now, I have to finish packing."

"Ok," he replied sadly. "See you soon!"

-----

You spotted him right after you got off the plane. He was standing near the gate, searching the crowd expectantly. Once he locked eyes with you, his face lit up in a huge smile. He made his way through the crowd, meeting you with open arms. He acted like he hadn't seen you in weeks, even though it had only been four days.

He buried his face in your neck, holding you tightly against him.

"I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you too," you breathed deeply, inhaling his familiar scent. "But I'm here now. And now we can go home."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Home."

-----

"Harry, the movers can carry some of it, that's their job," you reminded him as he grabbed one of the boxes.

"Yeah, but it'll go faster if I carry some stuff," he argued, motioning to the door with his head. "Open that for me?"

You did as he asked, shaking your head as he brought the box of books inside. He insisted on helping, even though he had hired a team of movers to do this for you.

"Where do you wanna put these?" He asked, looking around the living room. "They can go on the shelf in here, or the one in our room."

"I'm not sure, I think I want some in here and some in the room. Why don't we go through them later?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, setting the box down in front of the bookshelf. "Another box!"

You shook your head again, going into the kitchen as he went back outside. You started going through the cupboards, checking to make sure you didn’t have any duplicates on your shopping list. He already had quite a few of the items you needed, so you could remove several things.

Once the last few boxes had been brought in, and Harry had thanked the movers profusely, he collapsed on the couch.

"I told you you shouldn't have done so much, now you're all tired out," you joked, going to sit next to him.

He nodded. "You were right. I need a nap after all that." He got up, pushing you to lay down and then crawling on top of you. He laid his head on your stomach, sighing contentedly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Oh wait," he lifted his head, already sounding half asleep. "We didn't even get groceries yet. We have to-" He began to get up, but you stopped him with a gentle hand on his face.

You shook your head, running your thumb over his cheekbone lightly. "We can do that later, baby. Just go to sleep for a while."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly. "I'm just gonna go to sleep for a while."

"Okay," you smiled. "Sweet dreams."

-----

When Harry woke up, he was alone on the couch. He frowned at the lack of warmth, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it around himself. He wasn't sure how you had managed to get out from under him without waking him, but he wasn't happy about it.

He planned to go back to sleep, but sighed when his phone buzzed. He reached for it, but then paused for a minute. He decided whatever it was could wait. He retracted his arm, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and snuggling into the back of the couch.

Just as he was about to drift off, his phone began buzzing again. This time, it didn't stop. He groaned, but grabbed it this time. He squinted at the bright light, trying to make out who was trying so hard to contact him.

It was Jeff. There were two missed calls and a text. He swiped on the text, his frown deepening as he read the message.

Jeff: I'm sure you're going to see this soon enough, but the moving van was spotted outside your house. There's already a few articles out, and I'm sure there'll be more. Just wanted to let you know so you don't have to hear it from some trashy website, and maybe you should let Y/N know to stay away from socials for a while. Sorry about this.

Harry groaned, throwing his arm over his face. He had known this was likely to happen, but at the same time he had hoped it wouldn't. He was so happy right now, and he didn't need that to be tainted by rude articles and crazy fans and speculations about his relationships. He just wanted to sit back and relax with his love for a few days, but apparently that was too much for him to ask.

Normally, he wouldn't even look at the articles. He knew they would only be upsetting. This time, though, he felt like he should. He wasn't sure how you would react to this, and it might be easier if he knew what you would be seeing all over the internet for the next week.

So, he opened google and searched "harry styles". Instantly, his screen filled with pictures of the moving van outside his house. There were even a few pictures of him carrying boxes, and one of your back as you walked inside. He huffed angrily. This was supposed to be a happy day, and now he was in a bad mood. His privacy had been violated yet again, and it was hard for him to stay positive after that.

Then he began scrolling through the article titles. He rolled his eyes at the baited language that was clearly meant to create negative responses.

"HARRY STYLES seen MOVING BOXES? Is he going out... or is someone coming in?"

"Harry Styles spotted with NEWEST GIRLFRIEND"

"ANOTHER GIRL? HARRY SHARES HIS HOUSE... YET AGAIN!"

"Just a friend? Or Harry's latest lover?"

"Guess which FORMER ONE DIRECTION STAR is shacking up with his SECRET GIRLFRIEND!"

Against his better judgement, he clicked on one of the articles. His heart sunk further with every sentence he read.

"It's no secret that Harry Styles has been with a lot of women (read about each of his past relationships here). But is there someone new for the Watermelon Sugar singer?

A moving van was spotted outside of Harry's house today, and the star was seen moving boxes into his 8.7 million dollar mansion.

As if that’s not enough, there was a woman seen heading into the house with Harry. Could this mean a new romance for the Grammy winning artist? Well, don’t be too sure. There are many possible explanations for these new living arrangements. Maybe she’s a friend going through a hard time, or even just a family member who needs a couch to crash on.

Or maybe she’s Harry’s newest conquest. Yet another notch in the bed stand! Way to go, Styles!

However, we can’t help but notice: she doesn’t seem like Harry’s type. Come on girl, leggings and a hoodie? And that hair? Apparently, she’s not trying too hard to impress him.

We don’t know all the details yet, but stay tuned! We’ve reached out to Harry’s management for more information. Check back for more updates, and subscribe to our email list so you don’t miss anything!”

Harry clicked off his phone with a sigh. He stood up from the couch, keeping the blanket wrapped around him as he made his way into the kitchen.

No matter how upset he was, he was sure the sight in front of him would always bring a smile to his face. You were wearing one of his t-shirts, dancing slightly to your music as you stirred the pot in front of you. Harry leaned against the door frame, giving himself a few minutes to take this in. He couldn’t believe he would get to experience this every day from now on.

With a fond smile still on his face, he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, adjusting the blanket so it draped over your shoulders as well.

“Hi,” you smiled, leaning back against him. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Would have been better if you didn’t get up,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder to look into the pot.

“Oh please, you were totally dead to the world. I’ve been in here for half an hour now, and you only just woke up.”

“Still,” he said, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “What are you making?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese,” you explained. “I wasn’t in the mood to do any real cooking.”

“Sounds delicious,” he smiled. “S’it almost done?”

“Should be like five more minutes,” you glanced over at the timer on your phone. “Want to get the plates?”

“No, just want to hold you,” he said, pressing his face further into your neck. “I’m not awake yet.”

“Fine,” you said, setting the spoon down. “Then you gotta walk with me, because I need to set the table.”

“I can do that,” he said, his voice muffled.

You smiled, moving around the room to get everything you needed while Harry clung to you like a koala. The smell of food seemed to perk him up, because within a few minutes he was lifting his head and leaning less of his weight on you.

“Smells really good, love,” he said, finally pulling himself away from you.

“I know, I’m an amazing chef,” you grinned, lifting the pot off the stove and bringing it to the table. This time, you remembered to set down a potholer. You didn’t really want to ruin this table that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

“You are,” he agreed, pulling out your chair before sitting down next to you. He scooted his chair closer, moving the blanket again so you were both under it.

His mood seemed to change suddenly as he was piling the food onto your plates.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, looking more upset than you had seen in a while.

“What?” You asked, turning slightly to face him.

“I don’t really… there’s no nice way to say it,” he said, avoiding your eyes. “Someone took pictures of the moving van and us bringing stuff in, and there’s some pretty nasty articles.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. It’s not like you didn’t expect this, but you had hoped to have a few peaceful days with Harry before being attacked by the media. “Is it- how bad is it?”

“It’s... not good,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t recommend looking at it. That stuff is terrible, always has been. They always seem to know exactly how to tear people down; make you feel bad about yourself. You might wanna stay off social media, just for a few days until some of the crazies calm down.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” he looked up quickly. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one that should be sorry, they’re writing terrible stuff about you, and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” you were quick to shut him down. “And I’m sure it bothers you too. I know you don’t like when they get personal information.”

“No, I really don’t,” he agreed. “But I wish they left you out of it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” you said, leaning your head on his arm. “Because now I’m here, and we’re together, and I don’t have to leave anytime soon.”

-----

After dinner, Harry decided you should get some more of your things put away. He brought your bag to the bathroom, dumping everything out onto the vanity.

“Why do you have so many bottles?” He asked, picking up the closest one.

“Because,” you said, grabbing it out of his hands. “They all do different things. This one is moisturizer, this one makes sure my skin doesn’t get too oily-”

“So why don’t you just not use either of them? Seems like they cancel each other out anyways.”

You shot him a glare. “That’s not how it works. Anyways, this one's for dark spots. These glass ones are mineral oils. This blue one is for wrinkles- you know, gotta get ahead of those- and this one is rose water. It doesn’t really do anything, it basically just smells good. Then that’s my hair stuff- and I was right by the way, you do have way more than I do. And this is a face mask, and that one close to the sink is a hair mask, and this little tub is an exfoliator, and this cloth is a makeup remover, but it’s better for the environment than individual wipes. And then my makeup is here- so liquid foundation, setting powder, blush, concealer, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner, and the brushes. I actually don’t have that much stuff,” you shrugged, looking at the bottles splayed everywhere.

“Right… not that much stuff,” he said, his eyes wide. “It’s a good thing I asked Gemma how she organizes all her stuff, because she told me to get one of these things.” He opened the cupboard under the sink, pulling out a spinning makeup organizer. “Hopefully all of your million bottles fit on this.”

“You got this for me?” you asked, smiling. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Well, I don’t think your stuff would have fit in the drawers,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, shush,” you rolled your eyes. “Help me get all this organized, will you?”

-----

The next week was pretty smooth, minus that little hiccup with the press. You did as Harry suggested, and stayed off Twitter and Instagram. You didn’t think it would be too bad, but you had gotten a few texts from concerned family and friends that made you wonder how bad it really was.

Either way, you didn’t really want to look. You and Harry were essentially honeymooning, and you weren’t about to let a few nasty articles ruin it.

“We haven’t gone for groceries yet,” Harry reminded you, coming up behind you as you did your morning skincare routine.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot about that,” you said, closing the bottle of moisturizer. “We can go whenever, just let me get dressed.”

He nodded. “What all do we need?”

“I don’t think there’s too much, but we need some fruit. Most of yours is bad at this point.”

“Yeah, that happens.” He laughed. “I usually buy a whole bunch and then end up having to leave, so then I come home to a fridge full of rotten fruit.”

“Lovely,” you joked. “I also need some chips, all your snacks are healthy.”

“I have no idea what chips are, but we can buy some crisps, if that’s what you meant,” he smiled at you in the mirror.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m not going to call them crisps just because I live here now. I’m still American.”

“Fine, but when we have kids, they will not be using your American words. I’m not letting you corrupt my children like that.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Well then, it’s too bad you moved in with me, isn’t it?”

-----

“Ooh, we need these!” Harry said, grabbing a bag of brownie bites.

“Why do we need those?”

“Because they’re delicious,” he said, looking at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“If you say so,” you shrugged, pushing the cart forward after he threw the bag in. “Where is the pasta?”

“Aisle 17,” he answered immediately.

“Is it really?” You asked, a little surprised he had the aisle numbers memorized.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “It’s just the first number that popped into my head. I think it’s that way? Or maybe over here…” he trailed off, like he was trying to remember where to go. “I actually have no idea.”

“Wow, you're so helpful.”

“I know,” he grinned. “I don’t know, just start wandering around and we’ll find it eventually.”

“What a plan,” you shook your head, but followed him anyway. It’s not like you were in any rush, and you were both having a good time.

“Oh look!” You said, turning into an aisle. “I found the chips.”

“The what?” Harry called from the next row over. “I thought you said something, but I must have heard you wrong.”

“No, I just said I found the chips,” you repeated. “You know, little cooked potato slices?”

“I’m sorry love, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He said, joining you in the aisle. “Oh, silly me. You meant crisps!”

“Nope,” you grabbed a bag of Doritos. “I meant exactly what I said.” You placed the bag in the cart, turning back to Harry. You leaned up on your tiptoes, moving closer to his face. “Chips,” you whispered, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and then turning around again.

“You can’t seduce me into calling them the wrong name,” he scoffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, pushing the cart away. “Did you find the pasta yet?”

“No, but I did find the ice cream,” he said, easily catching up to you with his long legs.

“Ooh, I think that’s where we need to go next.”

“I agree,” he grinned, steering the cart in the right direction. “I think we should probably just get all of them, ya know? That way we won’t miss out on anything good.”

“Harry, there’s like thirty different flavors here,” you laughed. “We are not getting that much ice cream, we don’t even have that much space in the freezer.”

“No, that’s just because I have a bunch of frozen food in there. It’s mostly vegetables. Not that important. I can just throw that all away,” he argued, already opening the freezer door to reach for some ice cream.

“We are not buying thirty cartons of ice cream,” you shook your head. “We can get, like, ten, at most. Even that-”

“You already said ten!” he said, pressing a finger against your lips. “You can’t go back on that now. So pick some flavors!”

-----

“Which one do we want to try first?” He asked, looking at the large selection you had bought.

“Um… I think the salted caramel core,” you decided, picking up the carton of ice cream.

“Oh! You know what we need with all of this?”

“Insulin?”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the bags from earlier and pulling out the brownie bites. “I told you we needed these, they’ll go perfect with the ice cream.”

“Ooh,” you nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“I know,” he said proudly. “I’m full of good ideas. Actually, I have another one. Let’s go watch The Office while we eat our delicious brownie bites.”

“Ok, but if you put on the UK version I might have to leave.”

“I would never,” he said in an offended tone. “I’m not a monster.”

-----

“I don’t want to go back to work,” he sighed. “I just wanna stay here with you.”

“I know,” you said, tracing patterns on his chest. “But I have to start working again too. I don’t think my boss is too happy about this whole arrangement, so I have to make everything twice as good so she’ll let me keep doing it this way.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I’m saying again, you could just quit.”

“I’m not quitting,” you shook your head. “I like my job. And I can do it all from the house, so it’s a really good deal.”

“I wish I could do that,” he sighed again.

“That wouldn’t work,” you smiled. “If we were both here all day, neither of us would get anything done.”

“You might be right,” he laughed. “You’re very distracting.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

“Very,” he grinned. You recognized the look in his eyes, and you knew if you didn’t get up soon you wouldn’t any time in the next hour

So before he could move too far and start kissing at your neck, you rolled off him.

“I have to get ready for work,” you said, getting out of bed.

“What do you mean get ready? You don’t have to go anywhere, we have all the time in the world,” he pouted, reaching out his arm for you.

“I don’t, but you do. Jeff has been texting you nonstop, and Sarah called the other day and told me she’s getting restless at home. So I’m taking the baby today, so all of you can get some work in.”

“You are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, if you knew we were having the baby here, you would come up with some excuse to stay here.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, still making no moves to get up. “She’s just so cute.”

“Well, sometime we can offer to babysit so Sarah and Mitch can go out for the evening or something. But you have to go in today, so you should probably get dressed.”

He groaned, flopping his head back into the pillows.

-----

“Harry! They’re here!” You called, opening the door and inviting Sarah and Mitch in. “Hi guys, Harry’s being a drama queen today so I’m not sure when he’ll be down.”

“When isn’t he?” Sarah smiled, stepping into the room with the baby in her arms. Mitch was carrying the diaper bag, which he set down on the bench next to the door.

Sarah handed the baby over to you as Harry came down the stairs.

“Aw, can I hold her?” He asked, not even greeting his friends.

“No,” all three of you said at once.

“Why?” He whined before smiling at the baby in your arms.

“Because you won’t be able to put her down,” you said, laughing when the other two nodded. “See, they know I’m right.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But Mitch, you’re taking Sarah out tomorrow night and we’re babysitting.”

“I’m alright with that,” Sarah smiled. “Y/N, you should have everything you need in the diaper bag. There’s enough formula for a few bottles, but she won’t need to eat for an hour or so. Other than that she’ll probably sleep most of the time, she’s a pretty quiet baby. She takes after her dad.”

You nodded, bouncing her lightly. Harry was already in her face, smiling and cooing and offering his finger for her to grab. She seemed to like the attention, and was smiling right back at him.

“Harry, we have to go,” Sarah said with one hand on the doorknob.

He huffed. “Just when I start to make a connection with the child, I’m ripped away.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll have her tomorrow night. You can connect with her then.”

“It won’t be the same,” he said. “You know- why don’t we just take her with us? She can just come with us-” he was already moving toward you again, but Mitch grabbed his shoulder.

“No, Harry, we actually have to get some stuff done today.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “But you better send me pictures if she does anything cute,” he pointed at you.

“Everything she does is cute,” Mitch argued.

“You’re really not helping,” Sarah said, hitting his arm. “I thought I had one child, but turns out I have three.”

-----

The next few days were not very productive for Harry. He was having a hard time getting back in the swing of things, and it felt like everything he did was bad. He couldn’t write or play anything he liked. He just felt stuck.

They went over some old stuff, just so he didn’t feel like they totally wasted their time. Still, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly frustrated. He didn’t usually have issues with writers’ block, and he expected to be even better now that you were with him all the time. He had always been more productive when he got to see you, so he thought living with you would give him an extra boost. Apparently not.

Then, to make everything worse, more pictures and articles came out. Pictures from the day you had gone grocery shopping had been captured by some fan, but for some reason hadn’t come out until today.

But they were suddenly everywhere. There were even more articles than before, and this time it was worse because there were full pictures of your face. Before, there had only been one blurry shot of your back, and that alone got enough criticism. Now it was like the floodgates had opened. Every aspect of your appearance was being ripped apart, along with Harry’s “decision making”.

He saw the first article when they were taking a break for lunch one day. They had ordered some pizzas, and everyone was spread out on the couches across the room.

Harry unlocked his phone, ready to call you and ask about your day, but was instead met with another text from Jeff. Like the one before, he had advised Harry to keep you off social media for the next few days and apologized that it got this out of hand.

Sighing, he decided to see what they were saying this time.

“Harry Styles goes on a shopping spree- But who’s that with him?”

“Harry’s “new girlfriend” shops with him?”

"DID SHE MOVE IN?”“

“MYSTERY GIRL and HARRY STYLES search for the necessities!”

He clicked on one of the articles.

“Harry Styles and his mystery lady were seen shopping last week. We can’t help but think things might be getting more serious!

The former One Direction star was spotted moving boxes into his house a few weeks ago. What we thought may have just been a favor for a friend might be something much more juicy!

Maybe she’s not just another notch in the bed stand- maybe this one will stick around!

But really, if she wants to stick around- maybe she should watch what she eats. The Sign of the Times singer was searching for healthy snacks, while his newest girlfriend filled the cart with ice cream and chips. Seems like a recipe for disaster between the two!

Again, she’s seen wearing a very simple outfit. And no (or at least, very little!) makeup. Come on girl, you couldn’t have at least used a little concealer for those eye bags?

It seems like she’s just not trying very hard! We have to wonder- how long can this last?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry groaned, grabbing the pillow next to him and chucking it across the room.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Sarah asked. Everyone had noticed how on edge he had been lately, but no one was quite sure how to address his moodiness.

“Another article just came out,” he sighed. “It’s worse than the last one. I’m so sick of this.”

“Does Y/N know?”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, but he knew they wouldn’t just leave it without knowing if you were ok.

“You should probably call her, so she doesn’t hear it from someone else,” Sarah advised. “I would want to find out from someone I loved.”

“I can’t- I really don’t want to talk to her right now.”

“Did something happen with you two?” Mitch asked, confused. The two of you had been inseparable lately, so this was strange.

Harry shook his head.

“I just- can we just not talk about it?”

He could tell they didn’t want to drop it, but one of the assistants came in with the pizza, and Harry was clearly done talking.

His mood only got worse for the rest of the day. He still couldn’t make anything new, and he was even having trouble with things he already knew. He struggled to hit the higher notes, and his throat was getting sore from trying to force it. By the time people were starting to head home, he was ready to throw a lot more than a pillow.

Harry dropped his keys when he was trying to unlock the door, and then his coat fell off the hook when he tried to hang it up. By the time he got to the kitchen, his jaw was clenched and he was fuming.

“Hi,” you said tentatively, noticing how angry he looked.

“Hi,” he said shortly, opening the fridge. “Is there anything to eat?”

“I didn’t make anything,” you said, still typing on your computer.

“You didn’t-” He shut the fridge aggressively, the bottles and containers in the door clinking against each other. “You couldn’t make supper for one night?”

“Excuse me?” You looked up, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ve been working.”

“So have I!”

“And I don’t expect you to make supper after you’ve been working all day!”

“It’s different, you’re home all day!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not busy, Harry. You know that.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, you could stop yelling at me for starters! I didn’t do anything wrong and you're acting like you hate me.”

His face softened immediately, and he stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t hate you, I could never. I just-” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m having a terrible time with work. I can’t do anything right, nothing is working, and all these articles-”

“The articles came out weeks ago, Harry. It’s not that big of a deal anymore.”

“No,” he shook his head. “There’s more. A lot more, and they’re worse than before.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know,” he replied. “I should have told you earlier, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to deal with this.”

“Well, keeping it a secret from me and then yelling at me isn’t going to help anything,” you said, arms still crossed. “I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Sarah told me. You can talk to me, you know. You don’t have to just keep everything in.”

“I didn’t want to put this on you,” he admitted, looking down.

“I want to know,” you told him. “I want to know when things are upsetting you or you’re having a hard time at work. You can tell me those things.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. Please forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” you said, moving around the table and closer to him. He looked up, opening his arms and smiling as you stepped into them.

“It will get better soon,” he promised. “It won't be this hard for long."

-----

Despite his hopeful words, your situation didn’t get any easier. More articles came out, most of them attacking Harry for his past relationships and wondering how long this one would last. His writers’ block showed no signs of easing up, and he was getting more frustrated with every day that passed.

On top of all this, you had started missing deadlines for work. The difference in time zones made it more difficult than you had anticipated, and your boss was not happy. You’d already had to sit through three Zoom meetings this week, with her lecturing you on “the importance of timeliness and responsibility.”

You were not in the right state of mind to deal with Harry’s moodiness, and the atmosphere between you was painfully tense.

That is, until it all boiled over one day.

Harry came home angry, again. He slammed the door shut and basically stomped to the kitchen. Your day had already been stressful enough, and you weren’t about to let him take out his frustration on you.

“Don’t even start with me today, Harry,” you shook your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, immediately getting defensive.

“I know you probably had a terrible day, but so did I. I’m sick of us fighting.”

“You think I want to fight? I’m so sorry for being stressed,” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“And I’m not? It’s not like you’re the only one in the world having a hard time, Harry!”

“What do you have to be stressed about? I’m the one who can’t get any work done, and I’m the one getting ripped apart by the media,” he huffed.

“Excuse me? Have you been on ANY social media lately? Are you the one getting called ugly for not wearing enough makeup? Or accused of being “Harry's newest slut”? Because that’s that they’re saying about me!”

“And how do you think that looks for my reputation?”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that people are attacking you?”

“No,” he sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I don’t want to fight about this. I’m just really stressed right now, and-”

“Again, Harry, so am I! I changed my entire world to come and be with you, and it’s like you don’t even care, or appreciate all the sacrifices I made!”

“What sacrifices? You don’t-”

“You did not just say that,” you breathed. “Are you kidding me? I gave up everything! I left all my family and friends. I can’t go out in public without people taking pictures of me, and posting them, and saying terrible things about me. I’m trying to figure out my new work situation, and my boss is pissed at me all the time. I’m probably going to get fired if I don’t figure something out. I-”

“You act like you’re the only one with work troubles!” he exclaimed. “My entire career is on the line if I don’t start writing again soon. And all this shit in the press- it’s not exactly motivating.”

“It’s affecting my job too. Do you think my company wants to be involved with all the drama about us? It doesn’t look good for them. All the more reason for them to fire me.”

“But it’s worse for me!” he raised his voice to match yours.

“Why is it worse for you, Harry?”

“Because-” He stopped himself, seemingly knowing he had gone too far.

“No, say it. Say why it matters more to you. Because everything about you is more important, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“But it’s exactly what you meant! You care more about your career than you do about me.”

“That’s not true,” he said, an intense look in his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”

“Really? That’s not how you’ve been acting lately.”

“It’s not like that-'' he exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’m just saying, all this bad press is really getting to me. I’m going to lose support, and it’s going to be hard for me to get it back.”

“Oh please, you’re Harry Styles,” you spat. “You’re the golden boy of the music industry. You’ll be fine. Other people, like me, are actually in trouble here. I’m actually at risk of losing something!”

“You can just find another job!” He threw his hands up. “I’m more in the public eye, it affects me more. That’s all there is to it.”

“I can’t believe you!” you were on the verge of tears now, simply from how frustrated and angry you were. “It affects you more? You’ve been dealing with this for years. How do you think it feels for me? I’m new to all of this, and you’re acting like I should know how to handle everything.”

“You knew it was going to be like this when you first started dating me!” he argued. “I told you, and you said you didn’t care.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be this miserable!” You said, the first tear rolling down your face.

“Well if you’re so miserable, maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me.”

This stopped you in your tracks. Everything the two of you had said so far was angry, and in the heat of the moment. But this felt different. It felt like he had crafted this sentence specifically to hurt you, not to voice his feelings about the situation.

“Fine,” you stood up, grabbing your laptop and charger. You walked right past him, out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” He called.

You didn’t answer. You went into your closet, pulling out the backpack you used to use for traveling back and forth between your house and Harry’s. You began shoving clothes into it, but made sure not to include any of his shirts or hoodies.

“What are you doing?” Harry came into the room, speaking quietly.

“Packing,” you said shortly.

“Don’t do that,” he frowned. “You can’t just leave.”

“Yes I can,” you shot back, still not looking up at him. You zipped up the bag, brushing past him as you went back downstairs.

“Where-” he followed you quickly. “Where are you going?”

At this point, you realized you didn’t have anywhere to go. You didn’t have any close friends; most of your friends were also Harry’s. And you needed to be with people who didn’t remind you of him right now.

“I’m going home,” you said, finally turning to look at him.

“What?” His face fell.

“I’m leaving. I’m going back home. I can’t be here right now.”

“No- you can’t leave!” he said, his face paling. “You can go stay with Sarah and Mitch, or with Jeff and Glenne- or I’ll get you a hotel room or something, but you can’t-”

“Yes I can, Harry,” you cut him off, repeating your sentence from earlier. “I need my family. I need to see my mom. I- I have to go.” You reached for the door handle, but he stopped you, placing his large hand against the door.

“You can call them,” he said, beginning to look desperate. “Or- or we can even fly them out here. But please don’t do this.”

“You’re the one who told me to leave if I was so miserable here,” you said, trying to stop your chin from wobbling. “So that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean that! I’m so sorry, I should have never said- I don’t want you to leave. That got way out of hand, I went too far, I’m so sorry.”

“It did. And I can’t be here right now. So let me-” you tried the door again, but he kept it firmly shut.

“Please don't do this,” he whispered. “Please just… stay here tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room, I won’t bother you if that’s what you need. Or if you really can’t be here, go stay with-”

“No,” you said decisively. “I need to go home. You’re making me feel worse by forcing me to stay here, can’t you see that?”

He dropped his hand away from the door, pressing his lips together. He gave a short nod. “If you have to-” his voice broke, and he quickly cleared his throat before speaking again. “If you really have to leave, then I’ll drive you to the airport. It’s not safe to be out alone this late.”

You shook your head. “I can get a cab, I’m not going to make you-”

“Either I drive you, or you’re not going,” he said firmly. “I need you to be safe.”

You sighed, but nodded, knowing he wouldn’t give in. He was just as stubborn as you were.

-----

You were both silent for the entire drive. Harry didn’t even try to argue with you, which you were grateful for. He seemed to understand that this was what you needed, and he couldn't change your mind.

-----

“Please don’t do this,” he said one final time, watching you walk toward the gate. His heart broke a little more with each step you took.

Even though you wanted to, you didn’t look back. You knew that one look at his sad face would be enough to break you, and you couldn’t let that happen. You needed to go home. You needed your family.

Harry stood at the large window, watching with crossed arms as the plane took off. Once you were officially gone, the first tear slipped down his face.

He made his way out of the busy airport in a daze. He barely registered that he had made it back to his car until he was sitting in the driver’s seat. He reached for the keys, but his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t manage to start the vehicle. Instead, he dropped his head to rest against the steering wheel, and he cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried this hard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe; there was a huge weight on his chest.

Had he just lost the love of his life?

-----

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he realized he needed to get home. He needed to figure out what to do.

As soon as he pulled in the driveway, he pulled out his phone and called Mitch.

“Hello?” Came his friend’s tired voice. It was the middle of the night, after all.

“I need you to come over right now,” Harry rushed. “I fucked up, I fucked up so bad and I don’t know- what am i supposed to do? I can’t do this- I need her!”

“Wait, slow down,” Mitch instructed. “What happened?”

“I- just come over right now,” Harry said, hanging up the phone.

-----

When Mitch arrived, he immediately knew something was very wrong. He had never seen Harry look so torn up. His eyes were red, and he was pacing back and forth while running his hands through his hair.

“What happened?” He asked again. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s gone,” Harry said. “She fucking left. She went back home.”

“Is she ok? Did something happen with her family?”

“No, Mitch,” Harry said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “She left because of me. We had a fight- a really bad one. I said some really shitty things, and it got way out of hand, and now she’s gone. I don’t- what am I supposed to do?”

“What did you say? Was it about the articles that came out?”

“Somewhat,” Harry nodded. “She said it was starting to affect her job, and I said it was affecting mine too, and she said she was miserable, and I… told her if she was so miserable she shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me in the first place,” he looked down in shame. He felt terrible as soon as the words left his mouth the first time, but going over the fight with someone else felt ten times worse.

Mitch took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s... pretty bad.”

“Yeah, no shit it’s pretty bad!” Harry snapped. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he groaned, falling back on the couch. “I just- what do I do?” He leaned his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Mitch admitted. “Did she say when she’s coming back?”

“No,” Harry said miserably. “She just said she needed to go home. I tried to get her to stay, I really did. I said I could get her a hotel room, or ask if she could stay with Jeff or something, but she said she needed her family. The worst thing is… she said she needs to go home. I thought she saw this as her home now. I thought she wanted to be here. I thought she was happy here,” his voice broke, and he dropped his head again. “I don’t… I don't think she loves me anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mitch shook his head. “Of course she loves you. Do you know how many fights Sarah and I have had? You just have to give her time.”

“Yeah, but did Sarah ever leave the country after you fought?”

“...No,” Mitch sighed. “No, it never got that bad.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, another tear falling down his face.

“She will come back, Harry. She loves you way too much to stay away for good.”

“Not this time,” Harry shook his head. “I think it’s different this time. I honestly don’t know if she’s coming back. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Well, you have to apologize,” Mitch said. “As soon as her plane lands, call her. Tell her what you told me. Tell her how sorry you are and that it got out of hand and you didn’t mean anything you said.” He paused before speaking again. “You didn’t mean it, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Harry snapped again. “I was just… I’ve been in such a terrible mood, and I took it out on her.” He shook his head, whispering, “I’m so stupid.”

“I’m sure it will work out if you just-” Mitch was interrupted by his phone ringing. “Yeah, he’s alright,” he said into the phone. “I’ll explain when I get home." He paused before sighing. "Again? Ok, I’ll be there in a few,” he said before hanging up. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. The baby’s sick and apparently threw up all over her crib. I have to go help Sarah clean up. Just… tell Y/N the truth, okay? Make sure she knows how much you love her.”

Harry nodded, still looking awful as he raised his head. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

-----

Harry started calling you as soon as Mitch left. He knew you were still on the plane, but he wanted you to hear his apologies as soon as you landed.

“Hi love… I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how to explain how terrible I feel. I didn’t mean anything I said. I was completely out of line, and I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I love you so much and I never wanted to hurt you. Please call me when you get this.”

Then he sent a quick text.

Harry: Let me know when you get to your parents’ house so I know you’re safe. Love you.

After that, he knew there wasn’t much else he could do. He wandered back up to his bedroom, looking at all the pictures the two of you had hung on the walls together. He thought back to the day you had moved in, and how happy you had both been. He remembered when he tried to put a nail in the wall, but swung the hammer at the wrong angle and put a hole in the wall instead. He remembered how shocked you had looked, covering your mouth for a second before you both burst out into laughter.

He remembered sitting on the living room floor and eating Chinese food while you played scrabble. Sure, you had ended up dropping lo mein all over the board, but it was worth it.

There were still traces of you all over the house. Your coffee cup still sat in the sink from this morning. Two of the cabinets were still open, because you always forgot to close them. There was a purple scrunchie on your bedside table, and a blue one on the bathroom vanity, and a white one hooked over one of the kitchen cabinet knobs, because “I never know when I’ll need to put my hair up!”

He couldn’t look anywhere in the house without thinking of you. He didn’t want to be in this big empty space all alone. The only way he could think of to make all the painful memories stop was to go to sleep. So, he did just that. He pulled your pillow against his chest, cuddling it like it was you in his arms. There was the faint smell of your conditioner stuck to the fabric, and he buried his face in it to just breathe you in.

The next two days were the worst Harry had ever been through. He didn’t know what to do with himself. You weren’t answering any of his calls, and your voicemail inbox was full. He kept texting, but you weren’t even reading any of them. He paced all day, trying to occupy himself. If he didn’t think of something to keep him busy, he would just keep texting, and he was sure you were pretty annoyed at this point.

But he couldn’t help himself, so he quickly unlocked his phone and started typing.

Harry: I’m so sorry, I can’t even put it into words. Please just let me know when you’re coming home?

He scrolled up through his previous messages, sighing when he realized how pathetic they sounded.

Harry: Please stop ignoring me, I need to talk to you.

Harry: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you so much, please come home.

Harry: I sound like a broken record, I know, but I just need you to know I feel awful for everything I said.

Harry: I don’t even care how pathetic I sound with all of this, I can’t lose you.

He decided he couldn’t wait anymore. He didn’t even care if you weren’t ready to come back to London yet, but he needed to see you. He stood up from the couch and marched to the front door. He was going to get the next flight out to you.

He whipped the door open, ready to run to his car- and stopped abruptly in his tracks when he was met with your apprehensive face, one hand raised as if you were about to knock.

His eyes went wide, and he froze. He didn’t say anything, and you could hear him breathing heavily. His gaze flickered all around your face, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were really here in front of him.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly, lowering your hand. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he pulled you inside and against him before you could say anything. He held you tightly, arms wrapped against you as if you were going to disappear right before his eyes.

You reached up, putting your arms around his neck as he rocked you gently. His face was buried in your neck, and you could feel his chest shaking.

You just stood there with him, letting him hold you until you could feel his breathing evening out again. After what seemed like hours, he pulled away to look at you. He put his hands on the sides of your face, his eyes flicking between yours desperately as if he still didn’t believe this was real.

“Are you- are you home? Are you staying?” He whispered. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t slept since you left. The sight was enough to make guilt stab through your chest.

“I’m staying,” you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhaled shakily, pulling you against his chest again. Your head was turned so you could hear his heartbeat, and it still seemed dangerously fast.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “I should never have left.”

“It's ok,” he shook his head. “You’re here now.”

“It’s not ok,” you lifted your head to look at him. “I was angry. But I never should have let you think I was leaving you. That was unfair of me. I said awful things to you too, and I didn’t even say I love you before I left.” Your eyes were watering again, but you blinked back the tears.

“I didn’t… I didn't know if you were going to come back,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I lost you for good.”

You shook your head. “Of course not. I’m here, I promise, and I'm never going to do that again.”

“Good,” he laughed shakily, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. “I was terrified.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “And I feel like such an ass, coming back and just letting you welcome me with open arms. You should probably be really angry with me-”

“I’m not angry,” he quickly shut you down. “I was scared. I was so, so scared. I was about to get on a plane and fly out to you. And of course I’m welcoming you with open arms, I love you. You can always come back to me.”

You nodded, this time letting a tear slip down your face. “I love you too.”

He smiled, wiping the tear with his thumb. “What made you decide to come home?”

“I got there and I expected to feel better. I drove all around town, going past all the spots I used to love. It made me… nostalgic, I guess, but it didn’t comfort me like I expected it to. I went to my parent’s house, and they were great, but all I could think about was the times you’ve visited there with me. I went up to my room, and all I could think about was the time we stayed in there and my bed was way too small so I was basically sleeping on top of you. And how we couldn’t get to sleep because we kept laughing, because your hair was tickling me or I would hit you with my knee. Everything I did made me think of you. And I realized- that town isn’t my home, and neither is that house. This is my home. You are my home.”

His eyes were shining just like yours, and you both reached up to wipe the other’s tears away.

“You’re my home too. And if you want to move closer to your family, we can do that. I don’t care where we live. We can go anywhere in the world, as long as I’m with you.”

#harry styles #harry styles/reader #harry styles/you #harry styles/reader fanfiction #harry styles/you fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x reader fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x you fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #fanfiction #one direction

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

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Hello, I have been looking at your content and I must say that I really like the way you write and I hope you are doing well.I don't know if your applications are open now but I want to give you an idea, how would the yanders react if their beloved has depressive periods and low self-esteem?It may be a bit of an anguish at first but I would like how they would react, use it on purpose or go soft on their beloved.

yandere ! BNHA headcannons

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

goodiebag WARNINGS: depression, self-harm, abuse, manipulation, abuse, profanity, amnesia, anxiety, panic-attacks, arson, bipolar disorder, blood, death threats, eating disorder, guilt, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, mental illness, mind control, paranoia, noncon, dubcon, starvation, suicidal ideation, trauma

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

MELANCHOLIA –

She’s always biting her tongue, the inside of her cheek, her lip. So much so, he doesn’t even know what her lip normally looks like without it being bloated and swollen and red from having her teeth sink into to it. He’s okay with her chosen silence as long as she answers when she’s spoken to, which she does, lacking the will to refuse, knowing it will only cost her valuable energy, energy she needs in case Bakugo decides he wants to rip the breath from her lungs while he hunches over her, his hips snapping into her again and again, ramming at a pace so rough she both dreads it and welcomes it, for on the one hand it’s exhausting and she always wakes up with aches in the morning, yet on the other hand he makes her appreciate breathing which is always a nice reminder when she often times wonders what tranquility would be found in not breathing whatsoever.

He doesn’t want to confront her about it, sensing how she might not enjoy confrontation all that much, and not really wanting the whole ordeal to result in making her cry at the mere sound of his voice. He won’t alter the volume or the roughness of his tone, no matter how many times she cringes at how loud he’s being, but he does try being gentle, at least with his criticism. He showers her in compliments, which is a huge contrast to how he would usually handle fixing things. But, he finds using softer methods benefit him as well, loving the blush that adorns her face each time he does so, his own confidence probably boosting more so than hers.

He does nice things, not really knowing what or which way to help. He doesn’t make her do any chores, ignoring the nagging feeling that keeping her busy would probably help more so than having her sit and look cute all day, but… he’s afraid of admitting it, but… he quite likes taking care of her. He quite likes hugging her throughout the night, feeling her small tremoring sobs against him while stroking her back. He likes comforting her on those same nights where she wakes abruptly from some nightmare, stroking glossy diamond tears away from her cheeks, loving her bloated lips and that cute red wet irritation flushed on her nose and cheeks.

The only times he gets upset with her is when she refuses to eat. He tries so hard to make things she might like, but it’s scarce he sees her taking more than a few bites, if she makes a move to eat at all. He doesn’t want to make her cry, despite it being a constant hobby of hers, he doesn’t want to be the reason to her crying, but… he can’t have her starving. He finds the fear-tactic surprisingly effective on someone who spends most their time fantasizing about death. A few sparks in his palms has her all but quaking, scared half-way into catatonia or even comatose, so much so he has to pull her into his lap and spoon-feed her. Not that he minds that either, he comes to enjoy it quite a lot actually. How her small frame melts so perfectly against his chest, legs swung over his lap, head on his shoulder, remnants of her fear-stricken cries still evident as small spontaneous jolts run through her, being slowly comforted away with the same hand that caused the trouble in the first place.

DABI - TODORKI TOUYA

ANXIETY –

He couldn’t be happier with his little ball of blue wrapped up in soft-tinted crushed dreams with a heart made of honeycombs and dandelion-fluff. Whereas his misfortunate lack of happiness stems from a place of violence, where violence breeds violence, she’s nothing but a tender trauma. Such a soft despair, such a sweet despair, such perfection found in something so devastating. It’s artwork really. How she can cry herself to sleep, trapped in his arms, feeling as though she’s dying, yet wake up the next morning all velvety and soft in his arms, her heart finding comfort in what her mind rejects, what her mind fears.

He tries being a source of comfort for the most part, but teasing and haunting and poking fun at her is such a delicious past-time he cannot simply just refrain from. He’ll be a real villain about it at times. Having her as a complete blubbering pathetic hiccupping mess, poking fun at her crybaby-face as he licks the tears from her cheeks and gorges himself in her panic, his fingers dancing small patterns on her stomach as she wiggles beneath him.

She used to be so scared of him. So skittish and paralyzed, cold-sweating and eyes constantly leaking he had to imagine what her eyes would look like without being rimmed with red. She used to shiver and shake and quake and reel in on herself, curl up until her limbs ached from how small she was trying to make herself become, backed up into the corner beneath his shadow, his leather-boots looking like the onset of everything horrific as she coward in front of them. But wild untrusting childlike beings such as her is quick in nature to tether themselves to the first or only source of light. And though the transition was slow, her anxiety soon shifted from being directed at him and soon for him instead.

It was too easy, and it benefitted him so undeservingly as well it was cruel. How he simply took all those fears of hers, all those fears for everything residing in the new foreign room she’d been taken captive in, manipulating them into becoming paranoia for everything found outside the bedroom door instead. He went from being the source of her dread, of her panic, of her misery, of her pitter-patter heart and shattering teeth to her savior. Soothing her in her frenzied quakes as she spluttered on sobs containing what hellish monsters and dangers found outside, begging him to be careful, to come back to her, to stay.

She will hug him close throughout the night, hanging almost like a noose around his neck when he needs to leave in the mornings, tracing his scars with a stream of endless worried thoughts blubbering in her groggy voice. And he’ll humor her worry and tame the oncoming panic-attacks by giving her a little light-show of blue flames in his palm, words of his own coming to assure her how nothing will ever happen to him and how he will never let anything ever happen to her, assuring however many times he has the time for.

She’s too cute it’s unfair. Unfair that small creatures like her exist without anything to protect them from hungry wolves like him. And though he was never the type to fantasize about clingy things, he has to admit… coming home to someone who lunches at him in the most secure yet clumsy and desperate embrace, he feels as though that feeling of coming home is all he’ll ever need in the world, that she’s all he’ll ever need.

SHIGARAKI TOMURA

INSOMNIA –

It’s nice. He knows it shouldn’t be the word he describes it with, but… that’s what it is. It’s nice. It’s nice to stay up with someone who expels the same type of energy as him, and not to mention the same amount of energy as him, or… lack of thereof. It’s nice living off of fumes together. It’s nice slipping to and from consciousness and how it almost turns into a game of who can survive the longest before collapsing, with the other shortly following, too tired to even bask in their victory.

It’s nice irritating over the same sharp sounds that attack their sensitive ears, not at all like the familiar sound of soft clicks of the controller in their hands. It’s nice communicating almost purely through mellow moans and groans and croaks, always understanding what the other is emitting despite it being but shapeless sounds.

It’s nice finding agreement in how the lights should always stay off, how it’s turned into some religious rule never meant to be crossed. It’s nice annoying over the same crisp bright light of the sun that violate their eyes those times they forget to shut the blinds before passing out after having counted stars and eating in the dead silence of night like nocturnal beings ignoring the light of day as though it were the plague. It’s nice how they can both find comfort in the glow of the moonlight or computer screen, leaching off of the energy like flies.

He’s found kinship in her presence, and despite it merely being himself and her in the darkness of his room, with flying specs of dust decorating the air and their computers the only windows to the world beyond their four walls, he feels as though the whole universe is looking at him when the softness of her glinting, beaming, sparkling eyes set their gaze and lock with his. It’s strange, but he always found angel-bright smiles and supersonic eyes to be too intrusive and annoying and scary to stand before, whereas her sunken dark eyes, ringed with shades of lilac contrasting her otherwise pale porcelain skin, kept almost albino in the darkness of his room… she couldn’t be more perfect.

Come to think of it, it’s perfection. Her in all her sleep-deprived glory, all her drowsy silliness, her sloppy harsh movements, tripping and stumbling with her droopy-eyes, in her soft giggling fits, where she’ll catch her stupidity just a moment too late and roll around on the bed, trying to shrug off Tomura’s teasing judgement as he pokes fun at her idiocy. Giving up on forming complete sentences as she almost always ends up toppling over her own words, settling for whining or sighing as she turns her head to bury it in his chest.

Utter perfection. Never bothering to get dressed, walking about like a little tease in only underwear and Tomura’s ill-fitted hoodie, hair pulled up into a messy-bun too messy, always defeating the purpose of keeping her hair from out of her face. Her unstable movements, disconnected to the ground as though she’s floating. Too grabbable and easily defeated in her weariness when being pulled into his lap, simply humming and moaning in response as he plants soft kisses down her neck, his fingers coming to destroy whatever’s in the way of him and her body.

HITOSHI SHINSO

HYPERSOMNIA –

She sleeps so soundly, like a little couch-kitten. All soft and cute, playing in her dreams. She’ll sleep whole entire days, only opening her eyes in small flutters every now and again and moaning ever so softly once he wakes her, though quickly scrunching her nose and twisting to fall asleep again. Her drowsiness rendering her pride invalid, causing her to pull at him to better comfort herself against his body, whining when he shifts, his warm presence leaving the bed when he needs to go to work. Her little unconscious protest making his heart twist in his chest, tempted to stay in bed with her all day long, yet comforting himself with the fact that he’ll probably come home to find her in the exact same position.

She’s so cute. She’ll curl and stretch, resting anywhere she finds comfortable: in bed, in the sofa, in the armchair, on his chest, his shoulder, his lap. Adorable with her little snores, all knotted up, remnants of her dreams spilling out from her sleep and coming to life in her limbs as she kicks and shakes her head, delving further into the pillow and twisting intricately in about the blanket. Eyelashes fluttering, eyes skittering beneath her puffy eyelids, caught up in whatever hurricane her mind has conjured up.

She seemed unfazed once she woke up in his room for the first time, and even then, she only gave him enough time to explain himself before nodding with heavy eyelids, laying her drowsy head back on the pillow. The situation dawning on her gradually over the first month, and if whether she was startled or angry, he couldn’t tell. If anything, sept for sleepy, he’d say she seemed confused, but alongside the confusion was the look that told him she couldn’t find the energy in herself to think too much about it without her fuzzy head hurting. Settling for eating breakfast with him in the mornings, and even thanking him on those occasion where she would forget the circumstances that led her to live there.

She doesn’t struggle when he pulls her limp body close to his own in the dead of night after he’s done for the day. He’s only mildly concerned, but it’s not his affection that shakes her from her sleep. He’s a selfish person, and he’s not one to hide those ugly aspects of himself. He’s selfish, greedy, controlling. He has to use his quirk on her sometimes… often times. Though she’s cute when she’s sleeping, he wants to do more than just watch her. He wants words, conversation, he wants to know what’s going on in that dark dreary head of hers, he wants to know what eerie things she’s been dreaming about, where she escapes to when her eyes slide close.

What more: he wants those eyes on him, those puffy, sleepy beautiful doe-eyes. He wants her to pay attention as he touches her skin and not simply to moan in response to it, he wants her to hang onto every single moment his skin touches hers. Telling her to focus reaches a long way. Those otherwise sleepy doe-eyes widening in such moon-bright curiosity, slaving at the hands of his quirk. Her otherwise limp and soft body shaking under his overwhelming touch, goosebumps springing to the surface under his tongue, a wicked glint evident in his lilac eyes.

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

BIPOLAR –

She’s fragile on most days. Whether that fragility is in the shape of a daisy or a bomb is impossible to say until she either falls apart or blows up. It’s all rather uncertain, sporadic, spontaneous, where he’s given only a few signs where which he can predict what state of mind she’s in and how stable that structure is.

Most things depend on sleep, and upholding a balanced sleep-pattern has become one of the most important things in Keigo’s life after having taken his little darling. But, she manages to slip past his schedules more times than he would like to admit. When she refuses to go to sleep, his mind drifts to all the fun things they can do if they weren’t sleeping, and when she’s sound asleep and drowsing far beyond what time she should have woken up, he can’t find it in himself to wake her, not when he is the reason as to why she was so spent and sore and exhausted from the events and methods he used to make her fall asleep in the first place.

On little sleep one of two things can happen. She can either have the energy of a hummingbird or be tired to the point she almost looks sickly. On her lack-of-sleep-high she’s confident, cocky more so than Keigo, where she’ll test her luck on how far Keigo’s willing to bend his rules when she misbehaves, calling him all types of names, laughing in his face when he snaps and cackling even harder even madder when he decides to punish her, as though it’s all a game to quench her boredom.

With the absence of sleep causing her exhaustion she becomes irritated, seething with boiling rage, red in annoyance, whatever energy she has left focused on making her discomfort known as she scowls at him each time he smiles too loudly, but being too drained to physically act on her frustration or to even make up a snide comment without evoking a headache, left to simply snarl. He thinks it’s cute, where he knows well enough that if he pushes her limits too far she might just break. Break, and therefore let him gather her up into his arms and hush and tut at her to stop crying while he strokes her back, feeling her tremble with unparalleled frustration weighing down on her shoulders.

Then there are the days she sleeps too much. The same options are present here too. She’s either too energetic or too well rested. Either black or white. No grey. But with too much sleep she isn’t ever hostile, but still wild. Wild and enthusiastic and self-destructive and prop-full of ideas and insane in her passion. She’ll be unable to focus on anything, she’ll forget things seconds after they’ve been said or done, but… she’ll laugh and she’ll smile, and it won’t be one of those haughty nasty smiles she gives him when she’s feeling spiteful, but genuine in its playfulness or even bliss.

Then on other days sleeping half the day only results in her being even more drowsed out, yet accompanying her exhaustion isn’t irritation, but soft-tinted melancholia, where all she does is stay wrapped up in her blanket, quiet and still, silent tears dripping down her cheeks as she focusses on how hollow her chest is, as though caving in on itself, where she’ll fall all limp and snuggly in Keigo’s embrace, humming appreciatively as he wraps her up in his wings. All the while a treacherous smile of satisfaction on his face.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

DESPOND –

When Izuku chose his darling it was done without compromise, without fault, it was done with perfection. Meaning, he fell for all of her, invested in all of her, determined to preserve all of her. Even her inexplainable unfounded absurd plethora of self-doubt that make her delirious and hopeless with anxiety and guilt. He let himself fall hungrily in love with her little terror-wide heart. He fell viciously in love with how desperate in need of him to come help ground her she was.

It was as though she’s made for him, he would argue. It was as though he’s made for her. Some breeds of people are just too vulnerable to take proper care of themselves. Some people just aren’t meant to take care of themselves. Whereas others are made to help, other people need to help.

Emotions are abstract fundamental tools meant to be used. Lesser minds might look down on his methods, yet Izuku came to understand quite early in life that things such as morals are chains meant to keep you from achieving your goal. He has no quarrels with using and abusing those tools presented to him, where her irrational feelings of doubt, hopelessness and worthlessness are a delicious opportunity to achieve his goal. Besides, her emotions are too easily abused and give such great unshakable responses, and even though he doesn’t want to tamper too much with her instability… they’re just too in-reach for him to ignore, too tempting for him to stay away.

The feeling of responsibility sits like an extra organ inside him, where his toes curl each time he sees her large doe-eyes look at him as though he were the sun, as though her whole life revolves around him. She’s just so dependent on him, so in need of his guidance and advise and praise, where he’s afraid she might just drown in her own guilt if she senses she’s displeased him. She makes sure she wears what he likes, has her hair the way he likes, letting him play with her like putty in his hands if he asks it of her. How can he be expected to not exploit what is so clearly offered?

Besides, he spoils her as well. He returns the favor so to speak, even though he knows she has given herself no choice but to worship him in her mindset of inadequacy. She’s so sweet he nearly feels undeserving, because she’ll blush so preciously when he compliments her, bashful and adorable and too good to be true, he wonders how such a creature can ever feel like less. He adores her, yet that doesn’t stop him from finding such satisfying bliss in the fact that he’s infinitely stronger and faster and not to mention smarter. Whereas she’s gullible and too eager to please, another attributing factor as to why he loves her, despite it is also being the cause of her demise, or maybe even because of it

The truth is she’s lucky that she belongs to him. Lucky that he won’t ever let anything happen to her, no matter if she’s the source of her own harm. She’s lucky to have him to anchor herself to as so to avoid floating away in her hopelessness. This is safer for her. Despite him sticking his bloodstained inky fingers and twisting her heart in his deadlock of a fist, she’s safe, safer than she could or would ever be on her own.

CHISAKI KAI - OVERHAUL

AMNESIA –

It’s cute. He won’t deny that it’s cute, because it is. It’s adorable and unbelievable and annoying all the same. She’ll forget the rules, she’ll wander too far from her confines, not greeting him at the door, not kissing him on que, leave questions unanswered despite him having told her to always answer him when she’s spoken to, all things he feels he’s made blatantly clear through threats and countless reminders. But, not only will she forget his rules, but basic living necessities, she’ll forget to eat and drink, forget to get dressed, forget where she is.

She’ll say the strangest things sometimes. Mild and mellow passionate thoughts regarding the clouds and stars and moon and gods and how pretty his snake-eyes are, like great big lakes of molten gold. It’s strange but he finds such great comfort in her little philosophical blubbering, her soft voice kissing his ears like gospel. It’s a tender type of relief or resolution found in listening to nonsense as opposed to the serious matters he has to deal with in his position in the underworld, her view of the world somehow painting everything, even the ugly and the dangerous, in beauty.

Sometimes she’ll drift a bit too far away though. She’ll daydream more than sleep, absentminded when he’s speaking to her, unable to focus on him or anything for more than a few minutes at best. All dizzy and fuzzy, as though she’s just woken from some dream or as if she’s always dreaming. Irritation festers in his chest when she doesn’t answer, but as she turns her head, expression all soft and oblivious, his chest caving in at the sight of those doe-eyes, all anger simmering into nothing, rendering his annoyance nonexistent, replaced by a sense of hopeless forgiveness and somehow appreciation.

When it comes to her for once actually remembering what she’s supposed to do she’ll weigh each task as though one wrong decision would cost her life. Greeting him at the door in nothing but underwear, already having failed at picking out an outfit and resorting to wearing the lingerie Kai picked and laid out for her on the bed in the morning. The simple task suddenly becoming a battle where she’ll spend much too much time deciding whether to take his jacket first or give him a kiss or welcome him home. Too many decisions with too faulty statistics and unsure outcomes she ends up merely standing there doing nothing but hold her head in her hands and whimper slightly at all the noise that suddenly crowded her head, tears already threatening to fall as she stands before him, all guilt-ridden and trembling.

He can be patient as long as he knows she isn’t disobeying him on purpose, especially when he sees how guilty and how terribly sorry she is each time she fails on acting out simple tasks such as those he gives her. She’ll cry and apologize for the mere act of breathing on some days where she’s extra fragile, where she seeks nothing but his praise, his comfort, his hand stroking through her hair as she sleeps restlessly in her sobs on his chest, unaware of the mild smile of satisfaction and endearment displayed on his face.

TODOROKI SHOTO

SELF-CONSCIOUS -

She’s always hiding. Like a little mouse, she’s always squeaking and squealing and hiding. Hiding her face, burying it in the pillow when he compliments her gorgeous eyes, begging him to stop, small timid hands pushing ever so slightly at him. Hiding her chest, her nipples, when he admires them, his hands playing with the soft and supple flesh, whimpering as she tries to twist away. Her knees trying their best to wrench shut, to hide and protect what sensitivity find between them from Shoto’s hungry fingers and tongue.

She’s always hiding… but he likes to hunt anyway. If she drapes herself in pitch-black hoodies he’ll gladly rip them off, or scorch them off and expose her delicious artful body. If she refuses to leave the bed he’ll gladly attack her where she’s sleeping. She’s always hiding, but she quickly comes to understand that there will be no hiding from him.

He doesn’t understand why she would ever want to hide divinity, and therefor doesn’t respect the wish. Having made it his mission to expose every little piece of her, licking up long lines of bumpy purple and white scars, sucking and biting at those pointy cherry nipples strutting at the coolness of his breath, kissing those plump lips of hers despite her cringing to cover herself up in thousand layers of clothes, dark clothes, where only the very least of her skin is remaining on display. He won’t have it.

He has to tie her up on most occasions where she’s too difficult and shy to listen and let him play with her beauty. He’ll have to tie her up like a starfish on the bed, limbs spread in each direction, scars running along them, quite like the ones he receives in battle, only precise and matching and purposeful, his hands coming to touch them in reverence, worshipping every little altercation she’s added to her skin, further pushing its ever-changing perfection, watching as she hopelessly struggles to hide herself, yet the both of them knowing how she’s fully his.

He can’t allow her hurting herself anymore though, not with the fear that she one day might slip up and kill herself just a little bit too much, but he’s happy to help her through the tools of fire and ice. Frostbite flowers look even more as though they belong on her body, as well as blotches of burns, his markings, his teeth. He’ll never forget the moan he received on his first indulgence branding her body with his elements, how she purred in gratitude, small blissful squeals and mewls following, further egging him on.

Once she grew more comfortable with his hands and his stare… or rather… once the need for his hands outgrew her discomfort, she became somewhat addicted. And now, she can be wild in her cravings on some days, demanding it of him, threatening him, fighting him. She’ll bite and claw, begging for him to retaliate, longing for him to push her into the bedsheets and teach her what it’s like to feel alive by teasing her with the promise of death.

Without him she’s left to pick at scabs, counting the seconds until his return. She’ll pull at her hair until her scalp is screaming. She’ll ball her fists, creating those blood-red crescent moons in her palms, biting her nails until they bleed and then some. Then bask in relief upon his return.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

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scentedcandlesandcookies · 3 years

Text

So I was inspired by @mrpenguinpants (go check out their work I'm referring to below this paragraph) and wanted to do another genshin fic. The interactions here can be anything you want it to mean (besides qiqi ofc). Also this is very self indulgent.

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Warnings: Self hatred, self loathing, blood, depressing thoughts ig(?), momentary oblivion of you squint.

Also I'm on mobile so I'm so sorry for not being able to add a read more option!

Somehow you knew without knowing. You said things without needing to say it. A vessel of purity and wholeness. You had so much to give.

But how much was too much?

Qiqi called yours name on a rather sunny day. You were just about to head to Bubu Pharmacy when she ran up to them.

"Could you help me pick herbs? We always go together."

You knew what she meant in ways she couldn't convey. You were special to her, to everyone. You weren't aware of it though.

Knowing the worth of others was easier than knowing the worth of yourself.

"Of course, Qiqi, I'll always have time for you."

Qiqi loved your smile. It felt familiar. Qiqi saw you as an older sibling. She loved you in ways she couldn't express.

"I'm only good to be your ladder though! You know I'm not good with naming herbs!"

On a cooler day, Zhongli called you to have some tea with him. The both of you sat at a teashop watching the harbor through the open window.

The gentle breeze touched all uncovered parts of your skin. The smell of the sea dancing underneath your nose. The sunset painting a melancholic picture.

"The ocean looks sad today."

Zhongli looked at you rather confusedly. After promptly sipping his tea he responded.

"How can an ocean look sad? Something so old shouldn't be humanized."

The last sentence was more for himself than anything. You didn't know, but he sometimes loathed himself for all he'd done. He wondered if all the blood spilt was worth it.

You reminded him of Guizhong, so ready to see things in a new light without judgement. He often hears you sing to glaze lilies around Qingce.

"How could we forget what all the ancients did for us?"

A day after some much needed rain, you spotted Ganyu. Busy as ever, she was handling the unending work she often received. You decided to help out.

"Good morning, Ganyu. You seem to be someone who'd appreciate and extra pair of hands."

The joking atmosphere seemed to help lift the weight more than your hands. Ganyu giggled a bit.

"Some help would be much appreciated."

The rest of the day didn't feel like work. Ganyu felt the days of her childhood rushing back to her. Days without worry or work. Everything felt warmer, the sun began peeking its head out of the clouds.

"I'll do my best."

You visited Hu Tao on a gloomy day. The clouds were gray and it looked as if it was about to rain. You entered the doors of the funeral parlor with the permission of the ferrylady.

Unfortunately, Hu Tao wasn't feeling very Hu Tao that day. Walking into her office, she seemed lost in thought.

"Hu Tao?"

The gift of candies laud forgotten on the desk. You moved to place a hand on her shoulder. A gesture of your listening presence.

"They're just pranks, and I'm just trying to get business. Like everyone else, its just...different."

Pulling her in for a hug, just being a strong unbreakable pillar for her sake.

"They don't see all the things you do behind the scenes. That makes them immature, not you. I don't think they know why you do the things you do, and you know what? That's okay. You know what you're doing, and that's the best thing you could do. You're doing so well."

Liyue knew you so so well. An unbreakable pillar. A foundation that so many people needed.

What would happen if you ever crumbled? Well, that could never happen.

You visited Xiao on a rainy day. No heavy downpour, just a normal pitter-patter kind of rain.

You held a new dish in your hands, thinking that Xiao should try a new dish. Not to 'be more human' but to just try a different taste of life.

"Why are you still coming here? Its a long way from the harbor."

You simply smiled at the ground and put down the dish. Too afraid to sit on the railing, you opted for the floor.

"Being lonely isn't fun."

"As I thought, you're still so blind. Loneliness is my only company."

You laughed for a moment.

"Guess I should change my name to loneliness then."

You dared not to look at the mighty yaksha. You were just a pathetic human after all. Letting the dish sit in your lap, you outstretched your arms behind you.

"And you can't go around telling people they're blind! We all see things differently. You might think you need to spend eternity in loneliness, but we all crave to be loved or appreciated. Xiao, you're stuck with me."

You closed your eyes and turned towards Xiao, giving him a smile.

You felt the dish being taken from your lap and heard him sit next to you.

He began eating the warm soup.

Today was a bad day to go out. Heavy rain and a dark atmosphere. But you had commissions knocking against your income. You were preoccupied with something else though.

Everyone's busy. I really need some help but everyone's busy and I don't want to bother them.

You admired Qiqi for braving through her life as best as she could.

You admired Zhongli for his wise and comforting views on life.

You admired Ganyu's persistence in her work, but most importantly in herself.

You admired Hu Tao for being herself even when others shamed her for it.

You admired Xiao for living through such mundane life, day after day.

You wanted to be just like them, but you just couldn't do it on some days.

You wanted to hide. You wanted to bitch about your day. You wanted to give up. You wanted to hide yourself to avoid judgement. You wanted something different. Someone different.

Someone who wasn't you.

You never looked as good as everyone else. Your voice never sounded right. Your never seemed to be mentionable or noteworthy. And on some days you were okay with that.

Am I really going to be another grain of salt?

You trudged through the thick mud, ignoring the blisters on your feet. The rain seemed to taunt you as it settled in your clothes, your bones.

All you could taste was steel. You couldn't remember the last meal you ate. You felt so tired. You wanted to just stop everything.

But how could you? How could you when everyone else went on? It was just one last commission. They all have so much on their plate, you couldn't burden them anymore.

But your lungs burnt, you couldn't feel your fingers on your right hand. Where was your weapon? When did you lose your bag?

Why were your eyes so blurry? Everything sounded so loud. You just wanted to sleep. You were tired. You were trying so hard.

Why was it so fucking hard?

Why couldn't you do it? Why were you always so unsure? Why didn't you work as well as the others? Your feet moved by themselves. They weren't going fast enough. Your body wasn't good enough.

You're not enough.

You think you're at your destination. You don't know. Everything feels so unclear. Everything feels wrong.

Then there was warmth on your back. It was so warm, so comforting. It finally lulled you to sleep.

The millileth pulled the mitachurl's firey axe from the back of your corpse.

You were confused when you woke up. A girl with brown hair and a hat was frantically calling someone. You were in a lobby of sorts. There were others talking about people who left. They didn't look like people. They were see through.

See through just like you.

"Aiya! Why aren't you listening to me you idiot! You scared us! What happened?"

The girl seemed to be the only normal person here. Suddenly you felt like you've been ripped from that foggy place.

People were calling the same person's name again. Over and over. You were just trying to continue sleeping when you were violently shaken.

"Hey! Whats your problem!"

You shook the person off of you. A young man with a green tattoo and dark hair. A taller man with amber eyes and brown hair. A woman with horns and silky looking blue hair. That girl from before who wore the hat. A small girl with light purple hair and had a talisman on her hat.

"You're alive! Thank the archons! We were so worried when we heard the news! " The lady with the horns looked as if she was about to cry. You felt bad but the tension was awkward.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know who you are."

Ty for reading! Leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed it! I hope some of yall picked up the hidden meanings hehehe~

Part two here:

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Like You A Latte

Pairing: barista!Sapnap x gn!reader

Summary: [Coffee Shop!AU] Sapnap usually hates the closing shift, but when one crazy storm sends you barreling into his life, he might just change his mind.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: this was requested by a sweet anon who wanted something in a real life setting! i took some creative liberty with the au, but i hope you all enjoy nonetheless!

Sapnap grimaced as he stared out at the café window, his lips curling downward into a frown at the sight of the pouring rain. Driving home is gonna suck, he thought.

With a sigh, he turned back to wiping down the table in front of him, trying to ignore the incessant pitter patter on the roof above him. Screw Clay for ditching him with the closing shift. Sure, he might have that presentation tomorrow morning and Sapnap might have let him leave early, but he still sucked. The closing shift sucked.

It didn’t help that it was pouring buckets outside. No wonder the café was empty—there wasn’t a single soul in their right mind who would be outside at this hour and in this weather.

Except for him, apparently.

He sighed, eyeing the clock on the wall. There was an hour left until he had to close up shop, and he was bored out of his mind. He had already scrolled through all of his feeds and was sick of the music they were playing over the speakers. Usually he had at least one or two customers to chat with if they were in the café, but today there was none.

Looks like I’ll be alone for an hour, then, he thought to himself bitterly, leaning his forehead against the wall. Fun.

It was at that moment that the unmistakable sound of the door chimes echoed through the air, and Sapnap’s eyes went wide.

No way.

He lifted his head, turning to see a silhouetted figure standing in the doorway, their clothes sopping wet as they painted. He winced at the sight. Not even an umbrella would have been able to shield yourself from this kind of rain, but it was still painful to see just how soaked to the bone you would get.

Just then, the figure stepped inside, and his mouth went try at the sight.

One thing stuck out about you, and it wasn’t the fact that you were dripping water on the floor he had just mopped.

You were cute.

He just barely remembered to stop gaping as you approached the counter, brushing back some hair that was stuck to the side of your face. You opened your mouth to speak, but what came out of your mouth startled him.

“How many shots of espresso can you fit into an extra large latte?”

He blinked at you, eyes wide. “I’m sorry, what?”

You cleared your throat. “How many shots of espre—?”

“No, no, uh,” he stammered, waving his hand in front of him, “I heard you, it’s just that...” He paused, trying to find the right words. “...why do you want that much caffeine?”

You let out a deep sigh, dragging a hand across your weary face. “Look,” you said, “this paper is due at the crack of dawn, the wifi at my place is out, the library just closed, and I’m either handing it on time or I am going to die trying.”

He raised his eyebrows at you and sucked in a deep breath. “Okay,” he began, “um, an extra large latte, was it?”

You nodded. He turned, grabbing the tallest of the paper cups he had stacked behind him, eyeing it. “Alright,” he mumbled, “that’ll probably fit around... thirty shots of espresso?”

You paused, blinking, and he could practically see the gears turning in your head. “Okay. Okay, cool.” There was a beat of silence, a look of contemplation crossing your features, then you nodded again. “Can you give me like twenty shots, then?”

The words flew from his lips before he could stop them. “What the hell.”

When you only stared at him, he coughed. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to even give someone more than four at once.”

You sighed for what must have been the millionth time as you shoved a hand into your pocket, digging around for a moment before fishing out a wallet. Opening it up, you pulled out a ten dollar bill. “This,” you said, waving the bill in front of him, “will be your tip.”

His jaw dropped, but no sound came out. After a few seconds of tense silence, something desperate shot across your face. “Please,” you said quietly, “for the sake of my paper. I need it.”

Sympathy welled up inside of him at the look on your face. Every college student knew the struggle of handing something in last minute. What kind of person would he be to say no?

“Okay,” he said, grabbing a sharpie from his apron pocket and uncapping it with his thumb, “this is gonna take a bit. Please, take a seat...?” He trailed off, expectantly waiting for your name, his eyes locking onto you.

Your lips curled into a small smile, and he felt something jump in his chest. “[Y/N].” You raised your brows at him. “You do realize I’m the only one in the store, right?”

His cheeks flushed, and he tore his gaze away from yours, fumbling to scribble your name on the cup. “Oh. Um, right. Sorry.” He offered you a sheepish smile. “Force of habit.”

You laughed while you slid your backpack off your shoulder and it sent a tingle up his spine. “Nah, I get it.” As you plopped onto the bar stool seat, your eyes darted to his chest, flashing with recognition. “Thanks, Sapnap.”

He nearly dropped his sharpie, his heart doing a backflip in his rib cage. How did you—? He glanced down, nearly shriveling with relief. Right. I’m wearing a name tag.

Sending one more glance in your direction as you pulled out your laptop, he turned, cracking his knuckles. Twenty shots was going to take more than just a few minutes to brew, and he’d be damned if he didn’t stick to his guns and deliver this absolute monstrosity of an order to you.

A good fifteen minutes later, Sapnap found himself staring down into a pitch black cup. Where the smell of coffee beans was usually even distributed throughout the store, it was now almost entirely concentrated in one cup. With a delicate hand, he oh-so slowly poured in some frothed milk, carefully moving it as a design began to form on the coffee’s surface. A few moments passed in devoted silence, and he pulled away to reveal a perfect milk heart staring back at him.

Indeed, he was holding an extra large latte with twenty shots of espresso. He was half impressed and half horrified by his own creation.

With a small smile, he picked the cup up, sliding it over the counter toward you. “Voilà,” he said, bowing dramatically, “your order is served.”

You looked up from where you were typing on your laptop, blinking blearily at him before recognition set in. A grin tugged at your lips as you picked the cup up. “Oh my god,” you breathed, taking a heavenly sip, “you are such a lifesaver. You have no idea how close I was to passing out just now.”

Sapnap chuckled at your enthusiasm, picking up a rag and walking over to the sink. “I don’t know how you’re going to enjoy drinking that, but I hope you stay conscious.”

You raised your cup up toward him in a silent toast, the mirth in your eyes sending something light and warm dancing across his bones. As you turned back to your paper, he began cleaning up the mess he had made while brewing twenty shots of espresso.

Time passed in a blur as he shifted cups around and wiped down machinery, only sped along by the sound of your frantic typing. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he saw as you raised your now empty coffee cup in your hand and tossed it across the room. In an elegant arc, it landed squarely in the trash can a few feet away.

“Nice throw,” he said, smiling at the satisfied look on your face.

You sent him a thumbs up with a hum, your face looking delightfully warm and much more awake. “Thank you.”

Another moment passed in silence when a realization suddenly hit him. “Wait a second. You finished it? All twenty shots?”

You didn’t even look away from your screen. “Yep.”

His look was one of complete and utter disbelief. “That quickly?”

You deadpanned. “I think the most I’ve slept in the past three days is something like three hours. I’m kind of dying.”

He chuckled. “Understandable.” His lips curled downward as his expression grew serious. “For real though, once this caffeine wears off, I want you to sleep for like, half a day, okay?”

Your fingers faltered in their typing for a moment, and your eyes briefly met his. “You don’t even know me.”

Something in his stomach churned. But I would like to, he wanted to say.

Instead, he crossed his arms over his chest with a teasing look. “Can you really blame me for being concerned? Twenty shots is more than a lot.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but he didn’t miss the way your lips twitched. “Ugh, fine.”

He bit back a laugh. “Fine is good enough for me.”

You returned back to typing, squinting harshly at the glare from your screen as you mouthed some of the words you had written. His eyes darted to the clock once more and blinked in surprise. Was there really only fifteen minutes left until closing? He hoped you could finish in time.

Sapnap turned and bit the inside of his cheek, the cogs in his head churning. I feel like I’m forgetting to do something. An image of the water you had tracked into the café flashed through his mind, and he found himself eyeing the mop and bucket sitting by the corner where he had left it nearly an hour prior.

Do I really want to wipe the floor again? He paused for a long moment. Not really. He thought of the streaky puddle left in your wake one last time, then shook his head. Ah, whatever. George has the opening shift tomorrow—it’s a him problem, now.

A soft yell broke him out of his thoughts. “Hell yeah!”

He lifted his head in time to see you close your laptop screen, a wide grin stretched across your face. “Did you finish?”

You flopped onto the table, letting out a relieved groan. “Yes, finally. I thought I was never going to be done.”

He opened his mouth to respond when your face suddenly scrunched up. Before he could ask if you were okay, you ducked your face into the bend of your elbow, a sneeze escaping your lips. Sapnap’s heart leapt at the sound.

Cute—your sneeze was cute.

His lips quirked up at you as he sent you a worried glance. “You cold?”

You wiped at your nose, shivering a little. “A bit, yeah.” You offered him a lopsided smile. “The rain kind of did a number on me.”

He fiddled with his keys in his pocket, gulping. “I’m, uh, gonna close up in a few minutes. Did you want me to give you a ride back to your place?” He paused for a moment, then quickly added, “I promise I’m not a creep.”

Your laugh made him want to dance. “Oh, yes please.” Suddenly, your smile dimmed, and you curled back a bit. “You—you won’t mind if I get your car a little wet, will you?”

Sapnap stared at you and your dripping clothes, something tugging inside his chest. If it was Clay or George asking, he’d probably kill them if they even attempted to get into his car while soaking wet.

But for some reason, the way you looked at him with your wet hair sticking to your face and a hopeful glimmer in your eyes made his heart skip a beat.

“Not at all.”

“George wanted me to tell you that you suck.”

He turned, feigning an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Clay sent him an amused look. “Something about a puddle? And that you’re a huge prick for not wiping it up for him.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes. “He’s just being whiny. I was stuck by myself yesterday because you bailed on me.”

Clay gaped at him. “I had a presentation and you literally let me go! That’s a valid reason!”

When Sapnap only gave him a levelled stare in response, he sighed. “I’m here now, okay? I’ll even man cash for you so you can just do the easy clean-up stuff, too.”

Sapnap grumbled but didn’t protest. “C’mon, man.” Clay leaned over to gently prod his shoulder. “I bet you today’s closing shift is better than last night’s!”

He waved a hand dismissively, focusing his attention back on the order he was working on. “Sure, sure.”

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Clay was right about one thing—today’s shift was better already. It wasn’t raining like crazy again, and the café wasn’t completely deserted. Well, you were there yesterday, but he had already accepted that the two of you probably wouldn’t interact again. It’s not like you were a regular or something.

He was vaguely aware of the door opening, the chimes tinkling like bells as it swung open and shut. Footsteps approached the counter as he pushed some stray trash into the garbage can, not particularly paying any attention. That was when a familiar voice spoke up.

“Can I get an extra large latte, please?”

Sapnap froze then whipped around, eyes wide as he took in the sight of you standing in front of the cash register. Before Clay could even confirm your order, he blurted out, “[Y/N]? You’re back?”

You grinned at him from the other side of the counter, your wallet in hand. “I like coffee, okay? And you’re not too shabby of a barista.”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “‘Not too shabby’? Rude.”

You giggled, tapping your credit card on the PIN machine. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I did mostly want to say thanks for the other night, since you are pretty great, Sapnap.” Your eyes flashed. “But...”

“...but?” he prompted.

“But,” you said, grinning teasingly, “you might cement yourself as my favourite barista if I maybe got a free snack.”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “A free snack, you say?”

Your smile widened. “Yes, sir.”

Sapnap paused, cocking his head. “I’ll... keep that in mind. Go ahead and grab a seat for the time being though, alright?”

You nodded in assent and slid into the bar stool you had sat in the night prior, pulling out your laptop once more. Once you were out of earshot, Clay leaned over to Sapnap. “You know ‘em?” he asked.

Sapnap couldn’t help but smile a little. “Yeah—[Y/N] is kind of the reason why George thinks I’m a prick, right now.”

“Nah,” he said, “George knows you’re a prick. He just thinks you’re being particularly prick-y today.”

Sapnap playfully pushed him away with a shove. “Screw off.”

Clay didn’t even flinch, only wheezing under his breath as he greeted the next person in line. Sapnap rolled his eyes again as he grabbed an extra large cup from the stack, his hands moving like clockwork as he poured in some freshly brewed espresso and frothed milk. Making a regular latte was infinitely faster than making one with twenty shots, to say the least, and practically no time had passed before he was walking over to your seat.

“One extra large latte for [Y/N],” he said, sliding the cup onto the space next to your laptop with ease, one hand tucked behind his back.

Your face lit up. “Thank y—”

“And,” he suddenly added, pulling his other arm out to reveal a pastry, “one chocolate croissant.” He gave you a sly wink as he held it in front of you. “On the house, as requested.”

Your smile fell. “Oh, wait, no. I was joking. You don’t actually have to—”

“Shh,” he whispered, dangling the croissant in front of your face, “just take it. No one else is going to buy it anyway. Consider this thanks for yesterday’s tip.”

You gingerly took the croissant from his hands, your cheeks growing warm. “Okay, fine.” You held the pastry up to your lips, sinking your teeth in and beginning to chew. Your eyes widened in shock as you swallowed. “Oh, wow. This is really good.”

He placed his hands on his hips triumphantly. “Aren’t you glad you took it, now?”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you took another bite. “Thanks, Sapnap. Seriously, what would I do without you?”

He shrugged. “I dunno, actually be well-rested instead of chugging caffeine?”

“For the record,” you pointed out with a slight glare, “I did sleep for like half the day like you asked me to, but now I’m behind on everything.”

He cocked his brows at you. “So, you’re just sticking around to finish some stuff, again?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Yeah—the wifi at my place sucks and my roommate hogs all the bandwidth, plus you guys are open later than the library, soooo.....”

You gestured vaguely, and he nodded in sympathy, crossing his arms over his chest. “Makes sense.”

He could have let the conversation die there, could have just gone back to wiping down the tables and cleaning up after Clay. But instead, he found himself slipping into the seat next to you, curiosity nibbling away at his restraint.

“I don’t think I ever asked,” he said, resting his hand on his chin, “but what are you studying?”

You grinned at him, his ears growing warm as you began telling him about your major. You asked him about his and what he wanted to do after graduation, and it didn’t take long before the two of you slipped into casual conversation, almost as if you were old friends. While he did have to go take some orders every once in a while, he was mostly able to chat with you while the both of you worked. It was nice—spending time with you was nice.

And it seemed like his heart agreed, too.

The ringing of the door chimes made Sapnap raise his head. He opened his mouth to give the official café greeting before closing it, a fond smile overtaking his features. “Hey, cutie.”

You grinned back at him as you strode up to the counter. “Hey, loser.”

He pretended to wince at your words, clutching his chest in mock hurt. “Ouch.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, your lips curling up as you dug a hand into your bag. “Kidding. Can I get a—”

“Extra large latte with a normal number of espresso shots,” he finished expertly, reaching around to push a cup onto the space in front of you. When you didn’t say anything, your wallet balanced delicately in the palm of your hand, he coughed awkwardly. “I know your order.”

You stared at him in utter shock. “You do?”

He pretended that his lungs didn’t feel like they were on fire. “Y-Yeah.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and you opened up your wallet. “I wish I had a memory as good as yours, Sapnap.” You pulled at out a ten dollar bill and slapped it onto the counter, grabbing your coffee with the other. “Thank you so much, and keep the change, okay?” You took a step back, sending him an apologetic look. “I have to get going, but you’re the best.”

He picked up the bill, waggling it in front of his face. “I know.”

You paused, tastefully adding as you turned, “...loser.”

“Hey!”

You laughed at him while you bounded out of the café, and he felt his irritation die in his chest, something blossoming in its stead. “Kidding!”

As the door swung shut behind you, he sighed, a dreamy haze filling his mind. Weeks had passed since you two had first met, and he could feel himself falling harder and harder. He always knew that he wanted to get to know you better, but now that feeling had grown tenfold. There was something so subtle and real about everything you did—about the way you talked and laughed, about the way you pointed and smiled.

He wondered how much more of you he hadn’t seen, and he wondered if you’d show him.

A voice ripped him out of his thoughts. “Are you gonna snap out of it anytime soon?”

He turned, blinking back to reality. “What?”

George stared back at him with paused lips. “Sapnap, you’ve been spaced out for two minutes.”

Clay turned to look at them both. “You look like you just had some big revelation or something. Are you good?”

Sapnap opened his mouth, then closed it, feeling a lump forming in his throat. As much as he ragged on them for being reckless and stupid, Clay and George were his best friends, and they deserved to know what was going on.

Was this going to go poorly? Probably.

But was he going to do it anyways?

Unfortunately, yes.

“Guys.” He sucked in a deep breath, squeezing his fists by his side as he looked up. “I like [Y/N].”

There was a beat of silence, and Sapnap felt the anxiety well up inside him. They were totally about to flame him, weren’t they?

The two of them shared a look, then Clay turned to him. “We know.”

Sapnap blinked. “You knew?” he said slowly. “Both of you?”

George bobbed his head, cocking a brow at him. “Um, yeah? It’s kind of obvious.”

Sapnap gaped, sputtering. “H-How? In what way?”

George opened his mouth when Clay raised a hand, silencing him as a wide grin stretched across his face. His green eyes brimming with mischief, he sidled up to Sapnap’s side, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Hey, George,” he said, “watch this.”

He leaned close to Sapnap’s ear, and whispered just loud enough for all three of them to hear. “[Y/N].”

Almost instantaneously, Sapnap felt his heartbeat speed up as George’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god. Look at his ears.”

While Clay pulled away and let out a loud wheeze, clutching at his chest, Sapnap’s hands slammed over his ears, hiding them from view. “Do not look at my ears.”

Gasping for air, Clay managed to choke out between shaky breaths, “He’s blushing!”

“No, I’m not!”

“Are—” Wheeze. “—Are too!”

“No—”

“You totally are.”

“George, shut the fu—”

“Alright, ladies, you’re both pretty,” Clay suddenly cut in, clapping his hands. “If you two would stop bickering, then we can actually address the issue at hand, here.”

“Which is that Sapnap is a hopeless simp?” George prompted.

Clay nodded. “Which is that Sapnap is a hopeless simp.”

Sapnap scowled. “I am not hopeless, and I am also not a simp.”

Clay tucked a hand under his chin. “Well, we’re going to make sure you’re not hopeless.” A devilish glint shined in his gaze. “Not for much longer, that is.”

Sapnap swallowed. This couldn’t be good.

“Wait,” George said, furrowing his brows, “what about the simp part?”

Clay blinked. “Oh, no. He can stay that. We’re just going to make him confess.”

Sapnap, who had been staring in stunned silence up until this point, blinked for a moment, then frowned. “Wait a second, you’re going to what?”

Clay leaned forward, patting his shoulder reassuringly. “Trust me, buddy. Everything is going to be just fine.”

With that, Sapnap’s frown only deepened.

Everything was going to be just awful.

Sapnap swallowed anxiously as he slid another cup across the counter toward the pick-up station, George dutifully picking it up as he read out another name. Sapnap had half the mind to realize that they really shouldn’t have let George be the one to read the names, especially when he was so garbage at it, but the other half didn’t particularly care. It was far too preoccupied thinking about one thing and one thing only.

Well, two things actually.

You and his confession.

The plan was simple in theory, at least, but in practice? He had no clue. He’d had it prepared for days now, but he had yet to see you, and he was pretty sure he was slowly going insane.

“Just calm down,” Clay had told him. “Like I said, you’re going to be fine.”

As much as he trusted him, Sapnap didn’t believe him for one second, and he was pretty sure Clay knew it. If he did, he didn’t say anything, but oh boy, could Sapnap see it in his eyes.

Just then, the familiar sound of chimes and footsteps filled the air, and Sapnap felt his anxiety spike.

You were here.

Taking a moment to breathe and calm himself, he casually began to wipe down the counter before him, dragging damp rag across the countertop. At the same time, he felt his heart hopelessly trying not to and failing to skip a beat at the sight of your weary face. “Mornin’, [Y/N],” he greeted.

You didn’t bother to say a greeting back before you flopped into your usual seat, letting out one long groan. “Uuuggghhhh.”

A flicker of fondness filled his heart. “Rough week?” he prompted, his hand slowing down as he wiped away a small stain.

You groaned again in reply, rubbing at your temples. “Oh, you have no idea. My profs have just been unbelievably infuriating, and I feel like I’m constantly on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

He reached over to pat your shoulder, nodding sympathetically. “I get that—sometimes it’s like they forget you have other classes.”

Your head shot up, your face twisted into a pout. “I know right? Like, give me a break!” You slumped forward, your cheek pressed against the table. “I just want to take a nap.”

He smiled fondly at you. God, you are so cute. “Did you want a latte?” he offered. “The usual?”

You paused for a moment, thinking, then shook your head. “Caffeine is only going to make me even more stressed, and I don’t think I can handle anymore.”

He hummed in understanding, then turned. He quickly grabbed something off the shelf behind him before sliding it over the counter to you. “I know it won’t make your week any easier,” he said, “but here. It might make you feel a little better.”

You perked up at that, raising your head to eye the napkin-wrapped item in front of you. Pulling back the soft tissue, your eyes lit up. “A chocolate croissant!”

He turned away with a soft smile. “Your favourite, right?”

You sunk forward, your gaze dazzling in the midday sun. “Because of you.”

He nearly choked on his spit as he whirled, only to see you pulling back the napkin to take a bite. Sometimes, you really spoke without thinking, and it sent his head absolutely spinning.

You sighed as you sunk your teeth into the flaky dough, your eyes fluttering shut. Chewing away as you leisurely swung your legs, you glanced up at him. “Hey,” you murmured, “what time is it, right now?”

“It’s, uh—” His gaze darted to the clock on the other side of the wall. “—ten to eleven.”

Your eyes shot wide open, swallowing the bite you took as your jaw dropped. “Oh, shoot. I’m gonna be late. I have a class at eleven and it’s on the other side of campus.”

Sapnap’s expression mirrored yours. “Oh, shoot,” he parroted.

You nodded as you slid off the seat, scrambling to slid your bag onto your shoulders as you spoke in a hurried frenzy. “Okay I have to get going but thanks so much for the snack Sapnap you’re the best and um I really appreciate it but I, um, I have t—”

“[Y/N],” he said abruptly, and you fell silent, your voice dying in your mouth. His gaze was soft as he gestured to the front of the café. “You’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t waste another second to turn on your heel and scramble to the front. “Thank you!” you called out behind you one last time as you pushed past the entrance and rushed down the busy street.

The moment the door fell shut once more, Sapnap nearly collapsed against the counter, gripping onto the granite for dear life. “Clay,” he said, turning his head to send his best friend a shaky smile full of nothing but anxiety, “I’m gonna die.”

“You are not going to die,” Clay said immediately, walking over to pull Sapnap up from the counter. He clapped him on the shoulder, looking him dead in the eyes. “Like I said, you are going to be just fine. Don’t lose your head over it.”

Sapnap whipped his head up, grabbing his shoulders. “This is probably the worst confession I have ever tried to make in my life,” he said bluntly, his tone clipped with anxiety. “No, wait—this is the worst confession I have ever tried to make in my life.”

Just then, the back room door swung open to reveal a very tired-looking George who sighed with a bag of coffee beans tucked securely in his arms. “Okay, pack it up, lover boy,” he muttered, tilting his head at Sapnap. “You’re on break, now.”

Sapnap didn’t even bother to come up with a witty retort, simply letting go of Clay’s shoulders with a quiet whine before sliding into the back room, his shoulders slumped over. As he walked past, Clay leaned back against the countertop, a curious grin dancing on his lips. “You think [Y/N] will even see it?”

George grimaced, setting the bag down on the table. “I hope so. Otherwise Sapnap here is going to die of embarrassment, and I am never going hear the end of it.”

From the back, a muffled groan rang out. Clay and George’s eyes met once more as they let out another sigh.

They really, really hoped so.

How you made it to class on time with two whole minutes to spare, you’d never know.

You collapsed into the nearest available seat with a massive sigh, the air rushing out of your lungs all at once. Maybe you should try out for the track team like your roommate keeps telling you to.

With a tired smile, you sat up, pulling out your laptop from your bag and setting your half eaten croissant on the table in front of you. You were just about to open your laptop when a smudge of black on the pristine white of your napkin caught your attention. You narrowed your eyes, lifting up the croissant to see even more of it.

There’s something written on it...?

Curiously, you found yourself unfolding the napkin, gasping at what you saw. A sprawling string of text littered the thin paper, all written in a familiar sharpie ink.

hey, [y/n]—if you’re reading this then thank god that means you actually kept the napkin and didn’t throw it out or something. super long story short, i like hanging out with you and would love to get to know you better, so here’s my number XXX-XXX-XXXX and also i like you a latte and also i like you a lot :)

You snorted, your cheeks burning up with bashful glee. Even though he crossed it out, you could still read the pick-up line he had jotted down. It was so very like him to get embarrassed and scrap it last minute. There was something endearing about it, really.

Cute, you thought to yourself, something warm and hazy wrapping around your heart. You dug your hand into your pocket, slipping out your phone. Very, very cute.

A few minutes later, a notification lit up Sapnap’s phone. Swiping his finger across the screen, he found himself stating at a message from an unknown number. His eyes darted over the words on his screen, widening. A yell suddenly flew from his lips, and George yelped as he nearly poured some espresso on his hand.

“Sapnap,” he hissed, whipping around with a glare, slamming the cup down on the counter, “what the he—”

He fell silent as he saw the wide grin stretched across Sapnap’s face, his eyes practically glowing with joy. Before he could even ask, Sapnap shoved the phone in his face, six words printed across the screen in black text.

i like you a latte, too :)

645 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

Sleepover

Warnings: noncon, fingering, oral, somniphilia, unprotected sex, pre-existing relationship

This is dark!Steve Rogers x reader (side of Sam Wilson x reader) in an established relationship and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader stops at a safe house but isn’t as safe as she thinks.

Note: Pretty much I wanted to make the trope “there was only one bed” dark, so I did. Reading the warnings. Last chance.

Also saw that @mcudarklibrary was having a somniphilia theme for August and September so thought this could be a contribution!

I hope y’all enjoy!

Let me know what you think! (Like, reblog, reply, leave some words, a gif, nonsensical emojis)

The safe house was small but it would do. It was just you for the night until you headed to the rendezvous and found your way back to New York. A week of reconnaissance and several days of retreat and you could have slept in the grass. Well, it wasn’t much better.

A double mattress on the floor between the narrow counter and table that folded into the wall. The bathroom was barely more than a closet. A tight shower and a floating sink beside the small toilet. You weren’t entirely sure why this was on the list of assigned safe points but it had been the closest.

You set your bag on the counter and unzipped it as you flipped on the light in the bathroom. Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you answered as you pulled out the cotton tank and sweats you’d wear after a hot shower. The clothes you had on were better off burned than washed.

“Baby, I’ve been tryna call all day.” Sam didn’t even give you a chance to say hello.

“You know I’m on a mission, right?” You asked as you went into the bathroom and dropped your clothes on the closed toilet seat. “I can’t be on my phone all day.”

“Thought you were headed to the safe house?”

“I’m there now but it took a while,” You reached for the shower faucet but paused as you heard a rumble in the distance.

“I miss you, baby,” Sam purred. “Maybe we could have a little fun on the phone tonight… Facetime?”

“What the--” You went to the window as the roaring of the motor grew louder. You pulled back the thick curtain and peered out. You sighed. “Sam.”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“How much fun are we gonna have with my chaperone here?” You sneered.

“What do you--”

“Steve.” You said plainly as you watched Steve killed the engine and wheel his bike around the back of the house. “I can’t believe you.”

“I swear it wasn’t me, baby.”

“Mhmm, and you also didn’t tell him to tail me in Rome.” You huffed.

“That was different.” Sam argued. “I promise, it’s nothing to do with me.”

“You have fun alone.” You said. “Distance makes the heart grow… fonder, is it?”

“Baby--”

“Love you.” You sang and hung up before he could respond.

You really did love Sam but he could be overbearing. At first, being fellow agents had been fun and dangerous. But as things grew more serious, he acted more and more like a babysitter. You both took the same risks, you didn’t understand why he was anymore worried about you than himself.

You placed your phone on your duffel as you carefully stepped around the mattress that took up much of the space. You opened the door a crack as footfalls crept around the side. You pushed it open entirely as Steve came into site.

“Steve,” You greeted as you crossed your arms.

“Oh,” He looked genuinely surprised. “I didn’t see your… car?”

“In the trees,” You nodded to the nearby forest. “Precautionary.”

“I… shit, I didn’t know you were here. I was just in the area on intelligence and needed somewhere to crash.”

“Mhmm,” You held open the door for him as he approached. “You sure someone didn’t tip you off?”

He blinked at you and turned back as he entered. You followed and locked the door.

“You mean Sam? Come on, after Rome, he can deal with his own paranoia.”

You squinted at him and sighed.

“Well, if you can’t tell, there isn’t much room.” You waved to the small space. “More a shed than a house.”

“Geez, yeah,” He looked around. “Well, I can--”

“It’s fine. These things happen. I’m sure you’ve slept on worse.” You shrugged. “Almost thought I’d be in my car for the night.”

“As long as it’s not too much of a bother.” He rubbed his neck. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

“It’s one night. Won’t hurt anyone.” You said. “I’m just gonna get cleaned up and lay down. I’ll try to stay out of your way as much as I can.”

“Alright,” He put his bag down next to yours. “I’ll try to do the same.” He unzipped his bag. “Save some hot water for me.”

You gave a thin laugh and went back into the bathroom. You closed the door but it didn’t click. You tried several times and found the latch broken. You huffed and cranked the faucet. The shower whined and the water pattered down against the old porcelain.

You undressed, careful to keep an eye on the small space between the door and the frame as you did. You stepped behind the curtain and the rings rang against the rod as you pulled it into place.

You sighed as you melted beneath the hot water. You let the steam swallow you up and scrubbed your skin clean. You stepped out and took one of the half-dozen towels hidden away in the cupboard.

You let out a ‘whew’ as you dried off and dressed quickly. You walked out with the towel and draped it from a knob on the counter.

Steve turned away from the window. It was dark outside already. He smiled awkwardly.

“You done in there?” He asked.

“Mhmm,” You nodded and grabbed your phone as you let him past. The place was even smaller with him there.

You dropped down onto the bed and your screen it up with a notification. It was Sam. ‘Babe? Hello?’ You unlocked the phone and found several other messages.

‘Was in the shower. Looks like a long night with the old captain.’ You replied.

‘Hey, nothing to do with me. Promise. I’d check in myself ;)’

‘Sure, sure.’

‘Come on, baby, don’t be like that.’

‘Even if it wasn’t, night’s kinda ruined.’

‘Just don’t let him see ;P’

You shook your head and lowered the phone. The shower groaned in the next room and your stomach fluttered. It would be difficult but you did miss Sam terribly; in many ways.

‘I can’t.’ You typed as you listened to the stream of water. The door hadn’t caught for Steve either and upon a glance you saw his blurry silhouette behind the curtain. Sam was quick to respond.

‘You’ve done worse, baby. You remember Rio ;P’

‘I regret Rio’. You giggled under your breath, the memory of the humid hideaway and your little escape with Sam as Bucky kept watch. You were still certain he’d spotted you on his surveillance.

‘He’s an old man. He’ll probably sleep early.’

‘You realise this house is tiny. I’m surprised he fit through the door.’

‘But I miss you :)’

‘Don’t do that.’

‘I know you miss me more. Can’t wait for this sugar.’

You barely stifled your laughter as the shower stopped and you texted Sam a heart eye emoji before flipping to another app. You knew Sam wasn’t going to let up but it would be awkward enough spending the night here in such close confines with Steve. You and him were rarely alone; you usually had the buffer of Bucky or Sam. You’d always found the First Avenger a little stringent; tight-lipped and a bit of a hard ass.

Your eyes flicked up as the door opened all the way and Steve stepped through. You cleared your throat and glanced back at your phone. He only had the towel around his waist. You crossed your legs and scrolled through your timeline.

“Forgot my clothes out here,” He said. “It’s been such a long day, it’s all slipping my mind.”

“No worries,” You kept your eyes on your phone as he gathered up a bundle from his bag and fled back to the bathroom.

You blinked and finally lifted your head. Your phone buzzed and you looked down. ‘You got me all worked up.’ Sam included an eggplant at the end and you quickly swept away the bubble. Steve emerged in a pair of track pants and an A shirt that did little to conceal his muscular torso as the fabric was stretched taut.

He shoved his dirty gear in his bag and fished around for his own phone. He neared the other side of the mattress and gave a doubtful look at the space beside you.

“Um, sorry if it’s a bit cramped.” He lowered himself carefully. “You know, about seventy-odd years ago, you wouldn’t even have noticed me.”

You chuckled and shimmied over to give him more space as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“It’s fine. Sam’s a bed hog. I’m used to it.” You assured him.

“Oh, yeah, I learned that once.” Steve scoffed. “This place in Germany. A lot like this one. He’s not very accommodating.”

“No, not when it comes to sleep,” You muttered.

“Chatterbox,” Steve remarked as he unlocked his phone. “As is Bucky today… uncharacteristically.”

Your own phone buzzed as Steve opened up his messages. You lifted your own screen and cautiously swiped up. ‘How long til he’s asleep? I’m so hard it hurts.’ Sam’s message had you framing the phone with your hand in shame.

‘Don’t get me worked up,’ You warned as you shifted beside Steve.

‘I was just looking at those photos you sent on Valentines. I can’t help myself.’

‘Stop :/’

‘You know I can’t. That little outfit was too much. Tell me you still have it.’

‘He’s going to see. Stop.’

You coughed and flipped your phone as you sensed movement along your peripheral. You peeked over at Steve but he just stared at his phone as he typed with his thumbs slowly. Maybe you were overly paranoid. You looked at your screen again.

‘You look just as good without it.’ Sam’s text made your stomach knot.

‘You never seemed too picky :P’

‘I bet you look just as good now. What are you wearing, baby?’

You wanted to laugh at him. You weren’t exactly dressed to the nines. ‘Sweats and a tank. Very sexy.’

‘Oo u know I love ur ass in sweats’.

‘Haha, sure’.

You heard a growl from beside you and quickly lowered your phone. You looked at Steve as he shook his head at his own cell.

“Sorry, Bucky’s just… being Bucky.” He blackened his phone and sat up. He tucked it under his pillow and yawned. “I think I’m just going to sleep. I’ve been on the road all day.”

“Sure,” You said. “I’ll get the light.”

“You don’t have to sleep yet.” He slid down onto his back. “I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I’m pretty tired myself.” You said.

You left your phone on the mattress as you stood and pulled the string of the hanging bulb. The space went black and you carefully toed your way back to the bed. As you got onto the mattress you nearly landed on Steve and apologized as you righted yourself. You fished out your phone as you laid atop the covers.

“Night,” You said as you held your phone to your stomach.

“Night,” He echoed.

You rolled onto your side, your back to him, and dimmed your screen. You unlocked your phone again. ‘When you get home, I’m taking you to dinner and you’re not wearing panties.’

‘Ur so bad.’

‘Not as bad as you, baby’.

'You really gotta stop. I need sleep.'

'I'll leave you alone if you send me something to tide me over ;)'

'Steve is right here'.

'When he's asleep. Trust me, he's out like a light after dark.'

'I'll try… no promises.'

You hid your phone and listened. Steve barely moved and you could only hear his breath as it slowed to a steady lull.

You rolled onto your back an glanced over at him. His eyes were closed and no tension marred his face. You bit the tip of your tongue and sat up.

You kept watch over him as you opened your camera. You turned on your flash and flipped it around. You had one shot in the dark. You pulled down your tank top, goosebumps as the fear of getting caught tickled your skin. You lined up your finger and clicked as you gave as coy a look as you could manage.

Flash, snap, you quickly laid back down and pulled up your shirt. You were on your side as you checked the pic. Not bad… you sent it and held in a giggle. Your phone buzzed not long after.

'Oh baby that will def get me thru the nite'. You sent a heart and a kissy emoji in reply and told him you had to go to sleep.

He returned the sentiment and you set your phone on the floor, content to wait until your homecoming for a release of the heat pooling in your core.

You closed your eyes and yawned. You really were tired.

💤

Steve sighed. She was asleep. He could tell as her heart slowed and her breaths evened out. He had fought to keep still until she did; as she had continued her texting, and even as she had chanced to take that naughty photo. And right beside him!

It was hard to keep his cool as he laid next to her. As she got out of the shower, he’d chanced to look up and see her through the crack of the door before she wrapped herself in a towel. And then he had barely been able to keep his eyes on her face as her nipples stuck out beneath the cotton of her tank.

And next to her. Her warmth seeping into him. He could sense her nerves as Sam goaded her through her phone. As she did a poor job at hiding her screen and he pretended to be distracted by her own. She had completely missed that he’d open the tracking app with the little dot that blipped right over them. The very one that told her where she was at all times.

It’s how he found her all alone in the safe house. Convenient that it was so small but he had a plan either way. He’d been fantasizing about this very moment for months. Close to a year. Every time he saw her it got harder to act normal. Often he just shut down and went quiet. And seeing her with Sam…

His hand was on the waist of his track pants, fingertips picking at the elastic. He’d been hard all night, at this point, throbbing. He flinched as his hand brushed his erection through his pants. He let out a strained breath through his teeth and shivered.

He peeked over at her. In her sleep, she’d turned on her side to face him. She looked peaceful and yet a shadow of that naughty grin she’d given to her phone remained. Steve began to rub himself through the thin crotch of his track pants. He groaned. Looking at her, it felt even better. Her airy snores, just a hiss between her pouted lips, kept time as he stoked himself.

His other hand grasped hers. What was he doing? He dragged her hand from where it laid bent before her chest and he pushed it down until it was next to his. He slid it beneath and held it to his hard dick as it twitched. He swallowed a grunt as he used her palm to pleasure himself.

She murmured and he let go of her. Her hand fell between them but she didn’t wake. She fell onto her back and brought her arm up over her head, her elbow barely missing his temple. She grumbled and her breaths petered out once more. He watched her for a moment and admired the way her tank top had been pulled askew and her sweats had rolled lower on her hips.

He couldn’t help but trace the elastic with his fingers, grazing the skin bared just above. She didn’t react, didn’t move, didn’t make a noise. He pushed beneath her pants, just a little. He felt the smooth skin of her pelvis as he watched her face. Her eyes didn’t flutter open and she didn’t stir to stop him. He tickled the trimmed hair further down and he let out a long shaky breath.

He traced the line of her cunt and carefully dipped his finger between her folds. She was wet despite her unconsciousness. His fingertip slid over her clit and she let out a moan that ended in a nasally snore. He watched her cheek twitch but she still didn’t wake. He pressed another finger down and flicked down and back up. He dragged his fingers along until she began to slicken.

He withdrew his hand and kept his eyes on her. She pushed her arm down over her face and arched her back as she stretched, a sleep grumble as she wiggled beside him. He brushed his fingers along his lips and tasted her. He looked her over and felt the deep pain of his arousal. It was more than that, it was an insatiable and overwhelming need.

He sat up, careful no to jostle her. His hand crawled down her thigh and he sidled over as he inched her legs apart. He lifted himself onto his knees and turned to climb between hers. He stopped as he knelt above her and she still was completely unaware.

He waited a moment before he grasped the waist of her sweats. His hands slipped around and he eased them past her ass as he lifted her. She was putty in his hands. Dead weight as her chest rose and fell without disturbance.

He rolled her pants down a little more. And more. And more. He stared at the soft outlines of her nudity as he bared her and drew her pants down her legs. He backed off the mattress and untangled her feet. He got back between her knees and ran his palms along her naked legs. Goosebumps rose at his touch and she moaned but her arm remained over her eyes and she only muttered between snores.

He paused and leaned over his side of the mattress. He grabbed his phone from under his pillow and quickly swiped it open. He clicked on the camera and turned the flash on. He grasped the top of the tank top and pulled until the straps slid down her arms and her chest came free. He snapped a picture, then another with his hand on her tit. Then he bent to take her nipple in his mouth and suckled until his cock was sore.

He pulled back and looked over her as he set his phone aside. His little doll.

Steve slid his hands down onto the mattress and bent over her. His nose grazed her tuft of hair and he inhaled her scent. He hummed in delight. He nuzzled her closer and poked his tongue out along her folds. He delved deeper and teased her clit and a sharp breath had him frozen. He glanced up but she was still asleep.

He flicked his tongue and she squeaked again. He loved that sound. He remembered that sound, dreamt of it since he’d first heard. Her and Sam never seemed to have much shame or perhaps it was a lack of awareness. That day in the training room when they thought they were alone; when they didn’t know he was just outside the door, kept from his own workout as they wrestled on the mats.

He brought his hand up to feel along her entrance. He poked a finger inside her and felt how tight she was. He added another finger and imagined her around his cock as he had a hundred times before. He lapped at her hungrily and curled his fingers inside her. Her walls constricted as her orgasm built and he guided her through it. He felt it and heard the stifled pattern of her breath as she crested the peak.

He slowed and peeked up at her. He withdrew his hand and reluctantly parted as he sat up. Her arm had slipped from her face and bent around her pillow. He could hear her heartbeat as it raced and yet she was asleep still. How could she not have woken?

Steve gripped the top of his pants. He looked down at his hands as if they weren't his own. He rose and stepped out of his track pants and swiped his shirt over his head. His hands glossed over his hot torso and his chest threatened to burst as every sense was magnified. He needed her. He could have her. Like this.

He bent and took his phone again. He switched to record and the flash bloomed to life. He angled the lens over every inch of her as he watched the screen. He backed up and went to the counter. He propped his phone up against the side of the bag, adjusting it until it focused on the mattress. He wanted to remember it even if she didn’t.

His fingers wrapped around his cock and he stroked himself and neared the bed. He groaned and lowered himself before her. He bent her legs around him as he bent over her. He slid his arm beneath her head and it lolled into the crook of his elbow. He pressed his tip to her folds and slickened himself with her arousal.

He prodded at her entrance and held his breath. He watched her face in the dark as he pushed into her. She stretched around his tip and her breath rushed along his thick bicep. He went deeper, unable to stop as her warmth beckoned to him. He was halfway in and felt as if he couldn’t go any further. She was so tight and yet he had too. He wanted all of her.

He held his breath and thrust to his limit. She gasped and her head turned suddenly as her eyes snapped open. The shock in her face was startling and somehow intoxicating. She blinked as she mumbled in confusion and she brought her hands up against his chest as she tried to shove him off. He jerked his hips and she cried out.

“S-Steve…” She gulped as she felt his thick muscles helplessly. “What are you--”

He pulled back and thrust into her again. Her legs tensed against him and her body arched beneath him. He hushed her and smothered her lips with his. She tried to pull away but she was trapped under his weight; in his strength. He liked the way she writhed, the way her tongue tried to force his out, the way her nails dug into the skin of his chest, the frantic noises that he swallowed up.

💤

You were so full it hurt. Your heart beat faster than ever as your eyes searched the dark. All you could see was the shadow of the man atop you, feel his sheer strength as he cradled your head with his thick arm and moved his body atop yours. You clawed at his chest as you squeezed him with your thighs, trying to get him off of you but only seeming to draw him deeper.

You pushed your head to the side as you finally tore your lips from his and gulped at the air. His motion built steadily as his groans seeped into you and made your stomach turn.

At first, you hadn’t known where you were. It took a moment to recall the safe house and the mission that had led you there. Another to remember Steve’s unexpected arrival and your hasty texts before you resigned to sleep. And another to realise what he was doing to you. To realise that while you were terrified, it felt good. To battle with yourself and your weak body.

“Steve…” You rasped as his wet lips crushed against your cheek and his hips moved steadily against you. “Stop. What are you-- Sam…” You could barely form a thought, let alone speak. “Please--”

“I couldn’t wait any longer.” He growled as he sped up. “You’re so good. So tight.”

“Steve--”

“Mmm, say it again.” His other hand gripped your hip as he tilted into you. “I love my name in your mouth.”

“No, no, no,” You murmured. “Why--”

He impaled you sharply and your voice fizzled in your throat. He rested his weight on you as he sank into you completely and held himself there. Carefully he rolled onto his side and took you with him. He hooked your leg around his side as your other was trapped under him. His arms wrapped around you as he rocked into you.

He grabbed your leg and bent it even higher, straining your muscles as he crashed into you harder and deeper. You beat on his shoulder and threw your head back as you tried to resist the swelling in your core.

“It’s okay,” He purred. “You can cum for me.”

“St-e-ve,” You stuttered and grasped his shoulder. “Why--”

“Can I cum in you?” He asked as he grabbed your head and made you look at him. A light shone from behind him. You hadn’t noticed that before. “I gotta-- I’m gonna fill you up.”

“No, no…” You pushed helplessly. He wasn’t wearing a condom, you could tell. The thought made you sick. “You can’t--”

“I can’t--” He rolled you onto your back once more.

He pinned your hips down with his large hands as he raised himself on his needs and rutted into you without restraint. You felt as if your pelvis would snap as his grunts filled the small house. You clung to the pillows around your head and your body constricted in an unexpected and unwanted climax.

“That-- It--” He snarled as his motion turned relentless. “I’m-- gonna-- ugh…”

His voice trailed off and his hips snapped harshly against you as he came. You felt his heat as it coated your walls and he eased himself still as he lowered his body back down to yours. He pecked your lips and you turned your head away.

“Why…” Your voice crackled.

He hummed and nuzzled your cheek. “That was good, wasn’t it?”

“Get off of me,” You sneered. “Steve,” You slapped him and he recoiled. “Off!”

He grunted and pulled out of you as he pushed himself onto his knees. His cum leaked from your cunt as you sat up and he got to his feet. Your entire body tingled and you were shaking. You stood, your legs wobbly, and Steve’s shadow blotted out the bright light the beamed across the space.

“What is that?” You asked as you reached between your legs to wipe the cum smeared on your thighs.

“A keepsake.” The flash on his phone suddenly went out as he tapped the screen. “To look back on.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stomped towards him and reached for his phone. “How could you--”

“Don’t worry,” He held the phone above him. “Sam will never know… unless I want him too.”

“No…” You stared up at his face shrouded in darkness. “How…”

You blinked as tears rose and a hollow chill swept through you. You spun away from him and stumbled to the bathroom. You slammed the door as a sob caught in your throat. The damn thing would stay shut. You punched it as you swallowed back your tears.

You flipped on the light and pushed yourself away from the door and it creaked. You turned the sink on, the cold water numbing as you tried to wash away his cum from your cunt. When you finished, you let the tap run and looked into the mirror. You didn’t look like yourself. You didn’t feel like yourself.

And Steve, he couldn’t have been himself.

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader smut #dark steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers x reader #fic #dark!fic #dark fic #somniphilia #one shot #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #mcu #marvel #captain america

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heyheyloki · 3 years

Text

The Thought Of You

Summary: Not remembering the night before, the reader distances himself from Loki.

Loki x M!Reader

It was always one thing. Perhaps it was Tony and Steve arguing, or maybe Thor bothering Loki, and maybe it was you making fun of the spider boy. Whatever it was, it was exciting for others to watch. However, between all the fighting, Loki and you never did. It was odd to everyone else since they had this deep hatred for the God of Mischief. To you, you didn’t care, you enjoyed Loki’s presence and always knew if you needed a break from the others, you’d go to him. He was always there, even if the two of you started out on a bumpy road since he was hesitant of you when you first came around.

Loki thought you’d be like everyone else, so it wasn’t totally personal. Though, after your many attempts to get to know him, his wall eventually fell around you and then, the bonding started. Everyone around the two of you thought it was weird, after all, Loki was the man who wanted to take over Earth and sent an army onto New York City. Even with that fact, it never seemed to bother you.

Tony Stark always thought something would happen between the two of you, and Thor was more than supportive is it came to be. Steve had some issues since he was close to you as well and just wanted the best for you, and, well, he just didn’t think that ‘best’ was Loki. Nat and Clint seemed indifferent, but were happy with anything you decided. Banner, on the other hand, flipped from Tony and Steve’s perspective at times.

You always told them that Loki and you were just friends, but Loki never seemed to comment on it. In the back of your mind, you knew the god had looks but you cherished the relationship between you and him now. You didn’t need to progress it further since you were quite comfortable where it was. Though, perhaps that was about to change.

After a late night of drinking and dancing courtesy of Tony Stark, you were out for the count. By the time your hung over eyes had opened, you noticed it was almost noon. A groggy groan escaped your chest as you sat up from your rather large bed, again, courtesy of Tony Stark. Your body didn’t even take up half of it, and speaking of your body, when you gazed down at it you noticed your fluffy, grey night robe.

You didn’t exactly remember putting it on, but you didn’t care much. At least, you didn’t care then. When your ears started to work once more, you couldn’t help but notice the sound of your shower running. It was connected to your room and when you gazed towards the door that was shut, the light underneath was shining through.

“What did I drink last night?” You mumbled to yourself as you collapsed back into the bed, your body bouncing a bit.

As your mind tried to figure out what had happened the night before, you heard the shower faucet squeeze close and the water stop it’s pattering. You didn’t bother to look, not that you weren’t curious who you probably slept with last night, but you just didn’t care. It wasn’t common for you to have one-night stands but it wasn’t something you didn’t participate in from time to time.

You could hear the person turn the doorknob before it creaked open, their bare feet stepping across your hardwood tile getting louder as they stepped closer.

“Are you up yet, [Name]?” The stranger asked. Though, that voice wasn’t a stranger to your mind.

Your eyes fluttered open to get a look at a man half naked in your room, the towel around his waist poorly done as if he’d never done it before. The long, black hair he had was wet and textured with like curls. His body had little muscle but his thin figure made up for it, the muscle he did have off subtle lines about his body that was beyond a godly sight.

“Uh, Loki?” You mumbled out, his eyes looking at you as if waiting for you to continue moving your lips.

Though, when you didn’t, he answered with a confused, “Uh, that is my name.”

“Right, right.” You uttered, his words snapping you out of your mind. Without even a second thought, you hopped out of your bed. You quickly tied up your night robe since you didn’t seem to be wearing anything underneath except for a pair of boxers. “I’m, uh, gonna go talk to Tony.”

“Stark?” Loki questioned. “Why?”

“Oh, yanno, Avenger stuff.” You chuckled out as you slowly began to inch for the exit.

“I can occupy you, if you wish.”

“No!” You screamed. Your voice startling both you and him. You cleared your throat to quickly say, “I think he wants to do a few tests on me. You know how those are, very private. I’ll see you later, ya? Okay, bye!”

Your hand reached around for the door handle and slipped yourself into the hallway before slamming the door shut behind you. Your back soon going against it as you took in deep breaths. It could have been anyone else, anyone in the damn place and you would have been fine. But, Loki? Why did it have to be him that your drunken self choose?

“I’m so gonna get shit for this,” You uttered as you began to travel down the hallway towards the main area of the building.

“Morning, [Name].” Nat said as she and Clint sat on the couch watching movies.

You nodded in her direction before shuffling into the kitchen. You needed something cold, or hot. No in between for this one. As you were pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you heard footsteps make way towards you.

“What’s up with you?” You heard. Your eyes gazing over at Nat who stared at you with crossed arms.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she started out saying. Her body slowly making way towards yours. “Normally, every morning, you say good morning back. You never give a simple nod. So, what’s wrong with you?”

Your eyes blinked rapidly for a moment before letting out a sigh. You knew there was no way for you to get out of this one, but than again you didn’t want her to spill anything to Steve, Banner, or Clint. So, you gave a half lie.

“Just not to happy with who I found in my bed this morning.” You laughed off. “Nothing to worry about.”

Nat stared, her eyes moving up and down before giving a simple, “Okay. Just make sure whoever the mystery man is is out before Tony comes back.”

“He’s not here?”

“Nope. He went out for a bit, but he’ll be back soon.” Nat explained.

You nodded before grabbing your coffee and heading out. You weren’t sure where to go. You wanted to go back in your room, but you didn’t know if Loki was still there. You wanted to go sit in the living room, but you didn’t want questions from the others. So, you choose the next best thing. Wonder about the halls. It wasn’t as bad as you thought, in fact, it was quite therapeutic when gazing out at the birds that flew about. You seriously thought you’d get a break, well, that was until you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned around, the soft smile on your lips dropping, your body grew hot at the God of Mischief that stared back.

“Are you alright?” Loki questioned. “You seem.. off.”

“Wha, um, what?” You asked, your throat going dry as your mind thought about what could have transpired the night before. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Loki tilted his head as he eyed you up and down. You noticed every single, tiny detail about him to the point were you noticed the small flicker of his eyes, the tiny redness of the tips of ears. Not to mention the explosive feeling when his hand came to rest on your lower back way too casually.

You quickly grabbed his wrist, your grip tight but not tight enough for Loki to notice a difference. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” He questioned. For he first time since you’ve met him, he sounded completely innocent. “Would you like me to take you back your quarters? You look rather flushed, are you sick?”

“N-No, I’m not sick.” You stuttered out as you pushed his hand off of your body. The lingering effects causing your mind to turn foggy, it was the first time in a while that you felt such an effect from a simple touch of another. “I’ll go to my room by myself.”

“I don’t mind the trouble, really, allow me to occupy you.” Loki stated. His body ready to move right along side yours.

“No, seriously.” You stated as your hand came straight flush against his chest. The moment it hit, your words ceased to exist. It felt odd, to fell his heartbeat. You never thought in your lifetime would you be able to feel it, much less this clearly. Though, something was off with it cause you swore for a single second that you felt it skip a beat.

“I, um,” you hummed out as you placed your hand back at your side. “I’ll go by myself.”

When you turned away from the God of Mischief, it was like your entire body became cold. The feeling of him slowly slipping away from your presence was almost the worst feeling you’ve ever experienced before. It was like moving away towards the perfect, most handsome looking sun you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

When your back fell into the bed, it was like everything you were feeling hit you at once. All the things you kept towards the back of your mind came to the front, center stage. All these questions entered your mind.

What did you say to Loki while drunk?

You know he isn’t effected by Midgardian liquor, so, he was completely sober. If so, did he take advantage of your drunk state?

Sure, he was Loki and tried to take over Earth at one point. But you wouldn’t call him evil, at worse you’d give him the ‘bad boy’ label.

Did you really sleep with him?

“Shit,” you grumbled to yourself as you began to bite down on your bottom lip. You knew you had some kind of feelings for Loki, and yes you shut them down as quick as they came for obvious reasons, but you didn’t want everything to come undone just from some liquor. If anything, you at least wanted to tell him at the right time when you were sober.

Turning on your side, you pressing your knees into your chest. It really was nagging, this unknown feeling. You knew the only way you were going to get answers was from Loki himself. However, the thought of that was too much. It was like you were ripping off a bandage that you had just placed on. You were frightened that when it came undone, the painful ripping would completely tear away at what relationship was already there.

“Sir,” Jarvis called out. This wasn’t uncommon since Tony had made sure to install Jarvis in every aspect of this place. “Dinner is ready. Everyone is waiting on you.”

“Okay, thank you.” You hummed out as you gathered yourself before heading out once more. Was it too much for you to be left alone today?

When you made your appearance at the large set table, everyone finally began to eat. Steve made it top priority that everyone must be present before eating, for some reason unknown to Tony and you.

You were seated next to Tony and Thor, Loki sat across from you with Natasha and Steve on either side of him. The food that was presented to you was a simple meal. Take-out. You knew everyone had kitchen duty at least once a week, so you began to believe it was Tony’s week thanks to this being the third time take out was for dinner. Though, you were impressed how he managed to make simple take out so impressively set out like it was from a five-star restaurant.

“How was everyone’s morning?” Steve asked politely. This was routine.

“Fine, just woke up with a massive hangover.” Tony said with a funny-looking smirk that made most of the people sitting around him laugh in amusement.

“Same.” Natasha said. “Remind me never to drink at your parties.”

“Eh, it was still fun. Even if I don’t remember most of it.” You commented. Your eyes going off on their own for a moment before connecting with Loki. Except, his eyes were already on you. With no expression on his face and this certain look in his eyes while staring, it made you zip your mouth quickly. Your eyes darting back down towards your food.

Loki raised a brow quizzically before his attention was brought back to Natasha when she asked you, “Did you manage to get the mystery man out of your bed?”

“What?” You flinched, your hand even lost hold of the fork. The noise it created as it rang the glass plate caught more attention than Natasha’s comment.

“You okay, [Name]?” Steve asked with a curious look.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You questioned back. If they didn’t know you, they’d drop it. However, they did know you.

“Is it someone we know?” Tony asked with a sly smirk. The look he gave made something turn uncomfortably in your stomach. “Or, maybe the same guy from last time?”

“No,” You lied. “He was a stranger.”

“That is quite exciting.” Thor chuckled as he tried to learn more about the human customs of ‘one night stands’. Something he, for some reason, doesn’t know.

“It really isn’t, but thanks.” You reassured.

“I would disagree.” Tony commented. “I think they’re rather.. thrilling.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to eat once more. Your eyes desperate for another peak at the man across from you. In the back of your mind, you told yourself no. It wasn’t worth it. Just ignore him. Though, your body denied itself to listen to your brain and gave into the desire. In that moment, everything froze. For some unknown reason, it was like everyone else in the room disappeared. The only ones left where Loki and yourself. That look in his eyes, the way his hand held up his head. Everything told you this was a dangerous game you were playing.

“[Name]?” Thor asked, his voice pulling you out of the void and back to reality. “Are you going to eat that?”

“What?” You mumbled before gazing down at the food that you haven’t eaten yet. You shook your head before pushing the plate towards the God of Thunder.

“You sure? You didn’t eat much.” Steve asked, his eyes growing to big puppy eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah, I’m not that hungry anyway.” You waved off. Your body soon standing up from your chair as you dismissed yourself from the others.

You didn’t bother to wait around for good nights or goodbyes from the others. Your feet aimlessly moved around until you rounded the corner. The quick footsteps that grew closer to you the furthest thing from your mind. So, when you felt your body get pressed into the wall, you couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp. Your mouth quickly getting covered by a rough, large hand.

Your eyes quickly began to analyze everything in front of you. Your mind processing the face and body that belonged to Loki, the hand that pressed against your mouth his. He eyed you down for what felt like a decade, that was until he broke it to gaze down the hall for any incoming Avengers. When he didn’t see anyone, he slowly released his hand from your face but still kept you pinned to the wall.

“What are you doing?” He asked, his question rough and demanding of answers.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Dont play dumb with me.” He hissed out. “You’ve been avoiding me all day, what is wrong with you?”

“I’m not avoiding you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

Loki huffed, his patience wearing thin. “Then why did you run away this morning? Or when I saw you earlier, and how do you explain not even capable of holding eye contact with me at supper?”

“That was nothing.” You mumbled out, your head turning to the left and down so you didn’t have to look at him. Though, you suppose that was pointless.

His hand was quick to grab onto your chin to make you face him once more. “Don’t look away from me.”

You could feel your body temperature rise, the feeling brutal to the point were you had to bend your leg a bit and tap your fingers just to calm yourself a bit. Everything in your mind ran so quickly that you began to believe you would have a malfunction up there. Though, instead of a malfunction you ended up just blurting out, “Did we sleep together?”

You watched as nothing but pure confusion twisted in Loki’s face. You weren’t positive yet if that was good or bad, but something deep within your stomach told you not to make any false moves. Not to assume anything until you hear his words.

“Would that really be so bad?” He asked, his voice low.

“I don’t mean it like that.” You corrected. “I’m just asking cause I don’t remember anything from last night and when I wake up you were in my shower.”

Loki sighed, his body taking a step back to allow yours to breathe. “No, we didn’t.”

You wanted to desperately to let out a sign of relief. However, you were smart enough to read the look on his face and know this wasn’t the right time for that.

“Then, why were you there?” You asked.

Loki sighed, his eyes making contact with yours before beginning to explain. “I took you back to your room since you were probably more drunk than Stark. I didn’t mean to upset you if I have, I just thought it would be best to keep an eye on you until you fell asleep. I suppose at some point I did as well.”

“So, you took care of me.” You stated as you took an unconscious step closer.

“I suppose so, yes.” He said. “Was that wrong of me to do?”

“No, no.” You ushered out quickly. “That was fine. I’m glad you it was you.”

“You are?” He asked, his eyes staring into yours.

You nodded. Another step closer taken. Both pair of eyes danced with the other as each of you stared at the other. It was this moment of silence that you appreciated the most, cherished the most. It was an intoxicating feeling to sit in silence with Loki, to allow no sound of voice to flow between the both of you. The way your heart beat so intensity, the thoughts that crawled out that always made a shiver go up your spine, well, it was nothing but pure ecstasy.

“Come to my room.” You blurted out, the afterthought not even in question. You meant what you said, and Loki could see that as well by his silence nod and questionless lips.

As the two of your traveled, Loki following behind you in silence, your heart began to pound faster. The wonder of what would come to pass filling in your veins and by the time you came upon your room, you didn’t waste time to lock your door just in case.

“I want you to know something.” You said as you sat down next to Loki on the edge of your bed.

“What is it?” He questioned, his eyes never leaving yours for a second. After all, that would be too long for him.

“I wasn’t in regret or anything, I just wanted to know the truth.” You stated clearly. “If I ever did that with you, I rather remember the time clearly.”

You noticed the adam’s apple in Loki’s throat bob quickly after your words. The way his eyes now going frantic about your body without shame made your hand grip onto your pants. It was a new feeling, but one you enjoyed. Having him look at you felt nothing like anyone else in the past had done, when it was him and only him, you felt like he was looking at the stars.

“Allow me to be frank?” He asked, his question answered with a simple nod.

When Loki leaned in, he stabilized himself by moving one of his hands on top of yours, his fingers snaking in between the spaces in your hand. You felt him grip a bit harder, in a relaxing way before speaking his mind.

“I find myself thinking of you even at the most.. inopportune moments of the day. I feel as if a link exists between your heart and mine and should that link be broken either by distance or by time, my heart would cease to be and I would die.” Loki freely spoke. His voice soft, and low as he spoke so that only you would hear this side of him even if no other soul was nearby to hear. “And you.. you’d soon forget about me.”

You leaned your head, a plethora of emotions washing over you at once. Though, you needed to address this one thing as if life and death hanged in the balance. Your body scooted closer to the God, your hand that connected with his now placed on your lap before saying, “Loki. I’d never forget about you.”

The God let out a dry chuckle. “I acknowledge that. I just suppose that’s my fear speaking.”

“If we’re being so open, I’d like to say something as well.” You said, his eyes looking at you with such patience that you’ve never found before. “You make me feel.. you make me feel vulnerable. Every time your eyes meet mine I can feel you looking at my very soul, and I don’t like it. Do you know?”

“Do I know.. what?”

You smiled softly, your hand squeezing Loki’s as you ask, “Do you know what it’s like around you? It’s like.. It’s like I can’t breathe when you’re around and everything stops. When everything stops, I can only focus on you.”

You’ve never really seen Loki smile, but he had granted you the privilege of seeing a few times. However, you instantly knew this kind of smile, the soft and sweet kind he directed towards you was your favorite yet. Sure, the causally smirk or smile was nice, but this one was for you and you alone.

And you loved it.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff #loki x reader #loki odison x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x male reader #loki x male reader #loki odinson x male reader #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #male reader #x male reader

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elias-code · 3 years

Text

Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice I

Choose your own adventure ~ “Die With Memories, not Dreams“

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza

Summary: You decide to let Techno sleep with you. He spoons you, keeping you warm, and you dream about him… You wake up in the morning to him preparing your room. When you get downstairs, you notice him hiding a hard-on, and you both decide to deal with it the rough way.

Warnings: Cussing, praise kink, rough sex NSFW!! MINORS DNI

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO

~Recap~

I could feel my blood rush to my face as they asked if I’d sleep with them. I turned to the fireplace and lit the fire, trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Only if you’re ok with it,” I said.

They paused and my heartbeat harder, unsure what they were going to say. I started preparing the fire, putting the hesitation out of my mind.

~Recap Complete~

— The Bird —

Techno is so cute when he’s trying to hide his shame. As if he should be ashamed of offering to sleep with me. It didn’t need to mean anything, but it obviously did to him. Never one to pass up and opportunity to make fun of him, I took the bait.

“Please, that fire is not going to be enough,” I cuddled up into the cloak, looking bashfully at him, “I need some body heat, pig boy.”

“Is it really that cold in here?” His voice was slightly shaky.

“Yeah, and I promise I won’t try to fuck you,” I said, “Unless you want to, of course,”

He stopped, not looking up. I could tell his face was burning because his ears were bright red, a sure sign of embarrassment. I hit the right nerve, and I watched eagerly to see what he did next.

“Let’s take a raincheck,” he said, “but if that’s what dates do then I’m down.”

I turned his words over in your head, half dumb-struck, half… well…

“I’m joking, Bird,” He says, his blush is gone, replaced by a victorious smile, “And I think you were, too,”

“What makes you think that?” I said innocently.

“Shut up and get dressed,” He squinted at me and shook his head, “I’ll be back up in a few.”

With that, he left. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand, my hands getting clammy. His cape around me felt heavy as if he were there holding me. I shook the thought out of my head, ignoring the sudden arousal stirring inside of me.

Bracing for the cold, I shucked his cape off and then the rest of my clothes. Part of me silently hoped he’d walk in on me undressing, see me there and… no. I slipped on a pair of comfy pants and a soft shirt. Even if Techno wanted to, he would never say it, and it’s too hard to read him to risk bringing it up.

I draped his cape across the back of a chair and scurried under a pile of woven blankets and furs on the bed. It was still cold, but I ignored my goosebumps and shut my eyes.

— Techno —

By the time I had gotten upstairs, it looked like they were already asleep. I thought about leaving them there, deep in slumber, and going downstairs to sleep on the couch, but when I touched their neck, my hand froze. They were incredibly cold and still shivering. Thank god the banquet isn’t supposed to take place here, I think they’d freeze to death.

I wriggled under the blanket, heart pounding. They were cold to the touch all over, but I held them close to me anyway. Slowly, I tucked my leg in between theirs to warm their legs. I wrapped my arms around them and held them close to my chest, quickly realizing they were still awake.

“Mmm, Techno,” They mumbled.

“What?”

“You’re so warm,” they quietly laughed, “like a radiator.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“So you’re cute and hot, huh?” They teased. I blushed again, this time not hiding it. There was no chance I’d be able to hide that and my arousal at the same time, and one was obviously more important.

I did not want them freaking out if they realized I was hard, so I shoved those feelings deep down somewhere in an attempt to forget about it.

Soon, my eyelids grew heavy, and Bird was asleep in my arms.

— The Bird’s dream —

He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way that I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.

“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”

“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”

“If only they knew. Tsk.”

Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.

“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” A voice boomed, echoing in my mind.

I’m below him, he’s thrusting into me in a white space, the voice was gone and there was no sound except for the quiet moans escaping his lips.

— The Bird —

I gasped, suddenly wide awake. Techno wakes, breathing into me. I’m back in his bed, the man behind me was stirring, opening his eyes. His arms were wrapped around me, pressing my back against his chest, his leg was between mine.

“Bird,” He whispers.

I shifted so I faced him, burying my face into his chest, which I realized was bare. He pulled me closer, softly squeezing me.

“Sorry, go back to sleep,” I said. He was already sleeping

— Techno —

The sun was in my eyes, making my vision red before I even opened my eyes. I was holding them in my arms, they silently snored, unaware I was awake. The curtains had been left open and sunlight spilt into the room in an orange glow. The fire had gone out sometime last night and the stale air was cold in my nose.

I kissed them on the forehead, reluctantly letting them go and standing up. I carefully shut the curtains and lit the fire. When I looked back at the bed, they were watching me, smiling.

“Good morning,” I said.

“G’morn’n” they muttered, still half asleep.

This was a strange feeling. Everything was right in the world, the gods were finally smiling down at me. Fuck, they’re so cute.

I picked myself up, moving to open the furthest curtains slightly to allow them to get up if they wanted. In what would be a small gesture for most people, I put their clothes for today out on the chair, where they’d left my cape.

I lifted it up, pulling it close to my face to free the end from the top of the chair. It smelled like them, even though they’d only been wearing it for a few minutes.

I trot down the stairs, leaving them to awaken alone. I hung my cape on its stand and went to the kitchen. I grabbed some bread and tore a chunk out of it, absentmindedly chewing.

We know what you want, Techno. They know, too. They want it, you want it, so what’s stopping you? Huh? Oh, and you can feel that?! It’s lust, Techno. I know you know who it’s for. I cursed at the voices to shut it, I’d had enough teasing for today. I didn’t need to be enticed further, just being around them was enough.

The floor creaked above me, meaning they’d gotten up for the day. I tried to take deep breaths to slow my heartbeat, but I couldn’t stop the hard-on I was getting. What are you gonna do now, big boy? They’re gonna see you biting back an erection in the kitchen. You’re going to scare them away. You’re going to put them on their knees-

Their face peeked around the stair entrance, searching for me. I composed myself as best I could. They nodded at me and rushed down the stairs, still dressed in the clothes from last night.

Their hair was a bird’s nest, fitting. Their shirt was half-tucked into their pants, which hugged their form and cut just before the ankles. Their bare feet were playfully pattering towards me.

“Like what you see?” They asked.

I cleared my throat and swallowed the bread, “I left clothes for you on the chair if you want to change.”

“You’re not changed,” they poked my chest, eying my abs, “You’re being a hypocrite.”

“Am not,” I was. “You’re going to freeze in that, I’m fine as I am.”

“That’s why you’re here, remember?”

The blush was too fast to hide. Thankfully, they’d already looked away and at the bread in my hand.

“Can I have it?” They asked as they plucked it from my hands, not waiting for a response.

“Um, you already do…” The voices were picking up again, shoving themselves into the front of my mind. You want them to devour you like that, don’t you? You want to feed them something more… substantial.

“Shut-“ I said.

They paused, “What?” Their mouth was stuffed with bread and my mind raced. I could fit in there, and it would be so nice, tight, wet…

“It’s nothing. I need to get dressed if you’re not going to,” My dick pulsed, begging for release. I knew I liked them, but this was new. Last night, I couldn’t help but imagine what it’d be like to fuck them. They’re so small compared to me. I’d fit in so nicely.

“No, stay.” They demanded.

I was already heading for the stairs, and I didn’t face them, knowing the tent in my pants was a dead giveaway. “Why? What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll suck your dick.” They said. It was a bit too honest and my face burned, my mind pleading for me to flip them over and destroy their innocence.

“Bet,” I said, or rather, the voices said through me. Regret rushed through me as their footsteps approached.

“As if I didn’t notice, Technoblade,” They said, now in front of me. My shame was palpable. “I felt it last night, and I saw it this morning. You are so adorable.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just looked at them blankly.

“I’m being serious,” They said, crossing their arms, “I need to destress and honestly, I haven’t been fucked in a long time, so just let me know. The offer’s open.”

They began to walk away, taking my blank stare as disinterest. I grabbed their arm, holding them in place. I looked them in the eye, glimmering in the morning light, the last bits of dusk were barely visible in their pupils. Their lips parted partially as their eyes met mine. Do it, I know you want to.

“I do,” I said, out loud. My thoughts were getting a little too audible.

“You do… what?”

I grabbed their face and kissed them harshly.

— The Bird —

When I first saw Techno cleaning upstairs, I was enthralled in his form. He looked lean with his shirts on, like an emaciated cow. With it off, I could see the curves of his muscles, how they flexed when he picked something up.

He was also covered in scars. They were lighter than his normal skin tone, and they were raised slightly. Some of them looked older than others, and I couldn’t help but imagine him telling the stories behind each and every one.

As I woke up more and my eyes adjusted to the light, I also noticed his bulge, which I was desperate to unsee. The dream from last night was fuzzy, but my pants were still damp from it. I remember him over me, letting me have it and-

“Good morning,” He said.

I barely mumbled a reply, silently running scenarios through my mind. He could slip back into bed and destroy me. I would be screaming his name in minutes. The tent in his pants was nothing less than an invitation.

“You do… what?”

He grabbed my face and pushed his lips onto mine. I moaned slightly into it, knowing it would put a sizable dent in the walls he’d put up around his heart.

He pulled back, “I can… can you?” He couldn’t even form full sentences. It’s almost like he was in heat.

I pushed him lightly against the wall and got on my knees. Fuck, am I really doing this? He’s my best friend, does he even care about me? Am I doing this just to have it ruin the banquet? Our relationship is going to go off the fucking rails if I do this.

I was already putting my hand on his dick. I could feel the precum soak through the fabric. I rubbed its head, putting my other hand in his pants to get a real grip on it.

“Is this ok?” I had to ask. There’s no dignity in assuming.

“Yes,” he growled, pushing my hand down into his pants, “Just… oh gods-“

I put my hand around his dick, my fingers couldn’t even touch, that’s how thick it was. It was not going to fit all the way in my mouth. It’d be like trying to eat a fence post, but I wouldn’t let that stop me.

I put my thumb on the tip, rubbing the precum on the head, then licking my fingers, tasting his lust for me. Sizing it up, I licked the tip, then kissed it, trying to test my limits. Each time I touched a new area, he would quiver slightly. Had he ever even fucked anyone before? That was a nice thought… I’d take his virginity.

I tucked my teeth behind my lips and took the head of his dick into my mouth. I sucked slightly, relishing at the moment.

“Please…” He begged for me to take it deeper. I obliged, pushing my mouth further down the shaft, feeling the veins and curves with my tongue, sending him spiralling. For a man who’s killed entire countries, he was incredibly sensitive.

I started to bob my head on his dick. His hand flew to my head, grabbing my hair by the roots. He followed my lead and stayed still, breathing heavily as I got further down the shaft, close to the base.

Instead of waiting, he took it upon himself to thrust into my mouth and down my throat. I gagged hard, my eyes tearing up from the pressure. He slowed but did not fail to push himself deep into my throat over and over again.

He pulled out, panting. “Techno…” I moaned. I was starting to sit in a pool of slick, my body preparing for his entrance. I could feel my insides tense up and release over and over, gripping around nothing, desperate for his dick.

“Fuck me, Techno…” I muttered.

He picked me up from the waist, his dick still hard and pulsing. He carried me to the couch and flipped me onto my stomach, facing away from him. My legs hung off the end of the couch, spread to allow for easy access. I could hear my own heartbeat. I’d never had anyone inside of me, and he was a scary first-time.

“Go easy, Tech,” I said.

“I can’t make any promises,” He said, adding, “But if it’s too much, tell me to stop.”

He grabbed me by the hips, positioning himself behind me. The head of his dick was pressed to my hole, his hands digging into my sides, preparing for penetration.

I was soaking wet by now, practically dripping onto the carpet. Thank gods I was because he pushed in without warning.

“F-FUCK,” I screamed, the moans no longer being held back.

“Shh, Phil will hear you,” He whispered in my ear.

He pulled out and thrust in again. This time pleasure outweighed the pain. My insides were making room for his enormous penis. My walls gripped around him, trying to milk the cum out of him.

Now he started a rhythm, the sounds of skin slapping against skin was loud enough that Phil could definitely hear it. Techno was not going easy on me.

He pounded into me, rearranging my insides. Every thrust was met with an accompanying moan escaping from my mouth, loud and unrelenting. I held onto the couch for dear life and prayed to the gods I’d make it out of this able to walk.

My core tightened, signalling what was to come. He leaned over, his chest on my back like we were in bed, and he whispered praise into my ear.

“You’re so tight, ugh”, “You’re doing so well,”, “I’m gonna cum into you”, “I’m gonna make you quiver and scream in ecstasy, baby”, “be a good bird and cum for me, huh?”

He was so close, and I was close behind. His thrusts lost rhythm as he lost his sense of words. They became spastic, spaced randomly, going down to the base every time. His moans and grunts were getting louder and my moans had turned into whines.

I felt my eyes water as the pressure in my gut built. He thrust in hard a few more times, sending me over the edge.

“Techno, ah, fuck… AAAAH!” I screamed. My legs shook as my body tensed up, squeezing his dick inside of me, he pulled out and pushed back in again as I shuttered under him.

“I’m - ‘m gonna,” he stuttered. He shoved himself all the way in, pushing everything inside of me out of the way. I felt the liquid fill me up, his cum hitting my walls and making me shake uncontrollably. He held my hand as I continued to moan and whine, overstimulated from his load.

“Holy… shit,” He huffed.

“T-Techno,” He was still inside of me, shooting another rope of cum into me.

“Fu-uck.”

My orgasm ended with a final squeeze, leaving me to quiver below him as he came. Eventually, he pulled out. I felt empty but more full than I was before he went in. His cum was still sloshing around inside of me. I rolled over to look at him, our cum dripping out of me. He looked at me, no, through me. It was the face he made when he was thinking about the future, when he was testing his possibilities.

“Techno, I-“ I whined, still sensitive.

“This stays between us alone, alright?” He breathed.

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I said.

He laughed, now finally looking at me properly. I smiled and laughed back, just basking in the ridiculousness of what just happened. Part of me wished he picked me up and put me back on him. Another part of me wished I’d somehow end up carrying his children. The rational part of me was worried he’d shove this memory so far down that he’d forget about it completely. I wouldn’t let that happen.

— Philza —

“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin. The couch was a mess like someone had tipped it over and roughly put everything back in place. Oddly, nothing else was awry, and Techno was in the kitchen, making eggs like nothing ever happened.

The bird smiled at me, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.

“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was dishevelled, to say the least.

“What was all that screaming about? Did a creeper almost explode in here or something?”

Techno’s ears pinked, the bird responded, “No, Techno just scared me. I woke up and I just saw this silhouette standing over the bed. Apparently, he was not a demon, and I startled him more than I think he did me.”

“Jesus, you have to stop standing creepily in people’s peripheral, Techno.” I laughed.

“Yeah, I didn’t even know they were awake. They were completely hidden under the pile of blankets.” Techno responded, not looking back at me. I detected a hint of deceit but brushed it off.

“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.

“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.

“What’s the dress code?”

“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”

They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flowy things were not as easy.

/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION BRRRRRRRRRR ///

Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)

Dress

Tux-dress

Tuxedo

#techno x reader #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #technoblade x reader #technoblade #choose your own adventure #two left hooves #mcyt x reader #mcyt #dsmp #dsmp x reader

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blownbybakugou · 3 years

Text

Office Hours

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader

warnings: CEO!Shouto AU, FEM! Anatomy, breeding kink, hair pulling, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex, praise kink, slight voyeurism.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/n: Took me all day to write, I even pulled an all nighter because the ideas were swarming inside of my head. So I was just chilling at two am with Rick and Morty on, typing away. Probably disturbing my neighbors and my roommate, but whatever.

This day had been mildly annoying. Your new coworker had claimed to have been sleeping with your boss, saying she would have you fired by giving him a blowjob, and then continued to shred the paperwork you had worked on all week. You were in near tears from the stressful events of this week, and everyone, including the bitch could see that if anything else went wrong, you would snap. You could clearly hear the annoying pitter-patter of the horrid woman's shoes against the black marble heading towards your cubicle, making you groan in exasperation. "What do you want, Neca?" You sigh, your bloodshot eyes glaring at her smug face. "I have to leave early, so you'll have my work" Your eye twitched. The audacity this lady had was getting on your last nerve. "I'm not doing your work after you shredded mine, especially if you'll get the credit. Now leave. I'm trying to finish my work so I can go home." You look back down to your work, but your head is suddenly yanked back up by your hair. "Go home to what, exactly? You're single, you have no kids and no pets. You can put in the extra hours, and you don't need the extra money. So stop being a bitch, and get over it. I have a date with the boss, so I'll be leaving now" Neca slams down a fresh stack of papers for you to revise and categorize and walks over to the elevator, leaving you here to deal with her work. You looked at the clock on your desk, seeing that in only two hours it would be midnight. Era, too late for you to be at work. You yawn and take your pencil back in your hand to begin your reviewing, already dreading the outcome of this night.

At around 11:30, you got up to go to the breakroom for a new cup of coffee, and you swore you could feel your eyebags darkening by the second. Everyone had left at about 11:00, which left you here completely by yourself. Even the janitor had checked out for the night, handing you the building keys and telling you to lock up when you go home. You take a big swig of the luke-warm beverage, praying to the gods that you would finish your work faster so you could get some sleep. You look out the break-room window at the 12-inch stack of documents you had to look over, realizing you'd be lucky if you got to leave at 3:00. You gulp down half of the coffee, toss the empty disposable cup into the trash bin, and tread back to your personal hellhole. You were concentrating as hard as you could, but even when you were zoned out, you could clearly hear the sound of the elevator going up, and stopping at your floor. Your eyes widen, looking over to the clock that read 1:00 am and then trying to think of who would be here this late but only came up with fear and panic. You shake wildly as you watch the polished silver doors slide open slowly, and then you see the expensive leather shoes step out. Your breath hitched. You were somehow more afraid than before, seeing your boss look over to you, and begin to walk over. He stopped in front of your chair, looking down on you with suspicion and confusion in his eyes. "What are you doing here so late, L/n?" Your throat quickly becomes dry, making it harder to speak. "I, um, p-paperwork." You attempt to explain, pointing to the now 10-inch tall pile with a quivering finger. "I didn't give you that much, who's work is that?" His deep voice asked. "Neca's, Mr. Todoroki. She said you guys had a date and asked me to finish up her paperwork. I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you." You explain, regaining your once lost composure. "We did not have a date. What happened here, is that she played you." Your brows furrow in frustration. So the hours you put in were for absolutely nothing? The fear of getting fired, the times she left because of the 'bosses demands', were all fake? "I...I'll finish it anyway, Mr. Todoroki. I promise I won't take too long." You mumble, turning back to the documents with clenched teeth. "No, I will call her right now. If she is going to rearrange your sleep schedule, I will rearrange hers." our heart warms at his kindness, as you thank him for his generosity. Todoroki pulls out an expensive-looking phone, scrolling for a while before holding it out, and putting it on speaker. On the second ring, Neca picks up. "Yes, Mr.Todoroki? Do you need me to come over or...?" She seemed insistent on wanting to come over to his home, but your boss shuts her down rapidly. "No. After many, many complaints and reports from the other employees, it has come to my attention that you have been passing your work onto Y/n L/n, as well as destroying the companies sacred files. I have called to confirm these suspicions." You both could hear shuffling on the other end on the line, and then you heard the buttered up voice speak. "Did Y/n tell you this? I didn't want you to find out this way, but Y/n has been skipping out on work and burning the company files. I didn't tell you because Y/n is such a dear friend to me and I didn't want her to get fired." Her obnoxiously fake sympathetic voice made you want to gag in disgust. The faux voice was way too sweet for her contrasting personality and the word 'friends' left a bitter taste in your mouth. "Oh? Well, if that's true then I have some interesting news. I'm at the office right now, looking at Y/n who has an 11-inch stack of papers that I certainly did not give to her. And by looking at one of the documents," Todoroki picks up one of the stapled worksheets and flips through it briefly before continuing. "These look like the oriented reference materials I asked you to finish before you left. Now, if you do not come to the office right now to complete your and Y/n's workload, I will fire you, and ruin all future opportunities for you to get a job. Am I clear?" The line goes silent, but then you hear a light sobbing sound accompanying a meek 'yes, boss'. He hung up and then gestured you into his workroom, silently closing the door behind him. "L/n, how long has this been going on for?" Todoroki asked calmly, sitting down in his exquisite black leather chair. "A week after she came here, sir." When you added the sir on the end, he seemed to flinch, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. "I see. Why didn't you inform me of this?" You take notice of how he had crossed his legs. It was almost as if he were trying to hide something from you, and that fact made you internally grin. "She said she was your lover, sir, and I didn't want to be fired for claiming against her." The CEO glares at you, warning you to not step further into this. "I can happily say that we are not in a relationship, nor are we participating in any...fun, activities." A playful glint flashes in your captivating orbs, seizing the boss's attention. "I am glad to hear that sir. Shall I take my leave then?" Todoroki's jaw stiffens, and his eyes darken. "Only if you want to. But I believe it to be bad to drive when tired, you could always sleep here, for convenience reasons." You wanted to agree. But you knew that Neca would arrive here shortly, and if you slept here, she would surely do something to get back at your tattling. "I'm not very tired, sir." You remark, standing to make an emphasis. Todoroki stands as well, showing off his delicious-looking bulge forming in his black slacks. "Oh really?" He walks around his desk, eyeing you like a predator would its prey. "Is there a problem, sir?" You ask, a smirk present in your expression. "No, but I think that I'll have to make you tired. You know, for convenience reasons." His face was a mere inch from yours, his breath gently fanning your face. He finally took initiative and grabbed the back of your neck to bring you into an electrifying kiss that made every nerve in your body tingle. You were swiftly flipped around and sat on his desk, your legs wrapped around his torso as he hungrily forced his tongue onto yours. They slid across each other in unison, sending hot flashes throughout both of your bodies at the amazing contact. "Mr.Todoroki, Neca will-" "What happened to sir?" Todoroki purred, sliding his warm hands up your blouse and playing with the hem of your bra. You start softly panting as they glide to your back, fiddling with the clasp. "S-Sir, Neca will be here any min-" "Stop being a brat, I'll deal with her when she gets here. But I think you should deal with the problem you made." Todoroki unbuttons his trousers, stripping himself of them before placing your hand on his clothed cock. "Why don't you get to work, and I might reward you with a bonus." You pushed down his black boxers, almost drooling when you see the length and girth of his dick. It was almost unreal, it couldn't be. He was huge and heavy. Even with him being fully erect his cock drooped and hung right above your mouth. You were starting to even wonder if he could fit inside of you. Todoroki was staring at you expectantly, so you carefully lifted your chin to take the head into your mouth and looked up at him with big, doe eyes. A subtle grunt is produced from your actions and you decide to take it a step further. You guide his dick down your throat, feeling his width stretch out the walls of your windpipe and block your source of oxygen. You pull back, watching as strings of your salvia extend from his cock to your mouth, a low groan emitting from your boss at the sight. You take him back in, this time moaning around him for added effect and enjoying how his hands thread their way into your hair a glide you along his impressive dick. It was then that you began to hear the familiar sound of the elevator opening, and the annoying pitter-patter of shoes you have learned to hate. It seemed that Todoroki heard it too, but he only pushed you down deeper and leered at the way you gagged and squirmed. The clicking of Neca's shoes came to a halt as she shoved the door open with such haste you were surprised it didn't break. "Mr. Todoroki, please forgive me, I promise it won't happen again-" Your watery eyes open to give her a petty glare, releasing another moan around your boss so she could watch the way his eyes roll back in pure and utter pleasure at the vibrations you gave off. Neca's face turned a bright red at your bold decision and let out a high-pitched huff of anger. The irony of this situation was so satisfying. You flipped her off, making her storm out of the room, still enraged. That was until your boss yelled something to her "Neca, you still have to finish the documents you passed onto Y/n." You got no response, but you honestly didn't care at this point. She could hear you guys going at it like animals if she wanted to, but as far as you're concerned, she doesn't exist. You were yanked up and you look down to see that his cock was completely covered in your spit. "I think you deserve a reward, baby." You were forced onto the desk chest first, your skirt flipping up making your panties on display for him to see. "I bet you have the cutest little cunt under these thin panties." He pressed two fingers against the damp fabric, swiping against your clothed slit before getting fed up and tearing them off. Todoroki kneeled, blowing cool air onto your soaked pussy and watching as you try to push your hips back onto his face. Your hole was clenching around nothing and it was practically driving Shouto against the wall. He got back up, stroking himself a few times before poking at your hole with his tip. He leaned his head into your ear with his chest pressed against your back, his breath making your heart race faster. "I'm going to fucking ruin you." He pushed himself in halfway, rocking his hips in a steady motion and chuckling at your small pathetic moans. "I'm not even all the way in and you're whining. Do you even want my dick?" You nod vigorously, trying to move backward to sheath the rest into your weeping cunt. "You want it all in? Use your words, pretty girl." He prolongs his movements and observes that way you try to fuck yourself on his cock, your orbs starting to form more tears from the lack of stimulation. "Please sir, I want to be stuffed full by your big cock." You whimper, letting his hand grasp at your strands of hair once more. Growling, he shoves the rest of his awaiting member inside of you, basking in the way your walls fluttered and twitched from the intrusion. "Good girl. Now let me use you the way I want to, little thing." He starts rapidly pounding into you, with your poor cervix being mercilessly rammed against in the process. "How's it feel getting railed like this, huh? You know, I could really use an heir to the company." Your pants began to mix with your moans, and you could tell your orgasm was coming on strong. You couldn't even warn Todoroki because right as you were about to tell him, you felt him nudge that special spot that made you see stars. And after that, you had no choice but to release. You expected Shouto to pause and let you rest after that intense orgasm, but he fucked you through your release and yanked on your hair harder, overstimulating you easily. "S-S-Shouto." You stammered, feeling his dick pulsate inside of you. Todoroki started pistoning his hips into yours at a more brutal pace, seeing you come undone for the second time. "I'm gonna fuck you full of my cum, and you're gonna be my pretty little girlfriend. How's that sound?" A gurgled yes left your mouth, too far gone to even properly validate his question. A loud groan echoed through the room as spurts of your boss's hot semen shot into your unprotected womb with full intention of getting you pregnant. You lie there, panting for a while before he picks you up, and sets you on the small leather couch in the corner. "I promise that Neca will no longer bother you. And that you and our child will have the best luxuries in the world." He murmurs, lying down in front of you and petting your moist hair. "I'm glad this happened, Shouto." He chuckled. "Yeah. Me too." The dreaded sound of the elevator returned, and this time, you could hear many voices chatting. You look over at your newfound lover's desk to read the time. 5:00 am. Also known as, office hours.

#todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #todoroki #bnha todoroki #todoroki headcanons #todoroki x reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x y/n #todoroki imagine #shouto x reader #shouto x you #bnha shouto #shouto fluff #shouto headcanons #shouto x y/n

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gotnofucks · 4 years

Text

Ball’s In Your Court

Paring: Steve Rogers x Reader, (platonic tony x reader)

Summary: Steve and Y/n have been playing games for years. But now that Rogers is acting like a little bitch, Y/n throws him a curve ball that will either make them or break them.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None man. Its fluff and angst. Language (?)

A/N: I was experimenting with the third person P.O.V for reader. Hope it’s to your liking.

MASTERLIST

+++++

For as long as Steve could remember, their life together had been a game; bet after bet, challenge after challenge. He had met her when she was just entering her teens, a little girl with a lost wild look in her eyes. She was in all respects Tony’s daughter, rescued by him from the wreckage of his own weapons. He had almost done a double take when Tony had introduced her to the team.

“This is Y/n, she will stay with us from now”

The compound was not used to the pitter patter of little feet or their furniture appearing embellished overnight. She had lost everything, including it seemed herself. So, their first game ironically had been Hide and Seek. She was small and he lost count of how many times she had bested him by crawling under the cramped spaces of desks or vents (Thanks for teaching her that, Barton).

When Tony had complained about the hundredth time that she just wouldn’t eat, Steve would challenge her that whoever finished their breakfast first could choose the movie for tonight. When she refused to let them leave for missions, he would challenge her to a game of cards. She was too young to win against him but her stubborn streak never turned down a game.

Their every interaction had been a game. They could get each other to do anything by playing chess or softball or a game of Horse that drove everyone else up the wall. He got her to open up about school bullies by besting her at Pictionary and she had effectively gotten him to shut up about healthy food by kicking his ass at video games. They dealt with drama via games (Whoever tosses the least paper balls in the bin tells Bruce we fucked his experiment ), they dealt with humor via games (let’s see who can manage to steal Nat’s gun without getting caught), they dealt with grief via game (if you beat me at Heads Up I’ll let you choose the gravestone).

Growing up, she was Tony’s daughter and Steve’s best friend. While Tony raised her, Steve gossiped with her. They were pals and all was fun and games until she grew up from a little girl into a young woman. Steve didn’t know when things changed but the first he noticed it was when she had run into his arms bawling because some idiot boy broke her heart. It was when he found himself conflicted between anger at the boy and jealousy that this shit started.

He had tried, he had really tried to keep it in check. He had tried to keep up with their game’s night ritual, their silly bets and ridiculous challenges. He had tried his best to be a friend, but this was one challenge he lost. She was no more the 14-year-old girl asking him questions for her history project or the 16-year-old nightmare who would put cockroaches in his bed as revenge. This was a young woman in her 20s with curves for days and an attitude that raised hell. It was a classic falling for your best friend story (if only he weren’t old enough to be her dad or was her dad’s best friend).

He had of course been under the impression that he was being subtle about his change in feelings. He tried not to stare when they went out for a swim, he resisted the urge to lick her lips after a nacho eating contest. He was trying so fucking hard, but as anyone could have told him, “Steve, you don’t have a subtle bone in your body, you frisbee throwing maniac”. She was Tony Stark’s daughter; she was not raised to be stupid. She was smart and observant and almost as quick a study as her father. It was no surprise then that she figured out what had Steve so wound up around her.

Maybe it would have creeped her out had it been anyone else, but Steve was her person. He was her one constant, from kissing her boo-boos to getting her home after she drank herself silly, Steve was there. It shouldn’t have surprised Steve so much then when she cornered him one evening and planted a wet one smack on his mouth with a muttered, “This sexual tension it killing me, gotta do something about it because you won’t”.

He wished he could say he clutched her body to his and dragged her to his room for a wild night of passion. But in reality, he chickened out like a bitch and ran away. Not just from her, but he completely disappeared from the compound for two weeks. When he came back, it was with the intentions of telling her they couldn’t do it, it was wrong and a betrayal to Tony. But Steve needn’t have worried because he came back to the compound to find her introducing the team to her boyfriend.

As far as others know, Steve didn’t deliberately break those glasses that night or push the idiot boy in the pool. It was an accident, and if such accidents kept happening around men she dated then it was purely coincidental.

It was a new kind of game they played then, a more dangerous one and if one’s being honest, a very sensual game. She would date someone; he would scare them away. One of them will find the other, have a passionate make out session, probably end up straddling the other on a desk and then one of them will get up and leave with the same lie “This can’t happen again”. Repeat.

Gone were the days of challenges and competitions, in its place was a sexually charged game of Tag. A cat and mouse game where they always chased each other, touching fleetingly before retreating again. Neither would be the one to make a commitment, neither would concede to being the person who would put their hearts on the line. They were two bulls who were made to butt heads (who occasionally took time off to play a quick game of tonsil-hockey).

Steve had known there had to be an end to this. It had gone on for so long that he could bet other people suspected some shit. He had honestly expected for Tony to sucker punch him half a dozen times by now. Right now, he would have taken those punches to the news she had just given to the team.

“I am getting married!” She announced, offering her left hand so others can admire the gorgeous diamond ring that sat on her ring finger. She looked happy, absolutely radiant and it was all Steve could do to stop himself from dragging her out of here by her hair and throwing that offending ring into the garbage chute. What the fuck kind of game was she playing?

He waited until everyone was asleep before he broke into her room. Well, breaking into would suggest it was forced but truly only him and Tony had the authorization to enter. Their relationship may have changed from ‘you’re my best friend’ to ‘I want to be your best lay’, but they still knew each other the best and cared just as much as before, if not more.

She was under the covers in her bed, a small nightlamp on. It had been a while since Steve had been in her room and it was like taking a big gulp of nostalgia. Her room was her sanctuary, so it reflected her heart’s desires. Every surface of the room was littered with one of their memories together. Her pinboard was still holding the notes he would write to her in school, the birthday cards he made himself and the portraits he would sketch for her. On her desk stood the numerous gifts he had gotten her, each well taken care of despite the years between. Right beside her on the cabinet was a picture of them together, both of them holding hands and smiling at each other in what could only be called as “lovesick smitten idiots”.

He was cautious as he lowered himself next to her on the bed, her face so peaceful he felt like he would taint it by his touch and presence. He had looked at her for years, sketched her details hundreds of times and yet each time he beheld her, he felt his heart skip a beat. She was a memory that he tried to forget and yet it emerged every time he closed his eyes. She was in his skin, a part of him in a way that defied all laws of nature and social customs.

“Are you going to keep staring at me and be the creep from Twilight or do you plan on getting inside?”

Her voice made him jump because she hadn’t opened her eyes. She was smiling that lazy smile of hers when she would catch his bluff in poker. He chuckled and shifted the sheets, climbing under them and curling his body around her. It may as well have been cliché to say that they fit like a puzzle, but it was true. They were molded to fit against each other perfectly, like that lid you close over a box and the satisfying ‘tick’ sound it makes when it clicks into place. That’s what being with her felt like. Fitting in. Coming home.

“Why are you doing this Y/n?” Steve asked and she pushed her body into his so he could hug her tighter.

“Because you won’t do anything Steve. We’ve been running around in circles for so long now, and every time I think that finally we’ll be together, you abandon fort and run. I can’t do this anymore.”

Steve took her left hand and watched her ring twinkle in a taunt. It could have been him. It should be him.

“Don’t marry him. He will never give you what you want.”

“I know that Steve, no one can give me what they want because they aren’t you. But I can’t keep waiting for you in the sidelines hoping you’ll pull your head out of your ass. I want to be loved, preferably in this life.”

His arms were like tentacles around her, but she didn’t complain. Every embrace and moment between them was so fleeting, a stolen moment that she enjoyed what she could get. This was probably the longest in a few years that they had held each other without one running for the hills.

“I love you, you know that.” He whispered in her ear, longing evident in his voice.

“I know that, as much as I know that you won’t do shit about it. Loving someone is not always enough Steve. It’s just the beginning. I – I won’t keep my love a secret. I don’t want ten angry sensual minutes in the broom closet. I want walks in the park and two dogs and a cat. I want picnics with our family and pictures that are not restricted to my room. You can’t give me that. You won’t.”

She had run out of tears. Her fiancé may not be Steve Rogers but at least he was an honest man who tried his best to love her the way she deserved. She had met his family and they had met hers; they could post pictures on social media with cheesy captions and hold hands as they drank coffee from a cheap corner place.

“You can never love anyone like you love me” It was a sulky declaration by a hurt lover and she almost cooed to him like a mommy consoling her baby. Steve may have been older to her in years, but when it came to love he was an immature brat.

“That may be true, but I will try. I am not Penelope waiting in the balcony for Odysseus to return. I love you, and that love may never fade away. But my life will go on. It is your choice if you want to be a part of it.”

She faced him, her eyes open and clear. He didn’t know when the little girl who needed help to reach the jar on the shelf had grown up in this headstrong woman who could beat a sailor when it came to cursing. But he couldn’t bear the thought of her staying like this in someone else’s bed, looking at them the way she looked at him. Steve rarely coveted something in his life, but he didn’t realize until now how much he coveted her love. If he lost that, he feared he would lose himself.

“Your father is going to kill me” Steve groaned, and she laughed. Her head was on his chest and an arm around his torso.

“We can elope, you know. Run away and get married. It will be too late to do anything then. You’ll be stuck with me.”

“Did you just propose to me?” Steve questioned and she nodded, her eyes naughty.

“I’m always a step ahead of you Captain. I figured you would take another month at least to ask and I have wasted too much time already.” She whispered against his lips. He leaned up to kiss her deeply, unhurried for the first time. It was like their first kiss all over again, like two star-crossed lovers smashing through their final obstacle and uniting. Steve didn’t know how he had survived so long without having her like this, but as his hands found her soft curves, he swore he can’t go a day without it.

“Stop stop!” She said, pushing his chest and rolling away from him. “We’ve waited this long. You’re not getting your dick wet until you finally commit to me.”

Steve looked more dumbfounded than offended and responded by finally taking off the ring on her finger and throwing it away carelessly.

“I’ll steal the Quinjet, meet me in the hanger in half an hour. Don’t pack shit. We’ll make one stop for the rings and get the first officiant I can find to marry us. We’ll probably be back by breakfast. And then,” His arm wound around her waist “I will lay rest to the sexual tension of years by getting my dick wet. Repeatedly.”

+++++

It was to be expected that Tony’s daughter wouldn’t do anything halfway through. A flair for dramatics was her inheritance and she and Steve walked into the compound newly married in rumpled night clothes and shit eating grin. They found everyone eating in the kitchen, and greetings stopped halfway when the rest of the team noticed their clasped hands.

“What the fuck…” Bruce said, half eaten celery dangling from his open mouth.

Y/n flashed them her award-winning smile and showed the matching rings on her and Steve’s hand. It was a riot under a minute, chairs scraping as they crowded them, trying to see if it was a joke. Then just as suddenly everyone stopped and Tony stepped forward, a spatula in his hand that to Steve looked as threatening as a gun.

“You sick son of a bitch!” Tony shouted and Steve flinched. He looked at Y/n but all she did was wear a smug look on her face that should be illegal in about three continents. “You little bitch! You are supposed to be from the 90s! You were supposed to ask her hand from me like a gentleman you sick little fuck!”

Steve blinked in confusion while she laughed, hopping like a little girl to hug her father.

“Pay up, daddy! You owe me 500 bucks.” She said and Tony groaned, pulling out his wallet and handing her crisp five 100s.

“I – what? What happened?” Steve sputtered, still surprised he wasn’t being beaten by the Iron Legion.

“You weren’t supposed to elope you bastard. Always knew chivalry was dead!” Tony huffed then went back to cooking. “Congratulations by the way. Fucking finally. I’m not surprised my girl had to do everything anyway. She’s taken after me.”

This was a plot twist Steve never expected and he looked at his new wife with a look of horror on his face that could only be translated to as ‘what the fuck have I gotten myself into’.

“I told you baby, I’m always a step ahead of you.” She said, trying and failing to blush like a bride.

+++++

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#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #tony x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you

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