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littlejuicebox · 4 months

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The wish spell worked.

Pairing: Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: 10 years post BG3. Follows my HC for spawn Astarion arc. See my other fics for more information, but otherwise the title speaks for itself. :)

Rating/Warnings: PG / allusions to sexual behaviors / fluff / in-game spoilers / lightest bit of angst if you squint but not really / this is self-indulgent af and idc / so sweet it will rot your teeth

Word Count: 2.2 K

A/N: HAPPY 400 FOLLOWERS POST! Thank you to everyone who likes my stories and provides encouragement. I love you all! I originally wanted to post this as a New Years Eve/Day special, but I couldn't get it quite right by then. After several reiterations, this is what we finally have! Hope it was worth the wait and multiple edits for you guys! :)

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If anyone had told Astarion Ancunin a decade ago that he would one day hold Gale Dekarios on a pedestal nearly as high as the one on which he held his darling Tav, the immortal elf might have actually died from laughter. The strange irony and wicked life lessons of fate were not lost on the retired rogue. Unbelievably and annoyingly, Astarion eventually found himself indebted to the wizard in a way he could never repay.

The wish spell worked.

It had taken years for Gale to feel absolutely ready to cast the spell. Astarion waited — exasperated, impatient, and impetuous — for what felt like the longest ten years of his ageless lifetime to be given the gift of mortality.

More than once, in the pale elf’s tearful fits of frustration, he accused the wizard of intentionally stringing him along or simply not having the skills to perform such a spell and not wanting to admit it. More than once, you had to calmly remind your husband of the great lengths Gale had gone to find information regarding the act and the even greater risk to both the vampire and the wizard if the spell was not cast perfectly and mindfully.

It had been a long decade, waiting for that impossible possibility, but the wait had been more than worth it.

Just over ten years after you met that silver-haired rake on the beach, Astarion was miraculously returned to his living, breathing, heart beating, mortal elven form. Surprisingly, not much changed about his appearance. Most notably, his eyes turned a gold-flecked green, and his complexion took on a constant soft pink undertone, permanently tinged by the circulation of his own blood by his own heart. That beautiful undertone caused a delightful blush to creep across his cheeks and ears whenever you teased or aroused him, and you took an even more significant liking to both these behaviors, just to watch that gorgeous rosiness creep across his skin.

And while you dearly loved that blush, your favorite part of the change had certainly been the steady beating of his heart. You would rest your head on your lover’s chest for hours to savor the sound if he let you, wrapped tightly in the new found warmth of his long limbs.

While you became obsessed with Astarion’s steadily thrumming heart, he’d become obsessed with his reflection. As soon as he’d been able to see himself, your husband had taken to having you sit on his lap while you primped and preened. He would stare into the looking glass with you for long lengths of time, his limbs coiled around your waist and chin often resting on your shoulder as he studied the mirror with a besotted, hazy smile on his face.

After a few weeks of this, you finally asked your silver-haired husband why he seemed positively obsessed with this new behavior. Astarion’s response had floored you.

“Darling, in my over 200 years, I never imagined I would have a love of my own, nor did I ever imagine what we would look like together. I couldn’t have envisioned such a thing even if I thought it a possibility or wanted to. I simply couldn’t envision myself at all. But now seeing it? I want to commit everything to memory exactly as it is… because it’s the most precious vision in the world to me.”

And really how else could you respond to that apart from kissing your sappy, bleeding heart of a husband and allowing him to continue the practice?

Of course, the two of you behaving as innocent love birds hadn’t been the only thing Astarion wanted to see in the mirror. On more than one occasion, he’d easily charmed you into the throes of passion in perfect view of a reflective surface. Your husband’s darker, more carnal half had become obsessed with watching you two in the act and it certainly thrilled you to know he was trying to commit those sensual sights to memory. You were quite happy to oblige.

As such, you’d soon found yourself carrying the byproduct of one of your many erotic couplings.

“That was a big one.” Astarion murmurs, and you see a smile creeping across the reflection of his face in the mirror as he glances down and runs his long fingers across the swell of your abdomen. His arms are looped around you as you sit front of the vanity mirror, placing the final touches on your appearance.

You agree with a gentle hum, moving a hand to your pregnant belly and rubbing circles on the stretch of skin, hoping to calm the young life stirring within. You coo softly to the rolling babe as you finish your primping, “Surely you aren’t thinking about breaking out of there yet, my little love. You have a few more months to go.”

Astarion’s now-warm hands cover yours as the little one seems to do somersaults in response to your voice, causing you to wince slightly as they jolt against your ribs. He presses a tender kiss into your shoulder and chuckles, “This one is strong like their mother and impatient like their father… we may be in for a spot of trouble in a few years, my love.”

You laugh in response as you stand with a pitiable amount of effort and quite a bit of assistance from the supportive arm of your husband. “I believe you’re right… but surely we’ve taken on scarier and more difficult things than a stubborn babe.”

Astarion hums in agreement before pressing a kiss to your swollen stomach, which is hovering just in front of him now, “Surely, darling. Now let us all go say hi to Uncle and Auntie Ravengard. I’m positively famished.”

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You are almost out of breath as you walk the final steps toward the entry of the Duke’s home. Astarion had practically begged you to take the carriage all the way through Wyll’s estate, but you waved him off, adamant that a bit light exercise would be good for the baby. The walkway was fully paved, how hard could it be?

As it turned out, you’d severely overestimated your abilities. Though it was just under a quarter mile to the front doors of the manor when you’d decided to exit the carriage, you were no longer the young, lithe woman that traversed the wilds with a petulant vampire a decade ago. The weight of your belly slowed you down more than you would admit. Astarion implored you, more than once and with growing concern and exasperation, to return to carriage. You refused each time, forcing the driver to follow behind at a snail’s pace.

“Gods, I hope this child does not take on your stubborn streak. I will be constantly overrun in my own home.” Astarion huffs, dabbing at the few beads of sweat on your brow with a silken handkerchief as he helps you climb the small flight of stairs at the entryway of Wyll’s home. He rolls his eyes as you laugh, breathlessly, and lean into him for support as he presses a kiss at the meeting point between your cheek and ear. “But, my sweet, as much as I would have preferred we stayed in the coach, you know I adore the way you look with your cheeks all flushed after a bit of… exertion.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes at your husband as he traces his hand over your flushed cheek, his expression practically brimming with desire. The flush on the tips of his ears is a telltale sign of his salacious thoughts. If he had it his way, he’d be dragging you into the carriage right there for a quickie. But, he knew you two were nearly running late for dinner with the Duke and forced himself to push all desires aside. For now.

Wyll and his beautiful wife, Euphemia, greet you with a flurry of excitement and hugs. Their two twin toddlers run around in the entryway, a nursemaid trailing behind them.

Wyll wears a kind, soft smile as he addresses the both of you, “Dinner should be just about ready… shall we make our way there? I hope you two don’t mind. We are having work done in the dining room — my beautiful flower insisted upon remodeling — so dinner will have to be served in the Great Hall.”

As the four of you head towards the larger of the two dining areas in the Duke’s estate, Astarion wraps his arm around your waist and runs his hand along the side of your nearly bursting belly once again. There is a subtle pause at the doors of the Great Hall, and your husband’s eyebrows crinkle in a silent question before you gently press a kiss into his cheek and whisper, “Happy Rebirth Day, my love.”

Today marked one year since Gale successfully cast the Wish Spell.

The oak doors burst open to reveal the faces of everyone you hold dear, all of them shouting, “Surprise!” in unison. Wyll and Euphemia are laughing with delight as the four of you enter the room. Astarion is obviously shocked and overwhelmed as he takes the scene in, but a toothy smile is plastered across his face nonetheless. The elf could not believe that the significance of the date had slipped his mind, nor could he believe that you all went through such great lengths to plan a spectacle on his behalf.

Everyone showered your husband with a plethora of well-wishes and congratulations. The food was heavenly, and the silver-haired elf dined to his heart’s content. Just as Astarion loved to watch you both in the mirror, you adored seeing him eat and savor real food. You’d pursued cooking as a new hobby in the past few months, just to watch the delight on his face as he tasted any number of delectable things you placed in front of him.

“Have you thought of any names for the baby?” Karlach asks through a mouthful of food as she continues to tear into the lamb shank in front of her.

You smile knowingly. This topic has piqued everyone’s interest and they all turn their gazes in your direction, “Yes, actually… Astarion picked it out. It works well for a boy or a girl, and I think it’s an excellent choice.”

The elf smiles shyly, that subtle flush of his cheeks and ears crawling across his face as you turn your gaze to him and urge him on, “Go on, my love, and tell them the gorgeous name you picked.”

“I… I decided we should name the baby Gale.” Astarion reveals, his hand immediately moving to graze against your swollen stomach as he meets the flabbergasted expression of the wizard sitting across the table with a round-eyed, nervous gaze, “If… that’s okay by you.”

Gale coughs in surprise, nearly choking on the wine he’d just sipped from a goblet. For a moment, you watch as he blinks away tears. You are beginning to truly believe he might leap across the table and tackle your husband in a hug when he rapidly nods instead.

The wizard’s voice cracks with emotion as he speaks, “Y-yes. Thank you, Astarion. That is such an honor.”

Ten years of friendship between two men that once seemed entirely at odds with one another, honored by a namesake given to a precious babe. Fate was a truly remarkable thing.

“It’s an honor you are quite deserving of, Gale.” You respond, reaching your hand across the table to give the wizard’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “May our child have just as much heart, wit, and skill as their namesake. We will be truly blessed.”

A cake with candles is brought about at the end of the meal and placed in front of Astarion as everyone sings an off-key birthday tune. While your husband always seemed to thrive on being held at the center of attention, you noticed with a bit of amusement that his ears and cheeks were flushed pink as everyone focused their eyes upon him.

While the others continue to sing, you lean closer to your husband and whisper, “I know we will never surpass the wish you made last time, my Star. But go on and make one anyway.”

Astarion’s gaze roams around the room, taking in all the friends he collected this past decade. Then he turns to you and grins, pausing to etch every bit of this moment into his memory before closing his eyes and blowing the candles out to a cacophony of inebriated cheers and whoops.

The elf wished for the only thing he could: a healthy child and a long life with his little love. Fate had already gifted him with more than he could have imagined for himself back in those dark, dank dungeons he once called home. Astarion found himself in want of nothing but the health and happiness of the woman beside him and the safety of their offspring.

Though he knew it was another selfish ask, and he’d been blessed far more than he had ever expected, Astarion prayed to the gods that he once never thought would answer to grant him this last wish. And just in case they did not hear him the first time, he would be sure to make the same wish every year, until his very last.

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grave-z-boy · 12 days

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Nanami Kento x Male!reader

Paring: Nanami Kento x male!husband!reader

Summary: reader and Namami come home after over a year in a hospital.

Warning: relatively anti-climactic, everybody lives/nobody dies Au, post-shibuya incident, mentions of gojo and the first years, mentions of extended hospital stays, injury (to children and adults), and medically induced coma, short fic.

Word count: 1069

A/n: was I asked to write this? No, do I have 30+ request in my inbox, yes. Do I even write for jkk on a regular basis? No. And yet here we are.

The car ride home was deafeningly quiet. 15 months away from it made it feel…distant. You still went there, every other day or so, but you were never inside for more than ten minutes, you didn't eat or sleep there. Your books were untouched, your refrigerator was emptied months ago when you realized all the food had gone bad, your bed was still perfectly made, as he had made it that morning all those months ago.

You breathed in as you reached a familiar stop light. Tapping your finger against the steering wheel as you held it.

“Are you nervous?” was the first thing Nanami said since you left the hospital.

“A little.” you breathed out, “I wish I took better care of it- I know you loved it, now it's dusty and…sad.”

He let out a small laugh- the road was clear so you took a moment to glance at him, that beautiful smile, in spite of everything. You found yourself smiling too.

“It wasn't the house that I loved.”

His hand rested on top of yours on the middle console, his thumb running along the side of your hand for a moment before turning it over and locking your fingers together.

“Stop that..” you muttered, because that's what you were used to, affection and intimacy are hard in such a clinical setting. Especially in a hospital full of people with…traditional values.

He didn't stop, not letting go until you pulled into the driveway of your shared home, only to reach for you again when you got out of the car.

He's nervous, he's been nervous a lot in these 15 months, you couldn't blame him. Shibuya was…a lot. It's still completely blocked off, you are surprised the whole station hasn't been torn down due to the damage.

You knew it weighed heavily on his mind, not just about himself, but the first year- Gojo- everyone who got hurt that night. The hospital limited the amount of people who could visit him after having a room full of other patients crowd into his room- god, did he even know that happened? He was put in a medically induced coma on his first day there. People say that you can still be aware, but does he know just how much love was poured into his room that day? You remember Nobara’s face, covered in tears, trying her best to make the best out of a bad situation, she talked to him about matching eye patches of all things- she threw a fit when they made her leave.

Yuji only needed a few stitches, that didn't stop him from being there every day for nearly three months before he had to go back to school. He treated the room like his own personal space, a jacket thrown over the chair, homework scattered across the little portable table, food and drinks littering the place- it got so bad a nurse had to threaten him with a permanent ban. He kept the spotless.

Megumi didn't visit much, and when he did, it was with Gojo. The two of them were practically attached at the hip after Megumi’s stay at the hospital. A concussion- on top of several broken ribs and a pierced lung. He’s back at school now too, and Gojo is back to teaching.

Your hand shook slightly as you unlocked the door- you're nervous too, you were just here a couple of days ago, you shouldn't be this nervous, this was your house, everything was fine.

Opening the door to be met with nice, cold air- you blinked. Your air conditioner broke almost a year ago- after you left it running for almost a month with no break or no end in sight it crapped out on you, and now it was magically alive again.

You stepped into the house with caution. The air was clear, not even close to the dusty mess you'd left it. Any of the visible partials in the air were gone. The curtains were drawn and the sun shined in through every window. You walked further in. Passed the pristine living room and into the kitchen, where what could only be described as a mountain of gifts sitting on the counter.

“Ken, who was in our house?” you asked, stepping back.

“I asked Gojo to clean up before we left the hospital-” you groaned “-I didn't realize he would be so…gracious.”

You picked up a small pink gift bag from the bottom of the pile. The tag had Nobara’s name written on it, it wasn't her usual nice, practiced handwriting, it was off center a bit, and drooped down at the edge, but it was still distinctly her writing.

Reaching in, then pulling out a small cluster of black fabric. You unraveled it, revealing a black eye patch, with a dark red rose pattern on it.

“This is yours, from Nobara.”

He blinked before taking it. The one he wore now was stark white, given to him by the hospital. He slipped it off without a word- you never realized how quickly you’d grown used to his scars- once they finally healed that is. It was just…normal for you know.

He put the new eye patch on, and it honestly looked a million times better than the old one.

With a smile, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hand and pulling him towards you. You kissed his cheek, then his lips-only briefly- before saying, “It looks good.”

That made him smile, even if it was small.

You both decided that the gifts could wait until later. Heading upstairs for a well deserved nap.

Gojo actually sucked at making beds, but you could tell he tried his best- or he made his students do it, one or the other. It didn't matter either way, the comforter was untucked and you crawled into bed with your husband for the first time in over a year.

Your cheek pressed against his chest, you realized he was still wearing his jacket- and so were you. You let out a small huff of laughter but made you move to ask him to take it off or take off your own. You watched as his blinking slowed, then stopped completely, his arms wrapped loosely around you, as yours were around him. His deep breathing and the near rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lulled you to sleep.

#male reader #male!reader #x male reader #male y/n #nanami kento x male reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk nanami #nanami kento #jjk x male reader #jjk x reader #✮ — z boy

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kitswag · 8 months

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Ace, Sabo remembered clearly, was not this sappy.

The ten-year-old Ace loved them plenty of course, a loving and caring big brother who protected Sabo and Luffy from any harm, that death glared anyone who dared to stare at his little brothers funny. Sabo had found that throughout the ten years they were apart, Ace had stayed the same, had still protected them from harm, but something else had bloomed in and trapped Luffy and Sabo in the middle of it, something that Sabo had missed the chance to see grow.

Ten years away had drifted Sabo distant from their usual rituals and banters and habits, when he dragged them away from Marineford the very last minute, he had seen that everything stayed the exact same. How Ace had still protected Luffy and how Luffy was still so endearingly stubborn, fighting tooth and nail for someone he loved.

After it, however, after Ace had awoken from a long sleep, after his punch was centered right to Sabo's cheek, after tears and hugs and explanations of the missing hole in his memory, after tackles from Luffy, Sabo had noticed something. This something that bloomed in his older brother.

Something that had Ace dragging them towards his embrace, Pulling them close to plant kisses on their foreheads. Soft and tight, "my brothers, " Ace had murmured as he kept them both safe and warm.

Luffy tucked himself into the fold of Ace's arms like he had practiced it thousands of times before, resting himself into a place he knew existed for him, between Ace's chest and his arms, above his lap and beneath his chin.

Sabo rested awkwardly on Ace's shoulder, slowly observing Luffy's huge, content smile. A smile so sweet and so bright it made Sabo's heart melt, his eyes trailed to Ace's as his was warm and comforting, both acted as blankets wrapping around Sabo and whispering to him; "you are here. And we are too."

Both of them were fast asleep, too tired from crying and the whole thing Marineford was.

Sabo's only working right eye observed Ace and Luffy, wrapped around each other so perfectly, a pair of brothers who had spent ten years with each others, who made a space for each other, a space they fit into, curled around one another.

The three of them had made spaces around each other years ago. A space that's still there. Still open.

Yet Ace's embrace was new, and Luffy had already made his space in it long ago, fitting right into Ace's open one.

It made Sabo wonder, would he fit into this new embrace? could he make a space, tucked inside Ace's embrace? this new embrace Ace and Luffy had created without him?

Would he fit after ten years without them? Would they mind? would-

"Sabo? aren't you joining? Ace had already pulled you, so if you don't join it's a crime, " Luffy's sudden owlish gaze struck Sabo. His little brother stuck out his bottom lip, "I want to hug you. "

Ah. It seemed like he had woken Luffy up somehow. But Luffy was like that, wasn't he? he didn't like being left alone.

(And Sabo had done just that ten years ago.)

Sabo hesitated. Luffy did not.

His little brother stretched his rubbery arms around Sabo and dragged him in until Sabo was half-laying down, the side of his head against Ace's chest, his legs sprawled on the medical bed that was a bit too small for three people.

Luffy smiled as Sabo had completely sunk in the embrace, "don't just stay in the sides, Sabo, you belong here. "

And Luffy carelessly jerked back to sleep, now his arms wrapped securely along Sabo and Ace.

Sabo felt his eyes water.

("You belong here.")

So Sabo made himself comfortable and fought the urge to cry. Slowly, he tucked himself into a space.

(A space Ace and Luffy had open for him a long time ago, he only now just realized.)

("You belong here.")

Sabo felt tears dripping from his eyes, for the ten years gone and the ten years ahead. For his space, back in their little trio he loved so much.

"Idiot. You're crying again. I thought the crybaby was supposed to be Luffy, " Ace's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Shut up, " Sabo chuckled, "you cried too," he wiped the back of his hand against his eyes, yet they kept dripping out.

"Only once, " Ace snickered, wiping his tears off with a thumb. Ace pressed another kiss on his forehead, and then on Luffy's, and then he went back to sleep.

His big brother tightened his hold on him and Luffy, and Sabo couldn't help but smile.

He wiped the tears off and settled in the space he belonged to.

("You belong here".)

#one piece #revolutionary sabo #monkey d. luffy #portgas d. ace #asl brothers #op fanfic #one piece fanfiction #thinking about what sabo would think if he ever get to experience ace's hugs #he would be flabbergasted but he would love it #i love them so much they're so brothers :“”“(((

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bridenore · 2 months

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Author rec : The_Sinking_Ship

The_Sinking_Ship is one of my favorite authors. Here are a few recs, listed in alphabetical order.

Chasing Dragons by @the-sinking-ship [98k]

Draco can think of only one way to outclass his pleat-front-khaki-wearing politician ex, and that’s by making headlines with an obvious upgrade. And who better to upstage the cheating bastard than the Saviour of the World, Harry Potter himself? Sure, Potter is a little rough around the edges in ripped jeans, a rumpled tartan shirt, and a permanent scowl. Draco reckons a haircut and a shave wouldn’t hurt, either. But Potter is also in need of a Healer willing to keep his secrets, and Draco is just the man for the job. It’s a perfectly reasonable exchange. They need only attend a couple parties arm-in-arm, smile nicely for the paparazzi, and tolerate each other long enough to convince everyone they’re smitten. In return, Draco will keep Potter alive and in one piece. But it isn’t long before Draco realises he might be in over his head, because Potter is ten tonnes of trouble packed into a leather jacket, and seems keen on hurtling himself towards death on the back of a flying motorbike. And that says nothing of Potter’s penchant for fire-breathing beasts and things that bite. Ah well, at least they’ll have some fun while it lasts. After all, Draco always did like a bit of danger.

Criminal by @the-sinking-ship [83k]

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit?

Dwelling on Dreams by @the-sinking-ship [135k]

Draco thought he could avoid Potter for the duration of his brief return to England. He’d stick to his schedule and be back home in Paris, where he belonged, in a few short months. No trouble at all. He had plenty to occupy him, what with the opening of the London branch of his successful apothecary, his innovative research, drinks with Pansy, a backlog of unread potions periodicals. Except Head Auror Potter is everywhere — in Draco's chair, at his door, in his dreams. All six feet of motorbike-riding, combat-boot-wearing, sex-hair-sporting Saviour of the World packed into one unfairly fetching uniform. Potter won’t leave Draco the bloody hell alone, won’t let him breathe, let him forget, let him sleep. Because no matter how fast Draco Malfoy runs, Harry Potter is always hot on his heels.

Finely Drawn Lines by @the-sinking-ship [61k]

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus. From the curl of his lips to the exact number of lines that form at the corners of his eyes when he laughs, Draco has catalogued every shade of one Harry James Potter between the pages of his sketchbook. So long as Potter remains none the wiser, Draco will have no trouble controlling his crush. But when Potter comes to him with a dangerous proposition, Draco fears things are about to get so much more complicated.

Never Mind the Bollocks by @the-sinking-ship [118k]

If someone told Harry six months ago that by autumn he would be single, living on whisky and toast, and dancing the night away with Draco Malfoy, he would have told them to get their head checked. And yet, here he was.

Nights With You by @the-sinking-ship [58k]

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend. Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

On Target by @the-sinking-ship [13k]

A charity dunk tank, some sorry excuses for friends, a Slytherin with freakishly good aim, a (mostly) empty locker room, and one very small towel. Because, apparently, everyone is dying to get Harry Potter wet.

Sugar Sweet by @the-sinking-ship [5k]

Draco thinks everyone forgot his birthday. (They didn’t.)

Things We Do by @the-sinking-ship [16k]

Drinking, dancing, and the sorts of decisions made after one too many shots of vodka.

'Tis a Far Better Thing by @the-sinking-ship [37k]

'Tis a far, far better thing doing stuff for other people — or however the Muggle saying goes — because Potter is in need of professional help, and Draco is just the man to give it to him. A Drarry Clueless AU.

The Unspeakable by @the-sinking-ship [24k]

Healer Draco Malfoy took the job at the International Department of Mysteries for the paycheck and the prestige. But what he got was Unspeakable Harry Potter and the most fascinating curse he’d ever seen.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

#my recs #drarry #drarry recs #author rec

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diaryujin · 7 months

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𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒

summary: ahn yujin was a name you didn't want to hear ever since your break up three months ago. sure, it hurt at first, but now you were okay, you were over her. until she gave you a letter.

genre: angsty fluff

includes: panic attacks (happens twice), parties, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn't drink) and making out, all of lsrfm and ive except leeseo and eunchae, lizrei side ship, reader is in denial, angst with a happy ending, exes to lovers, lmk if i missed anything

pairing: ex! yujin x ex! fem! reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: this took way longer to type down than i'd like to admit

With shaking hands, Yujin gave you a small envelope before dashing off in the opposite direction. Your heart leaped as you guessed what it was.

Yujin was your ex. It had been three months since you both ended things. She told you that she didn’t feel like she was in the right mindset to continue being in a relationship anymore. While you were grateful that she didn’t just ghost or ignore you completely, damn right did that hurt. What was worse was how you couldn’t really blame anyone for this since it was no one’s fault.

You had moved on though. You had bandaged up your wounds, and the ghosts that haunted your which reminded you of her had been exorcised.

You were ready for this letter, but you weren’t going to read it on campus. Shoving the envelope in your purse, you walked out. Autumn was evident — leaves were turning orange, brown and yellow, falling out of trees and flying away with the gentle, cool breeze. You pulled the beanie you were wearing more over your ears, not wanting them to go cold. The sound of soft, calming music playing in your earphones accompanying the visual treat your eyes got to see made you smile to yourself and momentarily forget about Yujin and her letter. Upon reaching your dorm, you took out the dorm key and unlocked it, seeing the living room pristine as usual. Trust Rei and Wonyoung for that. You went into your room, which was a stark contrast. Throwing your purse and bag onto your bed, you flopped into your chair in front f your desk exhausted. It was a Friday, which meant that you had the weekend to do your work (or procrastinate), so you stayed in your chair in an odd position, almot like a ragdoll.

Your eyes darted to your purse and you sighed.

Yujin.

‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ a voice in your head said.

‘But satisfaction brought it back,’ another one argued.

You reached out for your purse. If you didn’t read it, you’d be in the dark about what Yujin wanted to tell you, and it’d be rude to ignore her and what she wanted to say. Your fingers traced the edges of the white envelope, as if scared to read the contents. Slowly peeling off the seal, you undid the flap and pulled out the paper inside. You unfolded it carefully, heart beating quic-

“Y/N, Y/N, me and Wonyoung are going to the mall to get some new clothes. There’s a limited edition collection. You coming?”

This could wait. A distraction was exactly what you needed.

“Sure. Give me ten minutes to get ready.”

“The outfit you came back in is fine.”

“Bu- Wait, you saw me?”

“Duh?”

“Oh. Alright then.”

Placing the envelope in your desk drawer, you took your purse again, before opening the door of your room. Rei and Wonyoung were waiting in the living room, Rei giggling at her phone and Wonyoung teasing her about it. Their outfits fit them and their personality perfectly, and for a minute you felt self conscious. Their fashion sense was to die for.

“Ah, Y/N! Ready?”

“Yep. Wonyoung, I really like your shirt. It’s cute.”

She smiled sweetly at you.

“Thank you. Yujin bought it for me.”

Your face froze at the mention of her, and Wonyoung (being the caring person she is) immediately apologized.

“Ah, sorry. I know things aren’t all…smooth sailing…with you guys.”

She grimaced at her own mistake, but you didn’t notice. You were thinking about the letter, and your mind was tracing back to the memories of the year you were together, and oh God, oh God-

“Y/N?”

You could feel her hands on your shoulders, concerned eyes looking down at you.

“You’re shaking…”

She hugged you tight in a moment so rapid you barely felt it. Her arms wrapped around you protectively, one of her hands patting your head like a mother comforting her child. Rei was nearby too. You didn’t see their faces, since your eyes were closed shut so that you could prevent your tears from falling, but you could hear Rei softly talking and reassuring you that everything was okay, a stark contrast to how she usually was.

“Y/N, listen to Wonyoung’s breathing, okay? In and out…in and out. That’s it, that’s it. Nothing’s going to happen, you’re just fine.

They didn’t know what else to say. Neither of you did anything wrong, and Yujin was their friend too. It was a confusing thing to handle.

“Y/N, how do you feel now? Do you still want to come?”

“Yeah. Need to take my mind off things.”

“You sure?”

“Mm.”

“Not a clear answer.”

“I am.”

Rei sighed before nodding.

“If you’re okay.”

Five hours.

You were at the mall for five hours.

And it sure as hell did take your mind off things.

There you were in your room — stomach satisfied, bags with clothes, stationary and other random items (maybe a plushie or two) in the corner, yet your mind was still restless. Delaying the reading of the letter was not a good idea, since now you had even more nerves than before. You had to open it at some point, but holy shit could you just not do it? You took out the paper inside and unfolded it slowly, your hands shaking as much as Yujin’s when she gave it to you.

Dear Y/N,

It’s been three months. I thought I moved on, really.

As I write this to you, I realize I haven’t.

I’m not asking you to take me back, but I can’t sleep properly at night because I think about you and cry so much.

~ Yujin

Your eyes widened, and your jaw dropped. You thought you had healed, but this? These three sentence ripped off the bandages and rubbed salt into the wounds in your heart. You put the paper on your desk, wanting to process what you just ‘blessed’ your sight with, although your brain begged you to read it again. In the end, you gave in and read through it again.

And again.

And then it hit.

Yujin still loved you. It was so simple with the way she wrote it, but due to the shock factor, it didn’t click.

Yujin still loved you.

No wonder she was shaking.

There was another question — did you still love her too?

Didn’t you move on?

Didn’t you?

Or had you been lying to yourself this whole time?

Leaning back in your chair, you started thinking. You would think about her every night, every time you were bored, every time you were free, every time you were stressed — basically, all the time. You’d think about how she’d hold you, comfort you, hug you, kiss you, cuddle you, talk to you, laugh with you, cry in front of you, vent to you…and more.

Whenever you found yourself in an unideal situation, your mind always darted back to Yujin. ‘What would Yujin do?’ was something you’d ask yourself when you were in hot waters.

Maybe you weren’t over her.

Maybe you still needed her.

Scratch that maybe.

You still loved her.

This realization — this enlightenment — shook you to the core.

The world was spinning around you. You desperately needed her. You needed her with you, to hug you, to calm you down and to tell you that everything was going to be alright.

But she wasn’t here, she wasn’t here.

Interrupting the loud and muddled thoughts in your brain causing havoc was a soft knock at your door.

“Y/N-ah? Can I come in?”

Hastily shoving the envelope and letter in your drawer, you call out.

“Sure, Rei!”

You saw the door handle slowly move, and the girl entered. Her eyes scanned the room, before finding a spot to sit on your bed. You tried to act cool, willing your eyes away from the drawer.

“Y/N, how are you feeling now?”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot, honestly- but right now I’m referring to the slight panic attack you had earlier…?”

“Oh, that. I’m fine, I swear. Yujin’s name just brought back back memories, and- I don’t really know.”

She nodded, her face making it evident that she was lost in her thoughts.

“So the reason I came here is to ask you something.”

“Go on.”

“There’s a party happening tomorrow evening Wonyoung’s not going because she wants to complete her assignments, and I don’t want to go alone…”

She pursed her lips into a thin line and looked at you, a tad bit of hope in her eyes.

“I mean, sure.”

“It’s going to be in Yujin’s dorm…Gaeul and Chaewon are hosting it. I’m pretty sure that Yujin won’t be coming out of her room though.”

That made you freeze. Even though Rei had mentioned that it was unlikely that you’d see her, there was still a chance you would.

Did you want to risk it?

Rei had no one else.

Things could either go spectactularly right or horribly wrong.

“I’ll come.”

“Sure?”

“Sure.”

“You’re sure sure?”

“I’m sure sure.”

You laughed a little, and she smiled too.

“Tomorrow, 7 p.m. Wear something…party-ish, but not too formal, I guess? You know what I mean.”

“Yup.”

6:45 p.m.

You were sitting on the couch of the living room, wearing an outfit you deemed appropriate for the party. Rei was still getting ready in her room, so to pass the time you were on your phone, scrolling through your Instagram feed.

Chaewon. Like, comment.

Gaeul. Like, comment.

Wonyoung. Like, comment.

Jiwon, Rei. Like, comment, cute.

Yujin.

She didn’t post anything fancy or pictures of her going outside or having fun.

It was just selcas of her wearing her new headphones. She had her favorite lipgloss on, her hair was in a bun and she was wearing her glasses in the pictures.

10 minutes ago.

She probably wasn’t going to be in the party then, since her outfits for parties were completely different.

You should have been sighing in relief, but no — you felt your heart sink from disappointment.

Yet, you were staring at the pictures. She looked adorable, and she was smiling brightly in the last picture, and damn it you were falling for her all over again.

If you weren’t down bad before, this cemented it.

You wanted to see her smile, you wanted to see her face right in front of yours, not on an Instagram picture that didn’t fully capture and present her beauty. You wanted to see her laugh because of you. You wanted her to be with you, and it hurt.

You quickly turned off your phone as you heard footsteps. Rei came in, shining with excitement. She looked stunning. You grinned at her.

“Trying to impress someone?”

Her face turned red, and she looked away from you.

“Uh…um…”

“Is Jiwon coming? Your precious Liz?”

She was cosplaying a tomato at this point, giving you your answer. Liz was a nickname for Jiwon that only Rei had permission to use, and bringing it up was how you could squeeze stuff out of either of them that they were unwilling to divulge at first.

“She is, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Cute. Love the Instagrm post too, by the way.”

“You saw-?”

“Of course.”

“Y/N…”

“I’m not stalking you both! I follow you girls, remember?”

She sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. We should get going now, it’s 6:57.”

You realized how quickly time passed while you were staring at Yujin’s pictures. You stood up and walked out the door, not really expecting anything.

When you reached, the strong smell of alcohol hit your nostrils and you winced, not really liking it. You couldn’t back out now, however, so you just shrugged it off before sitting on the couch in the middle of the living room as people danced, socialized and drank all around you.

You didn’t know anyone at the party on a close basis save for Gaeul, Chaewon, Sakura, Yunjin, Kazuha and of course Rei. You preferred to keep your circle of friends relatively small so that you wouldn’t be involved in any drama, although you liked hearing about it. You always thought it worked effectively, but now you were wondering what it’d be like to be on the dance floor with a few other friends.

Chaewon and Gaeul came over and talked to you at some point, but they had to leave after a while since they were the hosts and had attend to other guests. Chaewon told you that Yunjin and Kazuha didn’t want to come. Sakura was busy, so she couldn’t. Just like Wonyoung, you couldn’t help but think.

You were thirsty and they had arranged some juice in the corner for those who didn’t want to drink. You got off the couch, deciding to let the couple making out nearby have some space. You went over to the table with the juice, and you took a bit of time to choose what you wanted to drink. As you were troubling yourself with this very hard choice, you heard a quiet and groggy voice right behind you.

“Hey, can you pass me a cup of apple juice?”

Extremely familiar voice. Your fingers gripped the plastic cup in your hand tighter.

“Yu…Yujin?”

You turned around, and your guess was right.

There she was in full glory.

She had those headphones on, and was wearing an oversized shirt and sweatpants that looked comfy. You subconsciously tugged at the collar of your dress. Her hair was ruffled, and her eyes were red and puffy along with her face looking sullen, making it obvious that she had been crying before.

“Y-Y/N? I’m sorry, I-I’ll just get-get it my-myself-”

“No, it’s…fine. Apple juice, right?”

The tension was so thick that your 3rd grade English teacher’s ass was (quite literally) shaking. She nodded, and watched you pour her a cup. You could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to say something, and you guessed that it was about the letter.

Suddenly, you could feel her hand on your shoulder, before she gently pulled you close to her as she wrapped her arms around you in one of her familiar and comforting hugs. Her hand was in your hair, stroking it.

“Come, let’s go to my room. I’ll help you calm down.”

You didn’t say anything in protest, instead simply allowing her to take you. The two of you went inside her dorm room, and she closed the door, locking it. Your eyes darted around the four walls you were in, and your mind flashed with memories of that whole year you both had. You set free the tears trapped in the prison that was your eyes. She hugged you tightly again, her voice soothing.

“Y/N, darling, it’s okay, it’s okay. I’m sorry.”

The petname she reserved for you, ‘darling’, slipped out of her mouth, as she always used to use that with you. She froze for a moment, but as she saw that you had no reaction to it, she relaxed. Back then she could call you that unabashedly, but now she had to be careful. You didn’t care though, you loved the way it rolled off her tongue.

After a few minutes, you had finally calmed down. You looked at the plastic cup in your hand, noticing that it was now half empty. You were sure that it was nearly filled to the brim before though. Your eyes trailed to Yujin’s shirt and you saw a few stains on it, solving the mystery of the missing juice. Were your hands really shaking that much?

“Um…sorry about the juice on your shirt.”

“Nevermind it. How do you feel now?”

You slowly moved the cup — now only contaning half of its previous content — to her free hand, but she gently pushed it back and tilted your hand upward, towards your face.

“You drink it.”

“But-”

“Drink.”

She smiled a little at you, and you were mesmerized. You probably looked like an idiot right now, gaping at your ex, but could you really care? She was here, in front of you, smiling at you, and your eyes darted to her lips almost instinctively, missing how they felt on yours.

“Y/N, how do you feel now?”

Obviously, you couldn’t stare forever.

“Better. Thanks Yujin, you…really helped.”

She tilted her head at you endearingly in her usual manner, her smile getting wider, although there was some sadness behind it.

"I missed you."

Her eyes widened, her facial features rearranged into surprise, confusion and a tiny bit of hope.

“You…missed me?”

You looked at your fingers, fiddling with them nervously.

“Uh…sorry if it was a bit inappropriate to say rig-”

“No, no, no- don’t apologize, Y/N.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t mind.”

Her eyes looked deeply into yours, searching for something, searching for an answer. You knew what she wanted, and you took a deep breath.

“I…I read your letter.”

Her eyes widened, and her fingers intertwined with your desperately. You missed the feeling of her hand fitting perfectly into yours badly, and you didn’t realize that until now.

“And…? I’m not going to react harshly to anything you say, I just-just need an ans-”

“I want you back.”

Her eyes were about to pop out of their sockets at this point. Her face was full of disbelief.

“Re…Really?”

“Yeah.”

Gently taking the plastic cup from your hand before setting it on the nightstand near her bed (one you remembered well), she held the other hand too, a silly little smile on her face.

“Y/N, you don’t have to if you don’t wan-”

“But I do. I want you. I want whatever we had. I need it all back.”

Her smile reached her eye, squeezing out a few tears. One of her hands moved from yours to cup your cheek.

“Thank you for giving me another chance, Y/N darling. I was scared of what you’d say, if I’ll be honest.”

You smiled at the familiar nickname, and inched a bit closer until your foreheads were touching. She giggled softly, a sound that warmed your heart.

In a quick movement, you felt her lips on yours in a small yet delicate peck, as if anything more would make you break. She pulled back, looking away shyly. Your eyes were wide, and your face was frozen in shock. Your lips were parted slightly for a moment, before you put a hand on her shirt collar and tugged it, making her jerk forward so that her lips could meet yours again.

Just like that, you both were back in the old times.

164 notes · View notes

lillypad910 · 9 months

Text

His Angel

Pairing: Bi! Eddie Munson x Bi! Christian (Baptist) raised! plus sized! girly! f! Reader

Word count: 10k

Warnings: (this is not pre-read, so it may have errors) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), piv, protected sex (they wrap it), fluff (lots of it mixed in), reader identifies as an atheist after childhood trauma dealing with religious beliefs, pet names (Angel [main], Sweetheart, Baby, Baby girl), use of (y/n) but only with family members.

Summary: You were always a good girl, a good Christian girl who wanted to be loved by your family. But growing up in that house was hard. With two older brothers way older than you, and parents already in their late 50’s, your relationship with your family is… difficult. You were taught that what you are is wrong, but then you fell in love with a certain guitarist who makes you remember that you are worthy of love.

A/n: Came up with this idea a couple days ago (literally right after my last post about having writer’s block), and just went to town on it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!

If you wanna be tagged when I post ask or comment telling me so!

All photos found on Pinterest

You remember your childhood vividly, it wasn’t ‘bad’ for the most of it. Church was a constant play in the workings of your family home. Your mother a youth worker within the church (your church didn’t actually allow her to hold ‘pastor’ as her term), your father an old choir boy, now working a normal 9-5 job in an office building. Your family attended church every Wednesday and Sunday, every Easter, thanksgiving, and Christmas. There was no alcohol allowed in your house, not even during the holidays.

You have two older brothers, both of them were closer in age, only five years apart, while you were ten years apart from the youngest of the two, so you grew up practically on your own. You were raised primarily by your older parents, bother already reaching their 40’s when you were born.

Your oldest brother, Logan, once said in a fit of anger that you were an accident. You didn’t understand at the time, but now that you’re older, you get it.

You’ll never forget that one fated day you sat in your room, you had just turned thirteen a few weeks before. Sarah, your friend from church, someone you’ve known since you were infants, sat across from you. You were making friendship bracelets.

There was something about Sarah, she was just so… so pretty. Her long blond hair always perfectly curled, her gorgeous green eyes you could swear you could stare into for hours.

Elijah, your other friend, a boy from school, had told you that you shouldn’t act on any of your feelings for Sarah. His daddy had told him it was wrong to feel that way, to feel… attracted… to the same gender. But you couldn’t help it.

You had spent many nights sleeping over at Sarah’s and her at yours. As children you would hold hands on the playground. Your parents thought it was cute how close you two were. But as you sat in front of her that day, that beautiful day. The sun setting outside, the shades of purples and blues mixing with the warm orange, of the last golden rays highlighting her hair perfectly. You couldn’t help it.

You kissed her.

It happened so fast, you leaned over, capturing her lips with yours before pulling away. Your heart raced in your chest, beating faster, and faster, and faster. Her beautiful green eyes widened, her expression of shock was even pretty. Did she feel this way too? Did you act to fast? Before you could say anything to her, she quickly stood and ran out of the room. You heard her yell out for your mom as her foot steps made it down the stairs.

Oh no. Oh no no no no!

Your hand slapped against your chest, your heart not slowing as you began to panic. You read it all wrong, all wrong!

It’s all gone wrong. Elijah was right. I should have kept quiet. Held back.

Maybe I can play it off?

Your mother came barging into your room as you picked back up the bracelet quickly. “Hi, Momma!” You gave her a smile. It was so fake, but you just beg the lord she won’t notice. “Dewdrop,” your mother’s voice that day was stern, “did you-“ she cuts herself off, taking a deep breath, as if trying to calm her emotions, “Did you… kiss… Sarah…?”

Your brain had scattered, terrified how she was gonna react. You took too long.

She had snatched you off the rug before you could even say anything else, dragging you by your ear and down the stairs. Her hand raised before you before you could react.

Smack!

It been years since that day, as you now sit at your desk in your room, the pink floral wallpaper from your childhood always and forever familiar.

Tap! Tap!

You look over at your window, your eyes widening as you spot the long curly mop of hair even through the darkness outside. Quickly making your way to your window, opening the pane carefully, your heart racing as you are greeted by the softest, most comforting brown eyes you ever did see. “Eddie!” You whisper yell at him, your voice filled with concern and worry, “what are you doing here? You know my parents can’t see you!”

Eddie is all smiles, his eyes glancing down to your lips, “So? I thought you liked the chance of getting caught?” You roll your eyes, happy you are allowed to lock your door now that you’re older. “So…” he grips his hand tighter on the windowsill, “gonna let your boyfriend in? Or?” You immediately step back, muttering a sorry as you help him throw himself into your room without knocking anything over.

After straightening out his leather jacket and denim vest, he steps closer to you, reaching out and gripping at your nightgown, balling the fabric into his fists. “How’s my beautiful girlfriend?” You can’t help but smile at him, “I’m ok,” your hands slowly move up his chest, your eyes watching your fingers cling at his leather jacket, “how about you, Romeo?” He smiles, leaning in and giving your rosy cheek a peck, “I’ve been good, bored though.” “Oh?” “Mhmm,” His lips pressed soft kisses against your skin, getting closer and closer to your lips, before stopping. “You fucking tease…” you pout, gripping a little tighter at his jacket, making him chuckle. “Oh I’m sorry, did my good girl just swear? In her family home?” “Shut up.”

He pulls away and drops down onto your bed, spreading out across your powder blue duvet. “Come here,” he gestures for you to come lay with him, but you do something he doesn’t entirely expect.

You lift your nightgown, giving him the smallest glimpse of your white panties, the little blue bow on the front catching his eyes’ attention, before climbing over his legs. Your legs sit on either side of his hips, your center lowering just on top of his crotch, making him let out a soft groan. “Happy?” You ask, grinding your hips down and he grips at them quickly, steadying you. “Fucking swear, if you keep doing that-“ “What? You’ll do what, Munson?” Your voice is sugar sweet, faking innocence so well.

“Fuck, gonna make me cream my pants, Angel.” He sits up, adjusting his position so his hands are down on the bed behind him, propping him up. “Oh? Am I too much for you- Ah!” You gasp, cutting your sentence short as you’re flipped over, quickly looking at the door before back up at the guy on top of you. Eddie smirks down at you, his eyes glancing down at your lips. “Never,” he kisses you quickly, “ever,” another kiss, “think you’re too much for me.” He kisses your nose this time, before nuzzling it with his own.

He softly kisses you again, his lips pressing gently to yours, but slowly he picks up, kissing a little more desperately. His lips are slightly chapped, scratching a bit against your perfectly smooth lips. Your heart picks up, breath becoming more unsteady with every smooch. His hands guide down to your hips, pulling your nightgown up and to your waist, making your panties entirely visible. He pulls away, tilting his head down to the view he so desperately loves. “Could stare at you all day, Angel.” He gives you one final kiss before beginning to kiss down your neck. His fingers curl around the hem of your underwear, pulling them down slowly as his kisses travel down your clothed chest and bare stomach.

“All mine,” he hums into your skin, “all for me.” He pulls your underwear past your knees, gripping one of your thighs and pulling your shin and foot through the leg hole. “Gonna kill me one day,” he kisses along your lifted thigh. You feel yourself getting wet from his touch, his kisses sending shivers down your spine. He pulls your panties off your other leg, looking back up at your eyes before pocketing the white pair. “Mine now.” You can’t help but giggle at him, not able to count just how many crusty pairs you’ve gotten back weeks later.

His fingers move to your stomach, his palms kneading into your chubby belly like a ball of dough, before moving lower. A soft gasp leaves your lips, sounding like the most beautiful melody Eddie has ever heard as his fingers slip inside you.

Eddie swears he could watch you take his fingers all day. The way your eyebrows scrunch up, your eyes go blown, your thighs try to press together.

He leans down, brushing his nose against your clit. He watches his fingers thrust in and out of you from such close proximity, before licking your folds. Your hand quickly flies up to cover your mouth as you moan, trying to keep quiet with your parents just down the hall.

“E-Eds…!” You gasp, his free hand pressing your legs farther apart, his hips now rutting into your mattress as he buries his face in your cunt, lapping up your arousal. You let out a soft whimper as your toes curl, your hips now lifting off the bed to push into his face. Eddie removes his fingers from you, now gripping under your thighs and around to your hips, pulling your body into his face more. Your thighs squeeze around his head as you feel yourself release, gripping the duvet under you. Your eyes blur over with a few tears from the feeling, still not entirely used to being pushed to this amount of euphoria.

Your legs softly get set on the bed, a wet spot under you as Eddie climbs back up, placing a soft kiss on your stomach before smiling down at you. “Angel,” he reaches up and cups your face, tilting it to look at him, “You still with me?” It came out with a soft laugh, teasing. “Yeah,” you breathe out, breathe still heavy as you come down from the high, “Yeah, I’m here.” He smiles and pulls your nightgown back down, his obvious erection still poking at your thigh.

You sit up, glancing back at your door before turning back to your secret boyfriend. “Sweetheart,” his voice draw you back in, his fingers wrapping around your chin and pulling you against his chest as he leans back against your pillows, “don’t worry so much, you keep glancing at the door like they hear us.” He kisses your cheek, nuzzling into you. You blush as the only thing you can smell is you. “Eddie,” you quietly groan out his name, practically a whisper. He hums, fumbling with the belt to undo it. You blush as he shimmies his pants and boxers down his hips. You tilt your head to the wall, your blush spreading to your ears.

“Angel,” Eddie places his hands on your back, “look at me.” You pull back and look at him, your heart beating fast.

“You can tell me if you want to stop, Sweetheart. You know that.” He kisses your nose, his fingers slowly moving to ball your nightgown up, letting his warm fingers press to your now bare back. “Do you want to stop?” His voice is calm, no judgment present anywhere. “No… I-I wanna…” your eyes glance at your mirror, giving you sight of your door. Eddie’s eyes soften.

“Angel, you were being all confident earlier, now you’re shrinking and keep looking to make sure your door is shut.” He kisses your nose, making you melt a little into him. He hesitates for a moment, “is it… because of back then…?” You freeze, immediately your head snaps to look at him, his deep brown eyes staring at you with such love.

“Do you wanna sneak out…?” You ask, trying to dodge the reality of your trauma. Eddie’s eyes narrow, “Oh no, you’re talking about it now. You have no choice.” “What? No!” You whisper yell. “Angel,” Eddie pushes you off of him a little, making your eyes widen, the fear of rejection again banging on your heart. He pulls up his pants again, before pulling you back onto him, immediately shushing those thoughts, “Talk to me.”

“I just-“ you hesitate, you let out a deep breath, “I’m scared…” Eddie’s eyes soften, his hands sliding down to your hips, grounding you. “What of?” “Here.” The word comes out tense, your discomfort obvious, but not from him or his actions, just the place. Your room. Your house.

“Baby,” Eddie rubs his thumb over your hip, “We can pick this up tomorrow, we don’t have to-“ “No!” You immediately wince and cover your mouth at your raised voice. “I-I mean…”

A thud comes from across the house. You both freeze.

Shit.

You both scurry to get up, you pulling down your nightgown as he quickly goes to hide in your closet behind your door. You quickly shut your window, unlock your door, and sit at your desk, immediately jumping back up from the cold feeling on your —you shockingly forgot— exposed lower body. You don’t have time to grab another pair of panties so you just tuck your night gown under you and sit.

A knock comes on your door immediately after you sit. “Yes?” You call out. The door opens and your mother pops her head in, “Did you make a loud noise?” You just nod.

“Yeah sorry, I, uh, messed up my paper. Did I wake you?” She hums in response, “technically, but it’s alright. It’s almost midnight, Darling—” the nickname makes you cringe. It’s the same one she called you that day. “— make sure you get some sleep.” She smiles at you, before shutting your door and you hear steps heading back down the hall. You finally let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding.

Eddie sticks his head out, making sure the coast is clear before stepping out. “That was terrifying.” “Yeah no shit, Eds.” You tell him as he steps closer to you, he places his hand on your head and leans down a bit to kiss your hair. “I’ll see you tomorrow, ok?” You look up at him, “but-!” “No buts, Angel. You’re too stressed here, I’m gonna sneak you out of class tomorrow and take you somewhere more private. Then we can finish what we started.” He lets you lay your head onto his stomach for a moment.

“Fine…” you hate that he’s right. Your room hasn’t been a ‘safe space’ since you were thirteen. He gives your head one more kiss before climbing back out your window.

You and Eddie run out of the school, hand in hand, adrenaline pumping through you as you both book it to his van. It was only 12:35pm, luckily for both of you, your lunch had just started, so it was easy to walk out of ‘class’, class being the cafeteria with an annoyed teacher by the doors who doesn’t care that you leave.

You both slip into his van, giggling as you pull out one of the cassettes from his glove compartment and pop it in, Metallica immediately filling the van. “So, I was thinking, food first, maybe milkshakes at Benny’s, then maybe park somewhere?” Eddie pulls the car out of the spot in the lot. “Sounds good to me.”

You pull up to Benny’s, immediately seeing the girl you’ve had a solid crush on for two years was working. “Eds, it’s her!” You practically slap your hand over his chest. “Holly shit- uh, do I look ok? Cute?” “Always.” Eddie’s smile was genuine, but you glare at him slightly, “I don’t want ‘always’ I need an opinion!” Eddie chuckles as he watches you step out of his car, straightening your dress. “Sweetheart, I feel like she’s not gonna care-“ “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

You both step into the diner, Eddie holding the door open for you. “Take a seat anywhere!” Her voice calls out. You both take a booth by the window, Eddie giving you the side that best angles you to always be able to see her. “You’re always so supportive and I love you for it.” He smiles at your admission. “Can’t do anything without my permission, Angel.” “I know.”

“Hi, I’m Chris, I’ll be your server,” the girl you practically drool over pulls out a pen and her serving note pad, “What can I get you both?” She asks, glancing at you first before Eddie. Eddie watches you, your eyes practically glittering and he tries not to laugh. “A double cheeseburger for me, please. No onions. Sparkle over there will have a short stake of chocolate chip pancakes, two scrambled eggs with cheese and a bowl of grits, butter and cheese in that too.” The girl, Chris, smiles at him, impressed he knows the girl across from him—you—so well. “And to drink?” She just looks to Eddie this time, “Two chocolate milkshakes, and two waters. She’ll also have a cup of coffee, vanilla creamer.”

You snap out of your gaze after she begins to walk away, “Wait, what? What happened?” “You spaced.” “What!?” You look over at him, “It’s ok, Angel, I ordered for you.” You give him a soft smile. “Oh yeah? What did you order me?” “You’ll see.”

When the food arrives to the table you practically have your mouth watering on the table at the array of food, especially thankful for the cup of coffee. “I love you, you take such good care of me.” You pretend to wipe a tear from your eye. “Hmm.”

As you both eat, Eddie randomly slaps his hand down on the table, then excessively taps it, not loud enough to grab the attention of others, just you. “Oh my-“ you look up at him and see he’s looking towards the door. You turn and see a young man walking in, his long hair and attire very similar to the boy sitting across from you. “Eddie, sweetie, you’re gay is showing.” You hold your straw as you take a sip of your shake, staring at your boyfriend. “Says the girl who drools over the waitress.” Eddie shoots back. You place your hand over your heart, “you wound me, Eds.”

“Is he cute? He’s cute. Shit.” Eddie’s cheeks suddenly turn red, making you laugh. “Now who’s drooling-” “I’m not drooling…!” Eddie blushes.

When you both finish your food, you get back in his van and he drives to a secluded spot, parking behind an abandoned shopping center that no one even drives by anymore. You sit there for a moment thinking about how to initiate, before your boyfriend quickly pulls himself through the seats and into the trunk of his van.

Eddie adjusts the blankets and pillows he shoved back there earlier that morning, watching as you squeeze yourself through the seats following him. He pulls you straight onto his lap, lifting your dress up so your thighs are exposed to his hands. “I love you,” his voice is soft, pulling you in and making you swoon. “I love you more,” you wrap your arms around his neck, leaving soft kisses on his lips before moving down his jaw and neck.

Eddie’s fingers grip tighter on your thighs, nails digging into the soft skin. You exhale a soft sigh. “You’re so fucking perfect,” Eddie speaks first, grinding your hips down on his crotch, “Want you so bad, been thinking about it all day.” You giggle softly, nuzzling your nose into his cheek as you enjoy the feeling of his growing tent in his pants.

“Yeah?” You ask, nibbling at his earlobe before pulling away. He groans, annoyed you stopped but glides his hands up under your dress. “I love that you wear dresses, I don’t care if it’s technically for your mom, it gives me the perfect access to you,” his hands massage the fat on your sides, digging his thumbs in your skin, “should take it off though, don’t wanna get it dirty.”

You grip the hem of your dress and pull it over your head, your bra now visible to him. He lifts his hands up your skin and cup his fingers around the garment. You look into his eyes as you watch him continue to stare at your body, his pupils blown, making his comforting brown eyes look black. You grab his vest and jacket and help him slide it off his arms, throwing them both to the side. He yanks off the Hellfire shirt before smashing his lips onto yours, kissing you with such passion.

He pulls back, shimmying down his pants while you quickly pull off your underwear. Before the fabric is even entirely off your legs, you’re pulled back onto his lap, your back facing him this time, you look down and immediately blush. His cock is perfectly placed between your thighs, the red tip sticking out and tapping against your stomach with every twitch. “E-Eddie,” you reach back and cup his head from behind you as he grips tightly at your hips, grinding you against his length, his shaft rubbing against your clit.

“Wanna grab us a condom from behind my seat?” He asks. You nod, pulling away from him and reaching down. Eddie swears he would do it raw if he could confirm you wouldn’t get pregnant, but your parents would never allow you on birth control. You grab one of the foils and climb back up against him, opening your legs so his cock is accessible and rolling the condom down. “Relax, Angel, I’ve got you,” he kisses your cheek before lifting your hips, his cock practically jumping to press against you.

You gasp as you’re slowly pulled down, your cunt sheathing his cock without much resistance. Before long, your ass presses back on his crotch, his length fully in you. “You ok?” He asks, hearing your breath picking up. You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. He reaches up and tilts your head back to him, making you look at him, “use your words, Baby.” “I’m ok.”

Before too long your feet are planted against the bed of his van, your hips moving up and down, up and down, as you bounce yourself on him. His hands grip tightly at your waist, his soft groans giving you praise as you try not to just cum on him. “Baby,” his voice pulls you back in, making you whimper. He lifts you off of him, before turning you back around, making you straddle his lap again before going back down. His hands move down your thighs, until one slopes just below your belly, his thumb finding your clit. You crumble at the sudden addition, your head falling to his shoulder.

Eddie loves watching his little Angel crumble because of him. Watching your body shake as your thighs clench, your hands balling into fists on his chest as you try your damn best not to explode, not wanting him to stop. “Come on, Angel,” he whispers into your ear, leaving small kitten licks over your lobe, “cum for me, Baby, need to feel you cum.”

His lips press to the corner of your mouth, “Come on, Baby girl, wanna feel you, need to feel you cum.” His fingers rub harder into your clit, making you moan. Before long you’re gasping as you cry, your boyfriend thrusting up into you as your body shakes. Eddie kisses your cheeks, nose and forehead as your thighs squeeze at his hips, your body releasing around him. “There we go, such a good girl, doing so good for me, Angel,” Eddie kisses your lips as you feel his thighs getting sticky from your arousal.

He shuffles, slowly and carefully laying you back in the bed of the van, onto a blanket with a couple pillows behind your head. He doesn’t leave you, careful to not disconnect your bodies. He climbs over you, pushing your legs out and around his waist. He kisses your hairline, slowly beginning to thrust into you. Your whimpers and moans fill the air around you, his hips moving slow at first before picking up pace.

You brush his hair away from his face before pulling him closer and kissing him, your lips moving in perfect sync. His fingers dig into your hips, holding you steady as he goes a little harder.

It doesn’t take long till you cum again, this time he fucks you through it even harder, not stopping or slowing. His groans sound so hypnotic, like a praise leaving his lips without actual words. He thrusts one final time, holding his hips hard against yours as you feel his cock twitch inside you, his face scrunching as he finishes into the condom.

Eddie drops down, his lips pressing to yours repeatedly, before pulling out. Your legs shakily drop to the floorboard, cunt clenching around nothing as you try to come down from your high. He pulls off the condom, ties it off before dropping it between the seats. He pulls up his jeans and boxers before slipping your underwear back up your legs. “You did such a good job, Angel,” Eddie kisses your eyelids, before leaving a soft kiss on your lips, “I’m so proud of you.”

You can’t stop yourself from blushing as he pulls you onto his chest, laying down with you in the blankets. He snuggles into your hair, kissing your head as you smile from his kisses. “You enjoy this too much,” you enquire, giggling a little when he kisses your nose. “I do, but it’s not my fault my girl is so beautiful when she’s coming down from an orgasm.” You roll your eyes, but not in an annoyed way, you enjoy his teasing.

You don’t know what got into you as you climb down the lattice outside your window. You were never a disobedient child growing up, but for some reason you still climb down one foot after the other, time reaching 8pm as you hit the ground.

You turn to see your beautiful curly haired boyfriend grinning ear to ear at you. “I can’t believe you’re actually doing this. I’m a bad influence on you.” You glare at him but don’t deny it, cause he is. “I didn’t know what to wear, so I hope you brought something for me to change into.”

Eddie smirks as he grabs your hand, pulling you down the street and to his parked van. He opens the back, showing the few t-shirts he brought from his closet. “Pick one. Any one.” He smiles at you. You grab one of them climbing into the back before he shuts the doors behind you.

You quickly pull off your frilly floral shirt, chunking it to the side of the van, before slipping the Metallica shirt over your head. It’s a little snug, but you don’t hate it. You quickly pull your hair up in a ponytail with the red scrunchy on your wrist.

Climbing to the front, Eddie already half way there to the bar, you sit yourself in the passenger seat, quickly pulling a lipstick you stuck in your pocket and pulling down the visor to see your reflection. You apply the red lipstick, a much deeper color than you usually wear.

Eddie glances over, watching you apply the makeup. He had to be careful with staring, picturing those now perfectly red lips smothering his cock with kisses, leaving lipstick all over his shaft-

“Eddie?” You call out to him, and he looks at you again for a quick second. “Yeah?” “I just remembered I’ve never met the guys.”

It’s true, you’ve been dating for maybe 6 months, but it’s entirely secret to people you both know personally. Eddie had asked you to come to the show tonight because he wants you to meet them. The guys: Gareth, Jeff, and Kevin. He wants you to attend Hellfire meetings, meet Dustin, the kid he practically took under his wing, have you attend his shows, meet his uncle. He doesn’t want you to be a secret anymore to his side of life.

“Then you’ll get to meet them.”

Eddie and you pull up to The Hideout Tuesday night. You’re nervous pick up as he parks the van. “Hey,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand, “I appreciate you wanna see me play, Angel. But if you’re uncomfortable, I can take you home.” You shake your head.

You’ve been looking forward to watching him play live for months, and nows your chance. Besides, he’s already snuck you out of your house, you might as well enjoy it.

Eddie opens the car door for you, helping you out of your seat before holding your hand as you walk inside through the back entrance.

You hear laughing and talking coming from around the corner, and before long you’re dragged into a room with three boys you recognize from classes. “Hey, guys.” Eddie greets them. They all turn to you both, the messy haired blond tilting his head first. “Who’s that?” He asks. Eddie looks at you, and you look at him, your eyes more nervous than his but his soft eyes comfort you.

“Angel,” he simply says. The guys stay silent for a moment, before gasping and running up closer. “Holly shit!” You know this one, Jeff from Chemistry, practically screams as he reaches for your hand, “You’re like a whole myth at our lunch table!” You blush as it dawns in you.

He talks about you. Eddie talks about you to his friends, he might not have told them who you were until this very moment, but god damnit, he talks about you.

“Eddie can’t shut up about his ‘Sweet Angel’ practically fawning over you every lunch period.” The blond follows. “Refuses to clean his shirt of lipgloss or lipstick before school just so we’ll ask about it. Fucking bastard.” The bigger guy slaps Eddie over the head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault, I mean look at her. Can you blame me?” Eddie is practically glowing, his smile bigger than you’ve even seen it, and that’s saying something. “Wait,” Jeff looks at you for a minute, squinting his eyes. “Chemistry right? You sit towards the front?” You nod, “yeah, Jeff right?” You smile at him. “Yeah, shit, almost didn’t recognize you. Not in your usual floral dresses tonight.” “Yeah, kinda not supposed to be out past 7,” you explain easily. “Your family goes to Franklin Baptist right?” You nod.

“Damn got yourself a religious girl, Eddie?” The blond snickers to himself. You glance up at Eddie before looking back at him. Jeff speaks before you can, “The asshole is Gareth, that’s Kevin.” He points to them respectively. “Nice to meet you, and no. I’m uh, actually atheist. Just… raised Christian.” You hold your hands together in front of you.

“Hey,” a guy pops his head in from a door heading out to the bar, “on in five.” He dips out before anyone replies. “Well,” Eddie turns to you and takes your hand holding it up to his lips, “how about you go out there and sit by the bar? Get some water or something, watch us play.” His lips press a soft kiss to your knuckles making you blush, “ok.”

You sit on one of the stools by the bar, a glass of water in hand as the announcer introduces the next band. “And up next to the stage is Corroded Coffin!” A couple people yell out, raising their glasses up in the air, but not too many.

Then they all step out, the cute guy you know so well with his guitar on his front, stepping up to the front mic with such grace. “How are we all doing tonight?” His voice booms through the room and a few people again holler out, “We are Corroded Coffin, and to start the night off good, Id like to dedicate this first song to the lovely girl in the Metallica shirt by the bar. Lookin’ good, Angel!” He gestures to Jeff who immediately starts his rhythm on the guitar, Gareth following soon after on drums.

Oh my.

“Mmm, yeah!” Eddie jumps in before letting them play a bit longer. Kevin joining in with his guitar.

No he’s not.

Then they all begin it. “Ha!” Eddie continues, and the guys follow with “Do do do dodo dodo do do, do do do dodo dodo!” They repeat it a couple times before Eddie jumps back in. “Tonight… I wanna give it all to you!”

Oh no he IS.

You feel your cheeks heat up, instantly closing your eyes as you try not to giggle. “In the daaarkness… there’s so much I want to do-o-o,” both Jeff and Gareth lean into their mics “And tonight,” all three of them sing before Eddie continues on his own, “I wanna lay it at your feet,” he points directly at you, stopping his own playing to continue with the next lyric, “‘cause, Girl, I was made for you, and girl, you were made for me!” Eddie can’t help his grin, watching you trying to not die from embarrassment in the corner, “Hit it!” He yells before all the guys jump in to continue the song.

“I was made for lovin’ you, Baby! You were made for loving me! And I can’t get enough of you, Baby! Can you get enough of me?”

You cover your face but peek out through your fingers as you watch them finish the rest of the song. You have to sit through the rest of the set, trying not to giggle to yourself after the choice of an opener.

When Eddie finally meets back up with you, nearly two hours later, you glare at him through your third glass of water, “I hate you.” Eddie chuckles before throwing his arm over your shoulders, kissing your forehead, “no you don’t. You love me.”

You take a deep breath, trying to make the redness in your face go away, still not over the first song of the show. “How long,” you look up at him, sitting your glass down on the counter, “have you had that planned?” “Uh,” Eddie looks over at the backstage door before turning back to you, “couple months.” His cheeks tint, obviously embarrassed by the admission. “Eds, I told you I wanted to come to the show three days ago,” you smile at him, “and I know damn well that’s not in your original set, I’ve seen the original set list, Eddie.” You can’t help the goofy grin that pulls at the corners of your mouth.

“Might have convinced the guys the day you told me to knock out the original opener to fit the one we practiced for you…” he admits. You laugh, a solid hearty laugh, not a giggle, not a chuckle, a full on laugh. A snort finds its way in, catching you off guard. Eddie joins in immediately after it happens, covering his mouth as he tries not to do the same.

You both laugh for a good minute, just cackling to yourselves as you try to calm down. When you finally catch your breath, you speak up first, “Those poor boys, you just tortured them for the last couple of days.” He nods, his hand on your arm as he holds his stomach, “yeah, they hated me the last few days.”

You didn’t stick around too long, not wanting to test your luck with your parents and your empty bedroom. You both walk out of the bar, his arm over your shoulder, both of you giggling as you press your hand into his chest.

“(Y/n)?” A deep voice makes you freeze. Your heart stopping as you refuse to look up. “(Y/n)?” Eddie looks over at the speaker, a man who looks so similar to you, but he’s older, at least 10 years. “Can I help you?” Eddie asks, his hand gripping tighter on your shoulder. You look up and there he is.

It’s happening again.

“Yeah, you can let go of my little sister, creep.” Logan, your oldest brother, glares at Eddie, his eyes sharp and narrow. Eddie slowly lifts his hand from your shoulder, obviously just not wanting to anger the guy who’s nearly twice his size. You sigh, “Logan, he’s fine.” You place your arms over your chest, gripping your arms tightly. Logan looks at you then back at Eddie, “why are you with this guy? Who is he?” Logan steps closer, still on edge.

You take a deep breath. Here we go.

“His name is Eddie,” you tell him, looking up at him, “he’s not a creep, he’s my boyfriend, Logan.” Logan hesitates for a moment, “boyfriend? Since when did you get a boyfriend? Mom and dad know?” He scoffs when you stay silent, “take that as a no,” he looks at Eddie, glancing over his form, his clothes, hair. He’s judging him.

“So what do you do? Besides take my underaged sister to a bar.” You roll your eyes at his question. “His band plays here every week. We didn’t drink, I had a couple glasses of water, Logan.” You glare at him, getting pissed off. Logan hums in response, looking Eddie up and down, “glad you are actually dating a guy,” he speaks, “mom’s gonna be pissed he’s not from church though.”

You think for a moment, then raise a brow, “Why are you here?” Logan hesitates but you speak again before he can reply, “It’s a bar, Logan, if you thought I was drinking but I’m underaged, what am I supposed to think about you? A guy of thirty-three, past the legal drinking age? What is mom gonna think about that?”

You don’t know what got into you. Maybe it was the way your boyfriend was will to embarrass you in front of a decent crowd, maybe how he talked about you to his friends even though your relationship was supposed to be secret. Maybe it’s how he didn’t falter in front of his friends, kept staying near you and showing you love and affection. Maybe it was just… Eddie.

You glance over at the brunette standing next to you, noticing how his eyes never leave your brother, nervous. Sweet Eddie. “Go tell mom.” You suddenly say, Logan looks at you a little shocked. “She was gonna have to find out eventually, at least now I can tell her that her perfect oldest son drinks. She might actually worry about you more than me.”

“Hmm,” Logan hums before continuing to make his way towards the door, stopping right next to you, “you go down, I go down too? I’ll hold you to that.” He makes his way into the bar.

You both drive back to your street with no further problems. Eddie parks his van a street down, turning off the headlights to not get any attention drawn to you both.

“So…” Eddie mumbles out, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, “That was interesting.” You scoff lightly, leaning your head back on the headrest. “I swear, if he rats me out, he’s done for.” Your voice sounds more joking than anything, but you aren’t. “Mom hates alcohol that much?” He chuckles a bit, leaning back against his own seat and looking over at you, a small smile on his lips. “Oh completely. My parents are Baptist, Eds, alcohol is a sin to them, they refuse to even have it in the house.” “Didn’t Jesus like… turn water into wine?” You shrug, “who knows why, I’ve questioned that my entire life.”

“Logan is the oldest, right?” You nod, “yep, fifteen years older than me,” you look over and smile at him. “You mentioned once you didn’t know your brothers that well growing up,” Eddie reaches over and grabs your hand. You take a deep sigh, “yeah, since I was born when Logan was fifteen, Noah, my other brother,” you give his hand a squeeze, “the middle kid, was ten. I was an accident, not planned.”

He runs his thumb over the back of your hand, listening to you. “You know how Christians are, against abortion and all. I was closest to Noah growing up, but even that felt more like a babysitter, not a brother. Logan acts like my brother now that I’m older, but when we were kids, he was just…” you stop, raising his hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his fingers. Eddie moves his hand, letting it cup around your face.

“Angel,” Eddie calls out to you, making you look at him, “It’s gonna be ok.” He gives you a soft smile, which you return. “I love you.” The words slip out of your lips naturally, little butterflies in your stomach.

You don’t know why. You’ve said those words to each other hundreds of time already, but for some reason it feels… different. It’s not just a quick phrase, a sentimental thing you say to make you and him feel good. You mean it. With all of your heart. You love him.

Eddie’s smile grows a bit bigger, “I love you.” His beautiful chocolate brown eyes gaze at you with such love you feel it. You know he means it with everything he has. You could stare at those eyes all day, hopefully one day you can.

In the morning, you sit with your family at breakfast. Your mother plates everyone food, which you help her set the table. “Oh, darling, set up a fourth setting,” your mother instructs you, “Logan is going to be here any minute.” “What?” You turn quickly to her, a tinge of discomfort in your stomach. “Logan. He’s going to be joining-“ The door bell rings.

Oh shit.

“I’ve got it!” Your father gets up and goes to answer the door, “Logan, good to see you, son!” Your oldest brother steps inside the house, hugging your father. “Hey, Pops,” Logan departs from the front door, entering the dinning space, where you stand and your mother brings out some plates and sits them down on the table. “Logan!” Your mother smiles, quickly pulling her oldest child into a hug.

“Hey, Momma, thanks for having me such short notice,” he smiles, parting from her before turning to you, “Hey, (y/n).” He holds out his arms, and you hesitate before hugging him. You don’t want to tip off your mom.

After everyone has a plate at their seat and the table is decorated in platters of pancakes, eggs, grits, and so much more, Momma really went all out, you all take your seats. “So, Logan dear,” your mom smiles at her pride and joy of a child, “we heard about Susan from Cindy at church. Why didn’t you tell us?” You look between your mother and brother, a little confused.

You know Susan, that’s Logan’s wife. You met her a couple times, a little grossed out because she is 23, closer to your age than to Logan’s. You know Cindy to be a gossip at church, her spreading the ‘rumor’— as your mother referred to it—of you kissing Sarah all those years ago.

“What happened with Susan?” You ask, making your mother to turn to you. “She was found sneaking around with Gabriel a couple months ago, apparently the affair has been going on for a year. Your brother here,” she points to Logan, “requested an annulment for the marriage with the state and church because of the adultery.” You can tell from her raising voice she’s furious about the whole affair.

“It was approved last week.” Logan informs you all, “She signed the papers only a couple days ago, no arguments made. I’m letting her keep the house, so I’m gonna get an apartment close by, so thought I’d come visit for a couple days while looking.” Your mother practically gasps with glee at the news, “So you’re gonna be closer to home? How wonderful!”

That’s the last thing you need, another set of eyes out in public watching out for you.

“Isn’t… divorce a sin…?” You ask, not trying to incriminate your brother, not at all, just genuinely confused as to why your mother would allow it, or even be happy about it. “Technically,” your father speaks, your mother finishing for him, “But only without proper cause. That whores affair is proper enough.” You nearly chock on your juice as your mother’s phrasing.

“Momma!” You yell at her, staring at her utterly shocked, “You can’t just-“ “Why not? She cheated on my baby with someone inside the church!” Your father just nods along. You look over at Logan, he’s nearly just as shocked as you are.

“You shouldn’t call her that, Momma,” Logan takes a sip from his coffee, recovering from the display, “She was still my wife.” Your mother looks a little hurt from his intervention, sagging back into her chair as if she’s a toddler being told they have to eat their veggies.

“Your mother is allowed to be upset, Logan,” your father speaks out, looking up at your brother, “just like (y/n) can speak her mind, and you can speak yours.”

Such bullshit. Your opinions never mattered growing up, do they suddenly now because you’re older?

“I need to head out to school,” you explain, standing up and taking your plate. You clean off the dish in the sink, before walking by the table again, hugging your mother and kissing your father’s cheek. “I’ll see you later today.”

The next few days are uneventful, just back and forth with school, your mother bickering you about your future, and your perfect brother hogging the bathroom. Until Saturday.

You sit in your room, changing out of your day clothes and grabbing the nightgown from the basket of clean clothes. The warm air from the weather comes in through your open window, perfectly creating that warmer atmosphere.

“I’d say keep it off.” You jump back from the sudden words spoken out, your eyes immediately darting to the window where your metal head dork of a boyfriend sits halfway in. “You scared me, Eddie…!” You whisper, “you shouldn’t be here, everyone is probably still awake.” He just shrugs at your warning.

“So who’s the car outside? It’s not your dad’s and your mom doesn’t have one herself,” he asks, moving in closer to you, pulling your nightgown from your hands and pulling you to him, your bare chest pressing to his t-shirt. “It’s Logan’s, you dingbat. And if he sees you here he might not be so keen on keeping you a secret.”

“Eh, I’ll be out before anyone notices. Though I should really teach you a thing of two about actual creeps,” he kisses your cheek, his hands pressing to your back, “maybe then you’ll learn to shut your window when you’re changing.” You roll your eyes, “you’re a jerk, Munson.” He chuckles, pushing you back onto your bed, immediately pushing at your knees to frame your legs around his waist, laying into you. “A jerk? Me?” He kisses you softly before traveling little kisses down your neck, “A tease maybe, but never a jerk, Angel.”

Your breathing gets heavy as he moves down your chest, cupping one breast in his hand before taking the other into his mouth. “Eds,” you blush, gripping at his shoulders as his cold fingers graze over your nipple. “Hmm?” “My…” you can’t help but feel your panties start getting wet, “my brother is home, and my family is still awake- mm!” You bite your lower lip, muffling the soft moan that leaves you when his teeth bite down on your hard bud.

“You can be quiet,” Eddie smirks, pulling away from your torso, “Don’t you wanna be a good girl? Be quiet for me?” You hate how he knows that shit works.

He pushes your throw pillows off your bed, pulling back the covers. “Don’t be too loud or we’ll be found, ok?” He goes lower under the sheets, right where you want him, pulling your underwear down your legs. You cover your mouth as you feel his tongue glide across your core, his fingers brushing your folds out of the way. Two digits break your entrance, making you whimper as you grab his long curls with your free hand. “E-Eds…!” You try to be quiet, your body reacting quickly to his actions.

“Go on, let it out, Angel.” His approval sends you over the edge way too soon, your thighs squeezing his head as you finish, gasping for air. Eddie leaves little kitten licks before pulling away from you. “I’m proud of you,” he leans up and kisses your neck, the smell of you very prominent on his lips. “Oh?” You lean into his kisses, just letting him do as he pleases, “why is that?”

“You may have mentioned how people are home or they’re awake, but you haven’t looked at that door once, Angel.” He smiles down at you. And he’s right, you haven’t.

Sure you’ve mentioned worry, but there is no real fear this time. Your body is completely reacting only to Eddie, sweet Eddie. Your Eddie.

“I haven’t have I?” You smile back at him, not even looking now, even though it’s been pointed out to you, “Maybe you’re a bad influence.” Eddie smiles, placing a quick kiss to your lips before stripping himself down bare, fisting himself a little once finished. “Don’t know what you think you’re doing with that without-“

Eddie digs into his jacket pocket before throwing it down and pulls out a condom, holding it up to your face. “I come prepared, my lady, no need to worry.” You hum in response, watching him rip open and roll on the condom. Once it’s on, he quickly holds at your thighs, taking no time to slowly push himself deep into you.

“Not gonna lie, Angel,” he sighs as his cock bottoms out, “I’ve been looking forward to ducking you into your white sheets for months.” You blush as he starts to move, a soft moan leaving you as his hips roll into yours. “Could fuck this pussy all day, like a fucking drug,” he kisses your cheek. You bite your lip trying to not moan, but each thrust presses that perfect spot as he knows your body just all too well.

“Eddie…” you whimper out his name, your ankles crossing behind his back. His thrusts stay slow, sensual, easing you into it as the knot already forms in your stomach. He’s gonna be the death of you one day.

He lays his head on your shoulder, tilting it downward so he can watch the place your bodies intersect, watching his cock thrust in and out of you achingly slow. “Eddie, please,” you mutter out a beg, wanting him to pick up speed, to just put you out of your misery, but he doesn’t. “Not yet, baby girl,” he kisses you once, twice, three time before staring down at you, “gonna fuck you nice a slow, watch you get sensitive before letting you finally cum.”

He does this for a good thirty minutes, making you get testy as you cling to him, wanting him to just fuck you harder. “Eddie, please.” He picks up the pace, thrusting his hips into you a little harder. You gasp, the feeling sending you so close to your climax you have to fully concentrate to not finish. “Eds..!” You grip at his shoulders.

“Go on, Baby, cum for me.” You do, harder than you’ve ever before. Your eyes water, thighs clenching around his hips as you let out the most erotic sounds. After that it only takes him a few more thrusts before he’s whimpering out an orgasm of his own, hiding his face in your hair.

You stay like that for a moment, just both catching your breath. After a few minutes he pulls away, tying the condom and dropping it in the trash can under your desk. He slips back on his boxers before climbing back onto the bed, it shifts under his weight. You turn over to him as he lays next to you, pulling the covers over you both.

“I really enjoyed that.” You speak first, pulling the pillow under your head closer. Eddie smiles at you, his body fully turned in your direction, laying on his side. His hand lifts and pushes a few loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “Yeah?” To which you nod. “I did do,” he follows up.

You feel your cheeks heat up as you hide your face into the pillow, feeling butterflies flutter around in your stomach. “Like, I really liked that,” you hope the tone expresses what you mean. You didn’t just like it, you loved it.

Eddie can’t stop the corners of his mouth from lifting, watching you hide your face, your ears turning red from your flush. He leans over and places a soft kiss against your hair. “I really liked that, too,” he emphasizes the same word and you groan as you curl into your blankets more, making him chuckle.

“Angel,” his hand presses against your bare back, his warm fingers running up and down your bare skin. It’s not sexual, just soft, comforting, like home. “I love you, so fucking much,” his voice falters a bit, immediately gravitating your attention. You snap your head up, seeing his eyes looking so soft, so loving. It makes you wanna cry.

But you don’t, taking in a shaky breath as you shift closer to him, pressing your head against his chest. “I love you, Eddie Munson. So much.” You nuzzle your face into his skin, your hands making their way around his torso, pushing him to lay on his back with you on top of him. “You make me so happy,” you mumble, leaving a couple kisses against his bare chest.

Then your door opens. The creaking of the hinges the first thing you hear before it’s followed with “Darling, do you have-“ your mother’s head pops into the doorframe, your whole world crashing as she makes direct eye contact with you.

The door bursts open, the knob banging into the wall loudly, making you jump. “Momma!” You yell out, pulling the blankets up your shoulders. She does say anything, which is somehow scarier. She just stomps farther in, gripping her fists around your powder blue comforter before yanking it back. Thankfully, Eddie sees this about to happen before you do, and grips tighter at the sheets underneath to keep you just covered.

“What in the hell is this!?” Your mother’s voice booms out, your eyes shutting tight as you flinch at her loud voice. “Momma-“ “No. Don’t ‘Momma’ me! I knew we were being too easy with you! Honey!” She walks back out, stomping her feet angrily, calling out to your father, as she makes her way down the stairs.

You both scurry out of the bed, your heart racing, “no no no no!” You quickly snatch your underwear off the floor slipping them on and following with your nightgown, Eddie doing the same with his jeans and tee. “This is so bad, this is really bad…!” You follow after her as quickly as possible, Eddie following after you.

You reach the bottom of the stairs, booking it into the dining room where your mother is already telling your father, “Momma, please, just listen-!” You feel your eyes watering, genuinely terrified as to what will happen next. “You’re… tramp of a daughter had a boy-” Eddie enters the room and your mother gestures to him aggressively, as if his presence fuels her anger more, “this boy in her room! I found them entangled together!” Your mother looks absolutely mortified.

“Please just let me explain!” You quickly cut in, looking at your father with those little doe eyes you know he can’t deny. Your father sighs, glancing at your mother then back at you then his gaze shifts to behind you, at Eddie. “Explain.” Your mother scoffs at him, “There’s nothing to explain! He’s ruined her! I can’t have another scandal with this family! Logan is already dealing with his divorce!” Your mother’s voice shakes with rage, you can feel her blood boiling from where you stand, “What will the church think?”

Your father sighs. “Sweetheart,” his eyes set on you, the same ones that used to calm you as a child, “Who is this boy?” You hesitate but straighten up your posture, glad to be given the chance. “Daddy,” you reach other to Eddie and grab his arm, pulling him forward, “This is Eddie, he’s my boyfriend.” Your mother lets out a cold laugh at this, but says nothing.

Your father takes a deep breath but before he can speak, a voice draw the attention of everyone in the room. “Oh, hey, Eddie? Good to see you again, man.”

Logan steps into the room, walking straight up to Eddie, taking his hand in his own and shaking it. “I didn’t know you were meeting everyone tonight.” He looks over at you, obviously a little confused.

“I-“ Eddie goes to speak, but your mom interrupts him. “I found him in your sister’s room, Logan. In her bed!” Logan tries not to show any drastic emotions to this news, but you catch his eye twitch. “Ah, yeah I can see where you’d consider that a problem,” he rubs the back of his neck.

“You know this boy, son?” Your father asks, pointing to Eddie, but his eyes fixed on your brother. “Yeah,” Logan speaks, looking at you one more time before shifting his gaze to your nervous boyfriend, “met him a while ago, he’s a good kid.” He pats Eddie’s shoulder. “Found out he was dating (y/n) not too long ago. They make a cute couple don’t they?” He smiles at you.

Your father looks Eddie over, “You believe in God, boy?” “Yes, sir.” Eddie speaks up decently fast, not taking any chances, but you know damn well his belief is questionable. Then the older man looks back at you, his eyes physically softening.

Your father’s always had a sweet spot for you, getting defensive when your mother would beat you for stupid things. You’re his ‘god’s blessing,’ probably the only person in this house to feel that way. And that’s what made you favor him over your mother.

“Does he treat you right? Doesn’t hit you or anything?” You smile at him, “No, sir, he’s kind and sweet. Treats me well.” You keep it simple and straight to the point. He looks back over at Eddie before continuing, “Do you love ‘em?” “Ha!” Your mother laughs, “love him? Honey, she doesn’t know-” “Yes.” You cut her off, your arms squeezing tighter on Eddie’s, “love him with all my heart, Daddy.”

Your father sighs. “If Logan thinks he’s good enough I don’t see why we should have a problem with him.” Your mother squeaks, flabbergasted by your father’s words, “because he was in her bed? This is a Christian household! I will not let a teen pregnancy tarnish this family!” “You use condoms?” The question was directed at Eddie this time, making you both flush red. “Y-Yes, sir.” “Then that’s that.” Your father stands, coming over and patting Eddie on the shoulder, “nice to meet you, Eddie,” before walking out of the room, your mother chasing after him.

You, Eddie, and Logan all stand there for a moment, a little shook after the very direct question. Logan speaks first, turning to you both. “You two are fucking stupid.” He speaks through his teeth, but he’s not angry, he’s trying not to laugh, “my God, really? At home? Come on.” He lets out a soft chuckle. “I better get something from that talk, cause Jesus save me, that was awful.” “I’ll get you a free drink at the Hideout,” Eddie follows quietly, which you just look at him. “Deal. After that shit show, I’ll fucking need it, but that’s just your payment,” Logan turns to you, “you owe me, kid. Jesus, now you know why I drink.”

Tag list:

@cagethemunson @spikeybatt @cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

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training4theapocalypse · 4 months

Text

a fine wee lass, a bonnie wee lass ch.1

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish x Fem Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 2k

Warnings / Tags: Smut, infidelity, size difference, references to previous underage romance (when they were both teens).

Summary: You're the bridesmaid at your brother’s wedding and his best man, John MacTavish is back in town. You just hope he doesn't remember when you last saw him, when you tried with all your might to stop him from joining the army.

A/N: I've not played COD since like 2012 but I keep seeing clips of Soap on TikTok and my wee Scottish heart just fancies the pants off him. This is inspired by a Scottish folk song called 'Bonnie Wee Jeannie McCall'. The dialogue is written in Scots - I hope you can follow along.

ALSO I just found out about @glitterypirateduck’s challenge by a happy accident the day after I wrote this and this fits nicely into:

Prompt 28: They don't need to know

Masterlist (there’s no other COD stuff here sorry)

Chapter 1: The first night I met her she was awfy, awfy shy

You pull your shawl around you as you stand outside the old castle. Rain lashes down across the sprawling Falkirk countryside while revellers laugh from the wedding inside. The music hasn’t started yet - you think that you’re safe to have a breather before you need to go inside for the first dance.

You stand as close to the wall as you can, taking cover from the rain. Your pink satin shoes are getting soaked. Not that it matters. The shoes your brother’s new wife chose for her bridesmaids are so ugly it’s unlikely you’d have worn them again anyway. But she’ll be fuming when she sees the state of them.

The door to the castle opens behind you and you move over, dodging a puddle to let the newcomer seek the shelter of the castle wall too.

“Awryt, darlin?” asks a voice and you look up from the puddle at your feet to see John MacTavish, your brother’s best man, pulling out a packet of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. “I didnae think you smoked.”

“I don’t,” you say, putting your vape to your lips and raising your eyebrows once.

He pulls a sour face. “Them? They’re fulla chemicals and like, mercury, and that.”

“Oh aye? What’s in these? Vitamins?” you ask, flicking the pack of cigarettes in his hand with a forefinger. “You didnae smoke afore joinin’ the army.”

“Aye, well, I was sixteen when you last saw me. And you were, whit, twelve?”

“Fifteen, John.”

There’s only a year between you and your big brother, Tam. But the way he and John treated you, you’d have thought there was a decade between you. Acting like you were an annoying wee tag-along. You just wanted to be included from time to time.

But that was ten years ago. Last time you saw John, he was just a boy, and you, just a lass. But now he’s older, with a scar on his chin that’s only highlighted by his coarse, dark stubble. The scar cuts across the hair there like white lightning. He’s taller, and broader than when you last saw him and his hair is shaved much shorter and neater than the teenage John you remember.

“Aw, aye. I mind now. You and your pals had wangled your way intae the sixth-year leavers’ gaff. As usual.”

“Did I? Any excuse for a drink back then, I s’pose.”

“Aye, but I remember ‘cause I wis leavin’ in a few days for the army. And you were -” He cuts himself off suddenly.

“I was whit?” a smile cracks across your face, waiting to hear his description of how you looked that night. Beautiful? Stunning? Mesmerising? You see yourself as you had been - your hair perfectly straightened, your Oh Polly bandage dress hugging your form in all the right places. In your memory, you were the embodiment of a siren. You had dolled up that night to impress the older boys. Or, if you were honest, one particular older boy.

“Well, I mean,” he says putting a cigarette between his lips and flicking his lighter. The orange glow briefly illuminates his face, casting shadows that seem to momentarily harden his features, making you remember he’s no longer a boy of sixteen but a man of twenty-six. “You were absolutely gantin’ for it.”

Your mouth falls open and you hit his arm.

Mortifying.

“Whit? Fae you? Aye, right !” you say, sarcastically but your face flushes bright red, immediately giving you away. You might have been drunk but John MacTavish rejecting your drunken advances as a teenager was probably the defining moment of your formative years.

As your words, brushing off his teasing, hang in the air, the jolt of embarrassment reminds you of a different party.

On that fateful night, ten years ago, the music was much louder. The floor was littered with empty cans and bottles and you’d ‘accidentally on purpose’ bumped into John in the hallway before pulling him into someone’s parents’ bedroom. You’d recklessly thrown your arms around him.

“Woah, woah, woah. What you daen?” he’d whispered in a panic.

“Please, Johnny,” you’d slurred drunkenly. “I dunno when I’ll see you again. Somethin’ tae remember me by.”

You had leaned in to kiss him but he turned his head. You were so drunk you didn’t care. You sucked on his neck, feeling that dark stubble under your sloppy tongue as your hand found his cock in his jeans.

But he’d stopped you in your tracks. Pinned your arms to the side. He was stronger than you, even as a teenager.

“Naw, look, I cannae,” he had said. And even though your eyes could barely focus on his, you could tell he was annoyed at you. But you didn’t care. You just wanted him so badly.

“Aw, come on, John. Please? I’ll show you my tits,” you had said. “I’ll - I’ll go the full way. I’ll do anythin’. Just - just don’t leave, awryt?”

The sound of cheers from the reception hall cuts through your memory and snaps you back to your current, rainy surroundings.

“Aye, well, I was probably just dreamin’,” says present-day John. “It probably never happened.”

It’s considerate of him, to pretend that it never happened.

But no matter how hard you try to pretend, there’s no denying that you made a fool of yourself, plain and simple.

Sometimes late at night when you can’t sleep, the memory makes you cringe as you replay that embarrassing moment. You try and cut yourself some slack, remind yourself that you were just a desperate, heartbroken teenager who’d drunk half a bottle of vodka working up the courage to make the move she’d always thought about. Begging John not to join the army. Begging John to fuck her.

He had declined both requests.

But that doesn’t matter because you’re a fully grown woman now. One that hasn’t spent more than a second thinking about John MacTavish coming home for her brother’s wedding. No, sir. Not one second. Definitely not.

You exhale a laugh like it’s a funny memory. “Maybe it did happen. I cannae really remember, I must have been steamin’ drunk,” you say. But you know what happened. He knows what happened. And he knows you know.

John's response comes with a delay, his chuckle soft and tinged with a hint of meaningful self-deprecation, to try and frame some of the embarrassment back onto himself. “You must’ve been steamin' to have tried it on wae the likes of me. You were always far too good for me,” he laughs, but this time his smile doesn’t quite reach those bright blue eyes.

There’s a long silence as you say nothing. With a deliberate motion, you bring the vape to your lips, inhaling deeply, the action grounding you back to the here and now as the artificial kiwi-passionfruit-guava fills your lungs with something that you know must be bad for them. As you exhale, your gaze drifts down to your soaked shoes, the pink satin darkened by the rain. They’ve changed beyond recognition.

“Woah,” he coughs his own puff of smoke. “Now just whit is that ?” asks John, his eyes clocking your left hand.

You tilt your hand subtly, letting the diamond catch the cloudy daylight. “Did Tam no mention it?” The words linger between you, almost casual. “I’m engaged, John.”

For a moment, John just stares at your hand, his face unreadable. Then, a low whistle escapes him, a mix of surprise and something unspoken. He glances up at you, his eyes searching yours for the answer to a question that he doesn’t voice. “Engaged, eh? Tam never said a word.” His gaze shifts away, a frown creasing his forehead. “Where’s the lucky man the night?”

“He’s offshore the now - he works on the rigs.”

“Christ, I’ll say,” says John, taking your hand and examining your ring. “He’d need tae be workin’ in oil for a big rock like this wan.”

Your hand feels small in his. His thick brows soften from a frown when he pulls his gaze up from your engagement ring to meet your eyes. His eyes are blue and full of a warmth that you wouldn’t expect from someone who, from Tam’s account, is a hardened soldier.

Your heart thuds in your chest when you realise that he’s been holding your hand for too long. But you don’t retract it.

“Aww the best tae the happy couple, then,” he says softly. “I suppose Tam never telt me ‘cause he had a lot to be dealing wae his own wedding and that.” John lets go of your hand. “Dae you no miss your fella, wae him being offshore?”

“Four weeks on, two weeks off. I see him plenty… More than your missus sees you, I expect. How often d’you come home? Once or twice a year?”

“I’ve no got a missus so I don’t need tae worry about that.”

The raucous laughter from inside the wedding venue dies down suddenly. And you hear the master of ceremonies announcing the entrance of the bride and groom.

“Gads,” says John, stubbing out his half-finished cigarette.

“If we miss the first dance, we’re fucked,” you say. “I’ll never hear the fuckin’ end of it.”

You try to carefully step over the puddle - John takes your arm and holds on to you so you don’t fall. He opens the oak door for you but as you’re about to pass, he grips you tighter, stopping your movement.

“Listen, darlin’, there are some things that are just off-limits,” he says, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in your ear as he leans close. He smells like cigarettes - normally that smell would turn your stomach but there’s something sweet in his aftershave, like vanilla, that makes the tobacco smell musky and warm.

“Meanin’?” You look up at him, confused.

“The last time I saw you,” he murmurs. “You were mad wae it. I couldnae, in good conscience, take you up on that offer when you were that drunk. And you’re my best pal’s wee sister tae boot. I couldnae dae that tae Tam.”

“John, that was - that was a long time ago. It was nothin’.”

“And now,” he continues. “Now you’re engaged. Which means you’re even more off-limits.”

Off-limits?

He’s talking like you’re in that bedroom again, begging for his attention. Except you’re not. You’re not begging for John again. He’s just assuming that you’re about to.

That presumptuous bastard.

“You’ve got some fuckin’ nerve, John MacTavish. Who are you tae try and let me down gently? It’s been ten years and I’m no even slightly interested in you anymore.”

“Naw, I know,” he says, refusing to match your volume or tone of indignation. “I’m just tellin’ you out loud why I won’t be trying it on with the most beautiful lassie in the room. And why I said no back then, as well.”

“Haul! You two!” You and John spring apart to see your tiny, furious wee auntie storming down the hallway. “You’re missing your brother’s first dance with his new wife and you’re both supposed to be on the dancefloor.”

“We - we are?” you stammer.

“Aye, did you no hear the emcee telling the wedding party to join the bride and groom? That means bridesmaids and groomsmen, ya pair of glaikit idiots. Your maw’s fuckin’ ragin’”

And with that, John lets the door behind you swing shut and you both leg it past your auntie to the reception room, with you leaving wet footprints in your wake as you go. The music from the room swells into clarity as you burst through the doors and skid inelegantly onto the dancefloor.

Your brother and his wife are too absorbed in their own happiness to have noticed your late entry and you breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s short-lived. You immediately stiffen again when John takes your waist and you realise that he’s your dance partner.

As the two of you begin swaying to the music, your mind races. You’re no longer that sad, rejected teenager, yet here, in John's reassuring grasp, you feel the ghost of her stirring. His gaze is careful, and guarded, but there's still that question in his eyes that he’s forbidden to ask.

And behind your own eyes, you can’t help the stream of curses going off inside your head.

You curse your nerves for being the reason you got so drunk at that party.

You curse John for being Tam’s best man.

But most of all, you curse yourself as you watch your left hand rest on John’s shoulder as you dance, the giant diamond ring glittering like a heavy disco ball.

#scotland forever #soap x reader #john soap mactavish #task force 141 #smut #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish x reader #burns night #cod fic #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #soapitup

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mcufan72 · 3 months

Text

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

Warnings: none so far, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff and smut (eventually), some teasing, sexual tension and some lustful feelings but I think it's still a slow-burn love story.

A/N: I had some struggles writing this down, it took me several days to get it right. Maybe this chapter still sounds better in my head than the written lines. But I hope you all like reading it.

A big thank you @poetic-fiasco 💚❤️ for a phrase you created in a completely different context (you know which phrase I mean) and for allowing me to use it. It's just two words but they fitted perfectly that evening 😅

Loki stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows in the large living room of his penthouse in Jersey City, New Jersey and enjoyed the first rays of sunshine in the morning. He loved the fantastic view from here over the Hudson River to the amazing skyline of Manhattan in the light of the rising sun. How far he had come. He still quarrelled with what he had done to this city and its inhabitants and the sick plans he had to rule this planet as their king. Fortunately, he got stopped right in time, further damage was prevented and after realizing his mistake, a mistake he made because he was being tortured and forced, he got the chance for redemption. He had made good use of it. The beast was annihilated in close combat and not at least because of his help and his extraordinary skills to talk, to lie, to trick, to use his magic and to fight.

In the beginning, many of the Avengers were wary and didn't trust him. But his brother never gave up on him, he never lost his trust in him or the love he had for him. Loki would always be grateful for it and yes, he loved his brother, too. Indeed. After many times in over ten years of proving his loyalty, his sense of justice, his negotiation skills and his will to fight for the right things, literally and figuratively, they all became friends, more or less, and since two years, mostly working as an ambassador and negotiator, he was allowed to live alone without any kind of “babysitting”. Of course, his brother still kept an eye on him and so did Tony Stark. But it became more and more a kind of visiting each other than controlling him. Loki was fine with that. He knew some things needed time to be forgiven and living under the radar when he came back to New York twelve years ago, under a fake name and in solitude, made things easier for him. People came to New York and also left this city again. It happens frequently in a metropolis with millions of population and also people forget easily in the fast pace and hectic of today's time. It also wouldn't be long anymore before he would have served his sentence and he would be free to go wherever he wanted.

While watching the first Staten Island Ferries launching for the Statue of Liberty and just clothed in black sweatpants, one hand in his pocket and a mug of coffee in his other hand, he was thinking of you. He still felt your body and your warmth in his arms. He shouldn't. He decided to live alone, unattached to a woman. He had his brother and his friends and that was already more than he deserved. Also, love and relationships never ended well for him and he was tired of getting his heart broken over and over again. Maybe a sinner like him with blood-drenched hands didn't deserve the love and affection of a woman at all. He was fine with only having sexual affairs from time to time with faceless, nameless women to satisfy his carnal needs.

But it has been a while now since he had a woman tangled in his bedsheets and getting a lusty distraction from his loneliness. He'd love to have physical contact again but not with another faceless woman. If he would share a bed with someone again it had to be you. You had entered his life and he couldn't get you out of his head. He loved your appearance, which was surely a fassade or sort of a costume, he was well aware of that. If there was someone who could relate to it, it was him. There was much more he liked about you, the lovely and decent woman behind that masquerade. He had already seen some tiny little glimpses of the real you, who were shoved into a situation you seemingly never wanted. He liked your attitude, sassy and cute, you were eloquent and smart. You knew what you wanted and what you did not want.

The little mistake you had made at the dining table didn't bother him at all. Nobody is perfect and he knew exactly what he was talking about. It just made you more adorable. But how realistic was his wish to sleep with you? You had made it very clear that you weren't interested in getting sexually involved with him. And he had told you the same. And wouldn't it be inconsequential to change his mind now? He also struggled with the ‘sex-only’-thing when it came to you. Didn't you deserve more and better? You shouldn't sleep with someone like him. Knee-deep in blood, sin and guilt. Guilty of murder. Guilty of having tried to conquer a planet and subjugate the people of Earth against their will. Your people. If you knew his real identity you would hate him. Abysmal hate from the bottom of your heart perhaps. You were an angel and he was the sinner. Heaven and hell. You two had nothing in common, nothing was binding you. You were his escort, his distraction. His distraction from pain and loneliness. And he was just your client, one of many who paid you for your service, who paid the money you urgently needed for who knows what. But he hated that other men touched you, and spent time with you. He knew his blood-drenched hands weren't worthy to touch you at all but other men weren't worthy to touch you either.

Damn, he shouldn't have danced with you. Because now he wanted the feeling of you in his arms over and over again. Yes, it did things to him and that evening, when he physically was so close to you it wasn't easy for him to suppress an erection. But this urge to hold you in his arms again wasn't just sexual. He wanted to feel your warmth, your closeness again and not least he wanted to enjoy your company again. And he wanted to take care of you. A care you surely wouldn't want or need. He didn't deserve you but he wanted you, wanted to be with you, no matter what and he must find a way to avoid that other men would ever lay an eye or a hand on you or take advantage of you.

All of this was the reason why he wanted to book you for next Saturday. He had already sent an email to your agency promptly after your first date and expected the confirmation for the appointment during the day. He would go to the opening of a small art gallery with you, an event he actually didn't want to go to. He didn't really like to go to exclusively social events without a business background. He had decided otherwise now because it was a perfect reason for booking you to escort him to this event …and to see you again. You came into his life and only then he realized how utterly lonely he was. Maybe at least it hadn't been a good decision to live a life in solitude. Should he ask you for a shared night? Would you agree? Would it be too soon and too offensive to ask you? If you'd agree to share the bed with him, you’d have to follow some of his rules because there was still this one thing he could never let you know.

Besides all of this, he would give you all the money you needed without getting anything from you but it seemed you would never take his money without giving something in return. He was sure you wouldn't even ask him for money and you probably had good reasons for it. Loki took a sip of his coffee, reached for a random book on his impressive bookshelf and tried to distract himself by reading a few lines. He made himself comfortable on his sofa and began to read. It didn't work. His thoughts always drifted back to you.

**********************

What should you do now? You sat at the table in your apartment, your lunch untouched on a plate next to you. You weren't hungry. There was a lump in your stomach and it took away your appetite. How should you manage all of this? Your studies, the bills, the increased rent for your apartment and your mum's nursing home, visiting her on Sundays, daily dates with men you had to escort to functions, and from now on appointments for the weekends, too. You should focus on your studies and finish your degree to get back to a serious, well-paid job again. You didn't want to work as an escort lady for the rest of your life. But your study was so expensive that you ran out of money sooner than expected. You still had some saved money but you needed it for something else so you wouldn't touch it.

There have been times when you had all the money and possibilities to afford an apartment like this, your mum's nursing home and the care for her, and a nice life with all its amenities. And because of one silly mistake your whole life crashed down. But maybe you didn't deserve it any better. You sat in front of your laptop and stared at the files of your bank statement and your busy schedule. Now there were some options. There were just two if you were being honest. You could twist and squirm all you want, you wouldn't earn enough money, not even as an escort. You could move into a much cheaper and even smaller apartment which wouldn't be easy in Manhattan, unless you liked to live in a rathole. But you had to try it and in the worst case, you would live in a rathole, for heaven's sake. Also, you could earn some more money a bit faster if you…the thought made you cringe but you had to do it, you had no other choice. But there was only this one man imaginable for you, the one who had told you, he only wanted to be escorted by you and nothing more. And after that dumb mistake at your first real appointment with him, you had been sure you would never see him again. Luke Larsson was a man who didn't accept unprofessionalism. And yet he had been very nice to you and you appreciated it.

You took a sip of your coffee and calculated your financial issues for the umpteenth time. It was to despair. Would you ever find a way out of this fucked up situation? Sometimes you wished you could go back to your little village in the south of Great Britain, back into your little happy bubble, far away from trouble, bad news and harsh reality. Back to the times when you baked cinnamon rolls with your mum every Sunday afternoon. Life was peaceful there but those times were over. Welcome to reality!

Taking another sip of your coffee, you were closing the laptop lid, when a pling was signalling an incoming email. You opened the laptop lid completely again and opened the mail. It was from Rhea. She had promised to send you the further details of Luke's next appointment with you.

Hey dear,

I hope you're doing well. As promised earlier, here's the update for your appointment with Mr. Larsson.

It's on Saturday afternoon and I hope this fits your schedule. It's a gallery opening so I hope this information helps to choose the right clothing appropriate to the occasion.

Mr. Larsson will wait for you at the gallery, Walker will drive you there. He'll pick you up at your home at 3 pm. If you have any further questions, feel free to call me and please mail me your confirmation for this appointment so I can inform Mr Larsson.

PS: please remember the date with Mr Rogers tonight. I'm sorry that he had booked you at short notice. Have fun!

Take care, dear

Rhea

Luke had booked you again. He really wanted you to escort him again and you still couldn't believe it. Thank goodness he was not resentful and hadn't told Rhea about your stupid mistake. He gave you a second chance and you looked forward to seeing him again but you felt nervous at the same time. Things were getting real now. Should you offer him your advanced service? He didn't flirt, that's what he made very clear to you but the way he danced with you and looked at you has been very close to it. And it felt good. You barely remembered when it was the last time someone had looked at you like he did that evening.

Anyway, will he say yes? Why should he say yes and also pay for it? He could have any woman he wanted, they surely lined up at his door to spend a night of debauched passion with him. This man was pure sex. Women probably fling themselves at him daily. Your heart clenched painfully when you pictured him with other women, more lovable and more desirable than you. But you had no right to judge him or the other women for it. You had no right to think and feel like that. At least he was a man with carnal needs. You didn't have an exclusive right to meet him. It was the other way around, he decided if he wanted you to escort him or not. You should better be grateful that Luke wanted to meet you again.

You should give it a try and offer him to sleep with you. Couldn't be that difficult. It was just sex, right? You never cared much about sex, you never understood what the fuss was all about. Your exes never had much patience with you when you needed a bit longer to feel satisfied and maybe you had always been the problem. So what. A quick fuck, in and out and in between moaning a little horny and he would be done in three minutes. You were good at faking orgasms. Pretending you enjoy it as much as he does shouldn't be that difficult for you. He wouldn't even notice it, men never noticed. You always thought you would be too decent for that, having sex with a client but you had already fallen so deep…and fuck decency. Life gave a shit about it…so why should you!

For now, you should focus on your next date tonight, Mr.Rogers. You would meet him at a dancing hall. You like dancing and for now, it would be a good distraction from your current problems. It seemed a bit old-fashioned to go to a dancing bar where they played old classics from the 40's and 50’s but you were sure you would've fun and a decent gentleman at your side tonight. And after tonight you had just one more date and then it would already be Saturday, when you would see Luke again. A little smile curved your lips and you headed to the bathroom to get ready for tonight. It was time for Sugar's performance.

Your date for Friday night got cancelled. You were already waiting at Vivian's Velvet and having your obligatory glass of champagne at the bar when Rhea sent you a message. Your client got ill but maybe he just changed his mind. It didn't happen very often but it happened. Well, you had a free evening now, and you still got paid because it wasn't your fault the date was cancelled so you had some time to think about some rules and boundaries for sexual intercourse with clients. Or should you better say, rules for having sex with Luke? There were definitely some things you wouldn't do and you should be well prepared for a clarifying conversation. No perverse shit, no hard-core sex and the most important thing: no kisses! And falling in love is strictly forbidden, for both sides. Sex only!

You would never fall for a client and you would never fall for Luke Larsson. Not for his stupid, soft obsidian curls, not for his broad shoulders, his strong arms or his long legs, not for his incredible charm, or his beautiful eyes, not for his devastating smile, no matter how handsome he was or how fast he made your heart beating. He was your client and that's all he'll ever be.

On Saturday morning you've gotten up early to have enough time for grocery shopping, doing the dishes and cleaning up your messy apartment. Books and papers for your studies and clothes, your normal ones and those you had worn for your dates, were spread all over the floor, chairs, the table and the sofa. The daily appointments on weekdays had a deep impact on your daily routine. You were so tired sometimes that you didn't have the energy to clean everything up daily. And from now on you won't have the weekends either to relax a little bit. So you were in a hurry now because your appointment was already in the afternoon today and you still had to shower and prepare yourself for the gallery opening. You weren't sure if you were ready to ask Luke if he wanted to sleep with you but you'd definitely ask him. The pressure to earn more money quickly was getting higher and you've come to terms with it that you had to expand your service.

After showering you looked through your closet to find an adequate outfit for a gallery opening. You decided to go for an elegant, refined trouser suit in pastel pink, combined with a white blouse with a deep neckline, and white high heels. Underneath you wore white lace underwear. You loved this sexy set of bra and thong but it let you look more innocent than you were. You hoped Luke would like it, in case he would accept your offer tonight. With your hair in a tight bun with the knot deep in your neck and dark pink lipstick on your lips, Sugar was ready to meet Mr Larsson.

Walker drove you to the gallery where Luke was already waiting for you. Walker got out of the limousine but Loki gestured to him that he wanted to open the door for you. The moment you got out of the backseat and took the hand he was offering you, you were directly under his spell again. He looked so dapper and seductive in his suit which was midnight blue, combined with a tight-fitting white shirt, its collar open, his beautiful neck on perfect display. His look was completed by black Oxfords and a silk scarf around his neck. The scarf shimmered in the darkest shades of blue and green you had ever seen. The scent of his cologne was alluring and you wanted to bury your nose into his soft hair that framed his incredibly beautiful face perfectly. Indeed, he was a god in a suit or maybe he was the devil himself. A handsome devil, seductively hot, ready to take you with him into his den of desire, ready to burn with you in hell. Damn it, your imagination was running too wild.

“Good afternoon, Sugar. Thank you for coming. I'm glad to see you and you look beautiful again”, he greeted you gentlemanly and you came back to reality.

“Good afternoon, Luke. Thank you for your compliment…I think I look a bit like candy floss…,” you answered jokingly and turned in a circle once, a big grin on your face.

“Sorry, I don't quite understand…” Loki said and looked quizzically at you. For him you looked lovely, like a beautiful, sexy angel.

“Candy floss, it's mostly pastel pink and… made of sugar… nah, forget it, it was a bad joke,” you smiled at him and shook your head lightly and Loki smiled back at you. He looked so pretty when he smiled. “Thank you for booking me again. It's a pleasure to accompany you to the opening.” you continued kindly.

“Don't worry, it wasn't a bad joke. I just don't know what candyfloss is and to me, you look beautiful,” he told you. It was what he honestly thought and he could imagine that you probably taste sweet like sugar. “I hope you like art?”

“Oh yes, I do. I'm already excited to have a look at all of the artwork.” You replied genuinely and Loki smiled contentedly at you.

“Then let's go inside,” and he offered you his arm which you took gratefully. It felt so good to touch him.

Inside, you two were greeted by a middle-aged beautiful woman who was the gallery owner and an old friend of Tony Stark. She gave you a short introduction to the artworks in her gallery and that you should feel free to get drinks, canapés and sweets from the buffet. Just from the way she looked at Luke, you could tell she was enchanted by him and you couldn't blame her for it. But you felt something inside of you you should better not feel at all. It felt as if she would take him away from you and he wasn't even a friend of yours. You should better not forget what you were for him. You were his escort, something like a fake date and he was your client. While he was still in conversation with different people who seemed to know him, you strolled through the exhibition until you stood in front of a painting you couldn't keep your eyes off.

*************

Loki tried to end the several conversations he was drawn into, quickly because you were already on your way through the gallery and he wanted to spend the time with you and not with random guests who came to the opening. First, he couldn't find you, there were so many people in there but around the next corner, he finally found you.

You stood in front of a painting you couldn't stop staring at. A painting with a golden elegant vase filled to the brim with all sorts of wildflowers, tulips, roses, daffodils, lilies, and peonies, loosely arranged in it. As elegant as the vase was, as wild and untamed were the flowers. Loki couldn't stop staring at you and enjoying the view of the woman he began to care about. It touched him how fascinated you stared at the painting and how you were able to zone out the world around you. You literally bathed in the effect of the picture which it obviously had on you. He gave you further moments of enjoyment before he walked towards you, his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“Do you like it?” He asked you politely

“Yes,... it's beautiful. I don't know why, it's just…the flowers, the colours…it just put a spell on me. The flowers are pure life, colourful, beautiful, wild but destined to wither and die because they got cut but still…they are pure beauty and I can literally smell their various wonderful scents.” You were still captivated when you whispered under your breath so Loki couldn't hear it “... and they remind me of home…like your British accent…”

“Yeah, it attracts us, it's winning us all over whether we want it or not. Some things have this effect on us,” he replied and walked closer to you.

Loki had an idea why you liked the painting that much. The motif reminded him of you: elegant and pretty as the vase, and wonderful, wild, free, untamed and colourful as the flowers. But if he would paint this picture of you right now, the vase would lay shattered on the floor and the flowers were crushed and stepped on, everything broken and sad. That's what he saw whenever he looked into your eyes and he wished he could help you with more than just his money.

“Is that so, Luke?” and you turned towards him.

“What do you mean? “ He looked at you from above. He was so tall and so close to you. It was now or never. You knew if you wouldn't do it now, your courage would leave you faster than you could imagine.

“What is it that attracts you?” and your one hand softly caressed his outer thigh, travelled upwards over his really adorable butt, kneading it gently, and then farther upwards to the waistband of his trousers. Your actions went straight to his cock which twitched against the confinement of his slacks. Your gaze was pure seduction and your hand on his body was hot like fire. He grabbed your wrist at lightning speed.

“What are you doing there, Sugar?” he murmured darkly, frowning.

“Testing the waters. Testing if you're really not interested in flirting. I can feel some…tension between us, if you know what I mean,” you whispered and your gaze wandered down from his eyes over his lips and his body to his visible bulge. Were you really capable of doing this to him? Or did he just get hard because you might promise him a quicky? Your gazing down at his manhood didn't go unnoticed by Loki. What were you up to?

“Stop being naughty, Sugar,” he growled darkly.

“Why? Don't you like it when I touch you?”

“We have a deal. Don't forget about that. And besides, you have no idea what you're asking for.”

“Really? Maybe I know exactly what I'm asking for. And deals are negotiable,” your words were dripping like honey from your mouth.

“No! And you have no idea what it means to tease me!” Loki responded firmly.

“Uhhh…now I'm curious. Don't play hard to get, handsome,” you cooed.

You knew you were playing with fire. But didn't all men say things like this? And then they promise you endless pleasure just to be done in three minutes or so, leaving you unpleasured and you were sure he wasn't any different. You were used to it and it didn't matter. But maybe you were completely wrong. Seeing him how aroused he got, aroused you too and you wanted to feel him close. Much closer than you had already felt him when he danced with you. You wouldn't evolve feelings for him, never, absolutely not but all of a sudden your body craved attention, touches and some adoration. Against your expectation, you almost felt bad to let him pay for having sex with you. But you were an escort, not his girlfriend and the escort lady got paid, period!

“Wanna sleep with me tonight?” Your shameless offer caught Loki off guard and he immediately let go of your wrist. He played it cool and his facial expression turned to stone. He couldn't believe that you offered him your body so willingly. He should refuse it. But then you would ask another guy and he couldn't allow that. Who knew how another guy would treat you? He also couldn't deny that he wanted you, that he craved your touch and your attention. But what the hell made you do this?

You grabbed the loose ends of his scarf and pulled his head gently down and him closer towards you so you could speak right into his ear.

“There's nothing to it, Luke. Just two needy bodies, giving each other some pleasure to get some steam off. What do you think? ”

What were you thinking? What if he declined your offer? He could have any woman in this city and he wouldn't even have to pay for it. You weren't any special, just expensive to book, and if he says no you would've made a terrible fool out of yourself.

“I think you still haven't an idea what you're asking for…I'm not a tender lover,” he grumbled.

“It doesn't matter, tenderness is for beginners. I'm not scared of you.”

It was just the half of the truth. It didn't matter because the few men you had been with hadn't been overly tender but you were afraid of him, not in a bad way though. You had a lot of respect for him, he radiated dominance and masculinity and it aroused you, he aroused you and that was what made you fear him. He made you feel good and safe and that scared you.

“Do you offer this…special service of yours to other men, too? Despite that, you told me you're done with men.” He had no right to ask you this. He had no right to be jealous or possessive. He shouldn't go too far, you weren't his and you could do whatever you wanted. But it made his heart clench when he thought about other men touching you.

“If I do, it's none of your business! And I'm free to change my mind about men. I do what I want.” You whispered firmly into his ear.

How dare he ask you that? It was a normal thing many escort ladies did and there was nothing wrong about it. It happened frequently and consensually. But you didn't judge him for that question and it didn't surprise you that he thought you offered sex to your other clients too. He couldn't know you weren't doing it.

“I won't discuss it with you. So, your decision …do you want me or not?” you purred into his ear.

“Are you really sure you want it? If so, to be very clear, don't expect anything more than just the physical act. I just copulate, don't expect any feelings of love from me. Nothing will change that." His voice was pure velvet in your ear and his warm breath fanned over your neck to your cleavage. It made you shiver pleasantly.

“Well, that's fair enough. I'm not looking for love, as you should know.”

“We still see it the same way then.”

“We do, Luke”, and you loosened your grip on his scarf, put your hands on his chest and let them tenderly travel down over his pecs to his midriff before you took them off of his gorgeous body. Even clothed you could feel every perfectly defined muscle.

Loki had goosebumps all over his skin. You made him feel too comfortable around you and to his astonishment, this feeling wasn't just sexual.

“So we have a deal?” you wanted to know.

“We have a deal”, Loki confirmed. Your hands travelling down his torso hadn't helped get rid of his erection, not in the slightest.

“Then let's go to my hotel later. It's one of the best in Manhattan. I'm sure we'll have a lot of fun. Scottish whisky for you, champagne for me and…nearly whatever you want, including me.” You were so nervous. Would he like you? Could you satisfy his needs? How rough would he get? You'd definitely need a glass of champagne before you could let him touch you and a cigarette afterwards.

Nonetheless, you'd try to enjoy it. He was such a gentleman and you were absolutely sure he would treat you well and respectfully. And he smelled so good. It was like a drug. Also, you had some rules and if he wouldn't respect and accept them, you would definitely not sleep with him. And you had Walker, he would always protect you.

“Nearly whatever I want? What does that mean, Sugar?” he questioned softly.

“What I said. But I have rules. Strict rules.”

“Of course, you have. And I have mine. We should talk about them later. I don't think it's the right place here for that”, he whispered.

“Yeah, I suggest we settle the matter later in the hotel. Walker will drive us there”, you offered him.

“That's a good call”, he answered, nodding in agreement.

“Fine.” You licked your lips and bit lightly into your lower lip. Loki gasped inwardly. Why were you doing this? Suddenly he turned his head to the side.

“Is everything okay, Luke?”

“I don't like how that guy looks at you”, Loki growled quietly.

“Which guy?” you wanted to know.

“The guy across from us” and you followed Loki's gaze.

“Let him stare.”

“Absolutely not. You're here with me. No one stares at you like this”, Loki murmured and he put his arm possessively around your middle and pulled you close to his side. Absolutely no one was allowed to look at you like this when you were with him.

“He's just jealous of you, Luke. Maybe he likes my trouser suit...or he's a peeper. Don't worry, I'm still your arm candy”, you tried to calm him down but you couldn't suppress a grin.

If looks could kill, the poor guy would die in an instant. You put an arm around Loki's waist and placed your other hand on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, like yours and you both looked at the guy. Loki with a death stare and you with a bright smile. You loved this game you played together. And it made your heart swell that he got angry just because of a random guy who looked at you. None of your exes had been like this. Under different circumstances, you two would be a wonderful couple. The guy immediately looked away, obviously feeling embarrassed and frightened, and turned around.

“Would you please take your hand from my chest?”

“Just in case you let go of my waist.” you offered him sweetly.

“Sorry, I didn't want to…” and he cleared his throat.

“It's okay, Luke, don't worry. We're going to get much closer tonight…Shall we look for some canapés and drinks? It seems, you could need a cooling down”, you said with a quick look at his crotch. Was there a rosy shade on his perfect cheeks? “…oh and I want a dessert…”, and you took him by his hand and pulled him with you to the buffet.

“You and your desserts”, he laughed, amused.

“You should try them some day”, you smiled brightly at him.

“No, thanks, I'm good”, Loki answered, trying to sound serious.

After having some drinks and snacks, you ate the final bite of your dessert and licked the last bits off of the spoon and your lips. Loki was wondering if you did it on purpose. It seemed you liked to tease him and to add to the sexual tension that was obviously still buzzing between you two. It was still palpable. You knew how to seduce and it made you even more desirable.

“Shall we have a look at the other works in the gallery before we leave? I'd like to see them.”

“Anything you want, Sugar. We have time, don't we?”

“I hope so…or are you eager to get to the hotel soon” you teased him.

“I might be horny but I can control myself.”

“Really? That's rare. Most men can't wait to blow their load,” you answered lasciviously and smiled knowingly. You wondered where your self-confidence came from. The thing that was to come was new terrain for you. Shouldn't you feel more nervous? But maybe this was just how you tried to downplay your nervousness.

Loki smirked and rolled his eyes.

“You really amaze me. You're such a beautiful and decent woman but you've such a filthy mouth.”

If only he knew. If you ever have been decent, your decency would soon be gone. At the latest when he fucked you. He would see you differently then and maybe he would also lose his respect for you. And that was one of your biggest fears.

🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹

Tag list:

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @anukulee @fictive-sl0th @fandxmslxt69 @chantsdemarins @justjoanne242 @gruftiela @stupidthoughtsinwriting @wheredafandomat @lovingchoices14 @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger @km-ffluv

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jawabear · 1 year

Text

RED

Captain John Price x Reader

Not my GIF

A/N: no idea where this came from. It was good in my head and terrible on paper. But here you go. Hope you enjoy! Sorry for any mistakes

Genre: smut

Warnings: AFAB!Reader, dirty memories, one night stand, longing John, slight spanking.

Summary: Ten years, John had been haunted by one single night. And not for the reason that is assumed of a soldier.

It was a one night stand. A one night thing. From nearly ten years ago. With a woman he had only met that night. A woman whose name he didn’t even learn.

But even now he could remember her.

Could still feel the soft skin under his fingers. Could still hear her sweet moans in his ears. Could still feel her hands running over his battered and scared body.

It was wrong of him to hold on so desperately to memories of a nameless woman who he used solely for sex after a severely failed mission. But he was captivated by her. By the look in her eyes, by the way she kissed him, the way she touched him.

“Captain” she sighed as he kissed between her breasts, his hand smoothing over he hips. That was what he had asked her to call him. Captain. And he was to call her ‘Red’.

Her fingers gliding through his hair as he moved his mouth to suckle at her perky nipple. “Keep going”

“I don’t plan on stopping” he told her gruffly as he flipped her onto her back. He was quick to slither between her already spread legs. “Such a wet little pussy, Red”

“She knows a sexy man when she sees one” Red smirked.

“You think I’m sexy?” He quirked an eyebrow up at her as he ran his rough fingers through her slick folds. Her back arched off the bed and she fisted the sheets at the touch.

“Yes” she breathed “please. Just fuck me” John wasn’t in a position to deny her request. He got to his knees and lined his cock up with her fluttering hole just begging to be filled with his thick length. He pushed himself into her, her knuckles going white for the grip she held on the sheets. “Fuck, yes. Don’t hold back, Captain. Give me everything”

So he did. He fucked every inch of frustration out of himself and into her. Using her. But she spurred him on. Telling him to go harder, faster, to use her.

John lay alone now staring at the celling of the barracks. His head filled with images of the nameless woman. Images of the way her chest heaved as he fucked her. The way her teeth sunk into her bottom lips. They way her thighs quivered.

“Captain” she breathed into his ear.

He could see her above him. Riding him. It was her turn to use him. She was clearly just as burdened as he was. She rode him like it was the last thing she would ever do. Her nails imprinting themselves into his chest. His fingers doing the same to her hips.

They were marking each other. Two strangers laying their claims to each other.

“Please” he begged “don’t stop. I’m so close”

“I don’t plan on stopping” she repeated his words back to him. Her voice nothing but a whisper as she did. Far too fucked out to be remotely teasing. She was just a desperate to forget as he was. He wished he knew what she was using him to forget. But that was not part of the deal.

The deal was sex. No feelings, no knowledge. Just sex.

But there was something special about that night. Something that made that night plague his mind. Her. The mysterious woman who he was certain he would never see again. Only in his mind. Only in his dreams.

He remembered how it felt to touch her ass. How it so perfectly curved to fit in his hand as he now fucked her from behind. “Such a perfect arse” he slapped it. Loving the way it jiggled from the impact. “So perfect. You’re so perfect” she whimpered at his soft words. But his voice was a growl as he drilled himself into her.

She cried into the pillow and bucked her hips back in a feeble attempt to meet his thrusts. She had already come twice in this position alone, but she was so desperate for more of him. It was like she knew his pain and wouldn’t let him stop until he was rid of it all. Even if that meant her dealing with hours of overstimulation.

“Coming!” She screamed. Her voice hoarse at this point. She had screamed for him so many times in one night.

“Keep coming” he growled and slapped her ass again. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare stop. Keep coming around my cock”

She was damn near sobbing at this point. The overestimation and overwhelming pleasure blanking her brain. But she didn’t want him to stop. And he didn’t want to stop.

John rolled onto his side. He could smell that phantom fumes of sex around him. Could smell the lust and the alcohol from the bar below their temporary hotel room. He could hear ghosts of her pants as she laid bedside him. Her hair splaying on the pillow. He could remember how her hair smelled. Not like sex or sweat or lust. But like peace. A dream. He couldn’t name the smell but he could only describe it as comfort.

Even laced in the scent of sex, she smelt like comfort. She felt like comfort.

Her eyes met his as she gave him dazed smile. “Are you okay?” He had asked her. He didn’t know if that was breaking the unwritten rules of their deal. But she nodded to him.

“Are you?” She asked him. He returned a nod and smiled back to her. “I hope whatever it is that had hurt you so much gets fixed for you”

“I’ll say the same for you, Red” she rolled her head back to look at the celling. But he couldn’t pull his gaze from her. She let out a breath and closed her eyes, a smile still on her lips.

That’s where the memory ends. He recalled nothing else from that night. He could barely recall meeting her in the first place. He didn’t remember leaving that bar, he didn’t recall leaving her, or her leaving him. But he was okay with that. That memory more than enough.

Sometimes he thought it was too much. To be lusting over a woman he met one and knew nothing about. Knew nothing but the curve of her body, the taste of her lips, the smell of her sex. He hated that all he would know of this woman was how he fucked her. But that was the deal.

And every day since he had regretted taking up that deal. Or at least, not trying harder to find her again. What he wouldn’t give to see her once more. If only to tell her how much that night meant to him, still. After ten years.

But for now, he could only be grateful for what he had of her. And as he finally began to doze off, he swore he heard her voice whisper in his ear.

“Goodnight, Captain. I know we will meet again”

16/1/23

#captain john price #captain john price smut #captain john price x reader #john price #john price x reader #john price smut #modern warfare 2 #smut #fanfic

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stephstars08 · 7 months

Text

Monster ~ Chapter Two

Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Dark Themes, Adult Language, Violence, Mention of Murder, Angst, Fluff, Anger Issues, Daddy Issues, and Possible Grammar Errors.

Word Count: 2,181

Author’s Note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter! I noticed that I have surpassed 1,000 followers and I just want thank you all! I always feel all the love and support from you all and I just wanted to say thank you so much!!

That night Jason met up with Y/N at the diner she works at. She told him her shift ends at eight so he can meet her there to catch up with each other and see what the other has been up to.

Jason arrived at the diner ten minutes after eight. When he walked into the diner there was only two small groups of people sitting together at a table eating and talking quietly. He spotted Y/N sitting at a booth all the way in the back by herself just staring out the big window. Before he made his way to her he decided to take in her appearance. Nothing much has changed since the last time he saw her. She still had her Y/H/L Y/H/C hair that fell down perfectly. She still had those sparkly Y/E/C eyes that shined in the lights. Jason’s nerves started to get to him, so he took a deep and calming breath to relax himself. Once his nerves settled down, he made his way towards Y/N.

“Hey.” Jason said taking her attention away from the window. “Hi.” Y/N said in a soft tone. Jason slid into the booth right across from her. “You know we could’ve met at a different place. I mean you did just end your shift here.” Jason told her. “No, it’s fine.” Y/N reassured him. “This place has been like a second home to me anyways.” Y/N added as she stared down at her hands that were resting on top of the table. “What makes you say that?” Jason asked her in a curious tone. “Got to support myself somehow.” She answered with a sigh still not looking at him.

“What happened to your parents?” Jason asked her. She’s only nineteen and she’s already supporting herself all by herself. “About a year ago my dad got offered a job in Central City. My parents wanted me to move there with them, but I just can’t leave Gotham.” Y/N explained to him as she twiddled her fingers. “Well Central City is safer than Gotham.” Jason told her which made her let out a frustrated sigh. “Trust me. My parents tell me that every time I talk to them over the phone.” Y/N said in frustration as she finally looked up at him with an annoyance look in her eyes. Jason could tell she was getting tense by his comment so he decided to not say anything else about it since he can tell she’s not up to a lecture from him. He can already tell that her parents are still very strict over her even living in two different cities. They most likely lecture her every time they are on the phone with her. He knows they would definitely throw a hissy fit if they knew she was here with him talking and catching up. They were probably thrilled that they lost touch with each other.

“What do you want to drink?” Y/N asked him in a curious tone breaking the silence and him of his trail of thoughts. “Water is fine.” Jason answered which earned him a nod from her.

Y/N slipped out of the booth and walked over to the counter where her friend and co-worker was standing cleaning the counter. “Hey Jen.” Y/N said getting her attention. “Can I get two glasses of water?” She asked in a curious tone. “Of course.” Jennifer said putting down the rag and grabbing two glasses. “Who’s the hottie you are with?” Jennifer asked referring to Jason as she filled the two glasses with ice. “That’s Jason.” Y/N answered as she watched Jennifer fill the two glasses with water. “Wait, you mean the guy you have known since you were kids?” Jennifer asked which earned her a nod from Y/N. “Yeah, we are um catching up. It’s been a couple of years.” Y/N added with her nerves speeding up which Jennifer noticed which was indicating to her that Y/N has more than just friendly feelings for Jason. “Catching up huh?” Jennifer asked with a teasing smirk which made Y/N roll her eyes. “Jennifer!” Y/N said in annoyance. “Oh, you know I’m just playing with you.” Jennifer told her sliding the two glasses of water towards her. “Go back over there to your friend.” She added with a giggle. “Thanks.” Y/N said in a soft tone as she took the glasses of water and walked back over to Jason.

********************

After catching up with each other and eating a little bit of food Jason decided to walk Y/N back home after he paid for the food and drinks. It took a lot of convincing, but Jason told her he would pay. Y/N mentioned that she still lives in the apartment she grew up in which made Jason relived since where he’s staying isn’t too far.

As they walked Y/N kept telling him that he didn’t have to walk her home. “C’mon Y/N, me being overprotective of you is never going to change.” Jason told her in a stern tone as they walked side by side on the sidewalk. “Jason, I’m nineteen years old. If I can live by myself, I can walk myself home. I’ve been doing it for months.” Y/N told him in the same tone he was using. “Okay, fine answer this.” Jason said testing her. “If a thug came up to you right now and tried to take your purse, what would you do?” Jason asked her. “Easy, I would drop kick him.” Y/N answered without even hesitating. “You know how to do that?” Jason asked with a surprised look on his face. “About five months ago I decided to enroll myself into a martial arts class.” Y/N told him. “Just another way in making it on my own.” She added. “I’ve actually taken some classes myself.” Jason told her with a smirk. “In that case, we’ll have to spare together some time.” Y/N told him with a small smile. Her first smile of the night. “Sounds like a plan to me.” Jason said with a wink which made her heart rate speed up.

He’s really missed this. Talking with her about anything. She’s the only person that he’s always going to feel safe with. She’s his safe place.

“I’ve noticed when we were talking back at the diner that you never mentioned anything about your adopted father Bruce.” Y/N said. Jason let out a heavy sigh. He was hoping that she didn’t notice that. “We um had some sort of a falling out.” Jason said stumbling over his words a little bit as he put both of his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “You two don’t talk anymore?” Y/N asked with concern in her voice. “We only speak when we have to.” Jason answered as he avoided any eye contact with her. “What about your adopted brother Dick and his girlfriend?” She asked hoping he still talks to someone. “I actually talked on the phone with Barbara this morning. It’s been a couple months since I talked to Dick since he’s been going back and forth between here and Bludhäven.” Jason told her which made her feel a little more relieved.

“What happened between you and Bruce?” Y/N asked. She wasn’t sure if he was going to tell her, but it was worth her asking. “It’s a lot of shit that I just don’t want to get into.” Jason told her not wanting to get all worked up. She doesn’t need to get caught up into his family drama. “I get it.” Y/N told him.

When she stopped in front of her apartment building, he stopped and stood right next to her. “Let me see your phone.” Y/N said which earned her a confused look from him. “Why?” Jason asked her in a confused tone. “Don’t you trust me?” Y/N said looking up into his blue eyes. “More than anyone.” Jason said pulling his phone out of his back pocket of his jeans and handing it to her without breaking eye contact with her. He watched her type something into his phone. He just stared at her. She could feel his gaze on her as she put her attention onto his phone, but she didn’t say or do anything since his gaze on her made her feel comfortable and safe. She’s never felt more comfortable with anyone.

“There.” Y/N said handing his phone back to him. “I put my phone number in there so you can text me anytime.” She added. “Sounds good.” Jason said looking at her with a nod. Y/N leaned up and gave him a kiss onto his left cheek which took him by surprise. “See you around, Jason.” Y/N told him with a smile and then turned around, walking into her apartment building. Jason watched her fade away into the building. He felt electricity go into his body when her lips met his cheek. He felt like he was in paradise but of course that didn’t last long since he felt his phone vibrate in his hand.

When he looks down at his phone it lit up because of a text message. When he saw who the text was from his blood boiled right away.

********************

Jason really didn’t want to meet up with the person who sent him the text but he knew he had to if he wanted to the person to stay off his ass. Jason climbed his way up to the rooftop of the address the person sent him via text. He noticed that the person was there, yet which just annoyed him more. He was about to leave but he heard footsteps and a person say his name in a dark tone.

“I’m surprised you didn’t show up as your new persona.” The person told him. “You don’t approve of my new persona.” Jason told him in answer as he turned around to face him. “I mean it’s the least I could do since I’m such a fucking disappointment to you!” Jason snapped as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jason- “Batman started but he cut him off right away. “Why did you want me to meet you here?” Jason asked in a stern tone not in the mood to hear a lecture from his so-called father.

“Joker escaped from Archam.” Batman said getting straight to the point. “What else is new.” Jason said with a roll of his eyes sick of hearing the same old shit. “Listen Jason-“ Batman started but he cut him off right away. “No! You fucking listen!” Jason hissed with anger that he’s been keeping in since the moment he stepped foot onto this rooftop. “When are you going to fucking realize that no matter how many times you lock that clown up into a patted room, he’s just going to keep finding ways to break out and kill more people!” Jason said with frustration in his eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t save you.” Batman told him with nothing but guilt in his voice. “Will you stop fucking saying that!” Jason told him in a stern tone enough of hearing that sentence come out of his mouth. Jason could feel himself getting worked up, so he took a deep breath to calm himself down a little bit. “Bruce, I’m not upset that you didn’t save me.” Jason said looking down at the ground. “I’m upset that he’s still alive.” Jason added as his hands turned into fists. “What am I supposed to do!” Batman asked him with frustration. “End the fucking madness!” Jason snapped look back up at him. “If you were really a hero you would do everyone in this city a fucking favor and kill that crazy bastard!” Jason told him with fire in his eyes. “You know that’s not the man I am. You know that’s not the man I want you to be!” Batman told him in a stern tone trying to get through Jason’s stubborn mind.

Jason again looked away from him. It was quiet for a couple of minutes till Batman broke the silence. “Jason, please come home. Let me help you.” Batman said in a pleading tone. “No.” Jason said shaking his head. “It’s too late.” He added turning to walk away from him. “Jason!” Batman said putting his hand onto his shoulder which set him off. “GET THE FUCK AWAY!” Jason yelled turning around and punching him square in the face which knocked him to the ground. As Jason breathed heavy, he stared down at Bruce with anger. When Batman said his name in a soft voice Jason realized what he had just done which cooled him off. He looked down at the hand he just used to punch him and already noticed that his knuckles were already starting to bruise.

“Jason.” Batman said again getting back onto his feet breaking Jason out of his stare. Batman took a step towards him which made Jason take a step back from him. “Just leave me alone.” Jason told him and quickly turned away from him. Before Batman could call his name out again, he was gone.

🏷️ @calicocat45 @deimks @k0m0rixminttea @greeniegreengreen

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

Text

A War of the Heart - Chapter One | Luke Alvez x Fem! Reader

Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - Thirteen years ago, somewhere between the rolling desert and the trenches, you fell in love with your superior officer. Now he’s being introduced as the newest member of your team and feelings from the past are sure join him.

Category - heavy angst | smut | eventual happy ending

Content Warnings - talk of war time, superior / subordinate relationship, age gap (not a big one though), build up to smut, making out, some Spencer x Reader, mostly just set up.

Word Count - 3.7k

Chapter One

2010 - Diyala, Northeast Baghdad

The big thing they don’t tell you about serving overseas in the military is that a lot of the time, it was actually surprisingly normal. Sure, you’d spent time fighting in the trenches and on the frontline, but on the whole, army life was so much more ordinary than you’d expected.

A lot of your days were spent sweeping roads for bombs, or patrolling neighbourhoods, sometimes even visiting police and defence forces. Sometimes they were spent at the practice range or even in the little, but always busy, office building on your compound. Evenings entailed eating with your fellow rangers, sometimes playing a game of soccer in the dusty Earth out front. It had surprised you at first, but after all your years of active duty, you would relish in the mundane moments, knowing they never lasted all that long.

You’d been just twenty years old when you’d made the decision to sign up to the 75th Rangers Regiment. You’d always been a little wayward, never having much focus or a dream of where you saw your life going. Joining the army was a whim if you were perfectly honest, but now you’d been doing it for some four years, you couldn’t imagine yourself doing anything else.

Basic training had been anything but easy, between the rigorous physical training, combat skills, and weaponry training, you’d sometimes wondered what the hell you’d gotten yourself in for. It was the most difficult thing you’d ever put yourself through, but the sense of pride you felt after making it through those ten weeks was like nothing you’d ever felt before.

The army was probably the first place you ever felt you belonged. It challenged you every single day but you adored it with all of your heart. You’d made friends, some more akin to family. Non-military personnel didn’t understand what active duty was like, not the way a fellow soldier did, so you knew no one else outside of the army would ever get you the way they did. The army was your home, the rangers were your kin.

The small shower in your containerised housing unit hummed as it spat luke-warm water out of its faucet. The pressure wasn’t terrible, and the lack of hot water was often a godsend when you spent your day in the blistering desert heat in full fatigues. You let it roll over your skin, caressing you with its beads. You stayed under the flow maybe a little longer than was necessary, enjoying the privacy the private bathroom allowed you.

The housing on camp was admittedly better than some you’d lived in. Each soldier inhabited half of one of the prefabricated containers, separated from the other half by a large burlap curtain which offered some solitude even if they weren’t at all soundproof. You’d adorned your walls with a few posters, you had a little stereo system set up. It wasn’t like being at home, but it wasn’t half-bad.

You finally forced yourself to shut off the shower and stepped out onto the tiled floor, grabbing up your towel from the rack. Wrapping it around your body, you padded out from behind the curtain that divided the bathroom from the rest of the room.

A set of eyes stared at you from where he sat on the edge of your cot but you weren’t startled to see him. You mentally cursed yourself for not hearing him come in but you weren’t shocked by the intrusion.

He pushed himself to his feet when you entered the room, still in his cargo pants and tight fitting t-shirt that had probably been white when he donned it that morning. His bearded face was covered in smudges of dirt still, as were his strong bare arms.

“Sarg,” you wrapped your arms around your body, still dripping wet from your shower. “I didn’t expect to see you.”

“It’s been a hectic few weeks.” He spoke in that slightly rugged, New York drawl of his.

“It has.” You agreed as he took a few steps closer to you. “You look like hell, sergeant.” Your lip twitched at the corner into a smirk, knowing you’d never get away with talking to another sergeant the way you did him.

He chuckled that deep, wall shaking laugh of his, rubbing his hand over his messy facial hair.

“I feel like hell.” He countered, coming to a stop right in front of you. “But I can think of a few things that would perk me up.”

When his large, calloused hands raised up and clamped down on your bare shoulders, a shudder passed up your spine the way it always did when he touched you.

“But what about…” you nodded your head towards the flimsy burlap excuse of a wall.

“Don’t worry about Reynolds, he owed me one. I told him to go and keep himself busy for an hour.”

“You need a whole hour, huh?” Your smirk grew as he moved dangerously closer to you. He smelt like sweat and dirt and it was intoxicating.

“It’s been three weeks, Y/L/N.” He hissed, pressing his body flush against yours while his hands started down your biceps, barely ghosting your skin.

You clamped your legs together, feeling a heat spreading between them.

“My point exactly. You’d think after all that time you’d only need a few minutes.” You teased him.

Another thing they didn’t tell you about was that the intrinsic need for human connection didn’t go away just because you were serving overseas in the military. If anything, it was heightened, the need to feel close to someone was multiplied to the Nth degree under such harrowing circumstances. And you’d found that in the arms of someone who was technically your boss, most certainly your superior.

He was six years your senior with much more military experience under his belt. You’d met on your first day of deployment on this tour and from the moment he shook your hand, you’d felt the heat between you. It had taken less than two weeks for that heat to boil over. The first time he’d kissed you, you’d pushed him away out of instinct mostly due to the fact he was a sergeant and you were a private.

“We can’t do this. You’re my boss.”

But he hadn’t been deterred, he simply chuckled, a sound that would never not make you weak at the knees and kissed you again.

“You find me attractive?”

“Yes.”

“If I wasn't your superior, would you want me to kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s take rank off of the table, Y/L/N.”

Honestly that was all he’d had to say for you to allow him to take you to bed and it hadn’t been the last time. It had been some nine months now and you couldn’t say no to him if you tried.

One of his hands took purchase now on your waist, nails digging into the tawny fabric of your towel. His other travelled back up your arm and came to a stop on the item around your neck. It was a light, silver chain with a thin silver diamond encrusted antique ring hanging from it. He let his fingers brush over the pendant briefly before he suddenly cupped your jaw.

He held you in a way that was firm, not rough enough to hurt, but enough that told you, in no uncertain terms, that you belonged to him. As if you didn’t already know that. It forced you to look into his deep, dark eyes which had a habit of making you melt. He was gorgeous and he knew it. He could probably have any woman here but for some reason he’d chosen you.

His breath fanned across your face as he edged closer but he didn’t kiss you. His lips barely brushed over your own, causing an involuntary whimper to leave your throat. It made him laugh, he loved teasing you to the point you were a goddamn puddle in front of him. By day you were a strong, fierce army private, but in his presence you were a blithering mess, sometimes quite literally begging for him.

His lips moved across your cheek but didn’t quite touch your skin and then ghosted over the shell of your ear. His hand fell from your face to your chest where your towel was secured. With one flick of his wrist, the towel came undone and you let it drop to the floor, pooling at your feet.

He moved his head back a little, eyes casting down over your body that he’d long ago memorised every curve of. When he moved back closer to you, his lips once again brushed against yours, another pathetic whimper leaving your mouth.

He still didn’t kiss you as he brought his hands to your hips and gripped them securely, tugging you even closer so you could feel his growing erection through his pants.

“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled, his gentle tone a stark contrast to the way he held you.

You raised your arms and wrapped them around his neck.

“I missed you too, Sarg.”

He used his grip on your hips to drag you towards your bed where he pushed you back to the slightly hard mattress. You stared at him through hooded eyes and he smirked down on you while quickly dragging his t-shirt up his torso, over his head and tossing it somewhere behind him.

Small beads of sweat rolled down his hard abs, more dirt smeared across his defined chest. He was a work of art, there was no other way to describe him. It was as though he was sculpted, moulded into the perfect human form. His lip quirked into another smirk as he watched the way you looked him up and down.

“Like what you see, huh?” He chuckled, unbuttoning his cargos and slipping them over his ass and hips before letting them fall down his legs and stepping out of them.

“More so every time I see it.” You told him truthfully.

He laughed again but you knew by the look in his eyes that he could see right through you. Keeping his boxers on for the time being he finally climbed into your cot on top of you. He stroked your wet hair back off of your face and for a moment the lust in his eyes was replaced by something else.

“When do you leave?” He whispered, a knowing look in his eyes.

It was possible he could have heard on the grapevine, but you knew better. You found he often knew you better than you knew yourself. You’d clearly given it away in something you’d done or said. He was very apt at reading you.

A helicopter buzzed overhead, the walls rattling a little as it did so. You both ignored it, focused only on each other.

“How did you know?” You decided to ask to buy yourself more time.

“You’re never so nice to me,” he smiled a little sadly. “Normally if I asked you something like that you’d call me big headed or cocky. You’ve never once complimented me like that. So when do you leave?”

He was too astute for his own good, so much smarter than people gave him credit for.

“Five weeks. I’m being reassigned.”

“Where?”

“Afghanistan.”

You felt his chest heave with a sigh from his position on top of you and his eyes conveyed his sadness. But as quickly as it appeared it seemed to vanish again and he forced himself to smile.

“Well then,” he inched closer to you. “I guess we better make the most of the time we have left.”

He took hold of your face once again and butterflies erupted in your stomach as he got closer and closer, desperate for him to plant one on you.

The explosion of longing and need that coursed through your body was like no other feeling in the world when eventually he crushed his lips against yours and you finally got to kiss this magnetic man again. Even if it would all come to end sooner than the two of you planned. War always had taught you to live for the moment.

***

Present - Quantico, Virginia

The kiss was almost bruising in its force, something that was so unlike him. Usually he was much softer, careful as though you were made of glass and could break you if he were too rough. But after nearly a month away from each other his desperate need for you showed in that one kiss.

“Whoa there, at least try to keep it PG-13, remember where we are.” You laughed against his lips and he whined in response.

“It’s been almost a month.” He held your face in his hands, deepening the kiss.

“I’m aware,” you guided him gently back before he could get too carried away. “But we are at work.”

“Just let me kiss you,” he chuckled, stroking your cheek. “No one else is even here.”

He wasn’t wrong, the sixth floor office was empty at this time of the morning and you had missed him like crazy this past month. So when he leant back in to kiss you again, you didn’t stop him.

You’d both taken some much needed time off from the BAU, but your separate vacations had overlapped. He’d gone to Paris with his mom and gotten back a few days ago, while you’d gone to California a week after he’d left to visit some old college friends and today was your first day back at work.

When you joined the BAU two years ago, the last thing you’d been looking for was a relationship, least of all one with Doctor Spencer Reid. He was adorable and charming and certainly easy on the eyes but he was not your usual type. If you asked your friends what your type was they would give you one word: himbo. Brawn over brains was your typical cup of tea and Spencer couldn’t be further from that.

It was safe to say he’d worn you down over the course of the last few years. He’d made it clear he was interested in you and asked you out several times before finally, six months ago you decided to give him a chance. So far your usual type hadn’t worked out so well for you, what was the harm in letting Spencer take you for dinner?

The dinner had ended back at your place where the nerdy genius had more than surprised you with his skills in the bedroom. By the end of the night he’d rendered you delirious and from then on you hadn’t been able to stay away from him.

You’d tried to keep it a secret from the team but of course they were profiliers and it was only a matter of weeks before the whole team knew you were dating. It was easier that way, it meant at least if someone were to catch you right now as Spencer’s tongue slid back into your mouth and he pushed you up against the wall in the kitchen, it wouldn't be a complete shock to them.

“You’ve told me absolutely nothing about the new guy or about your trip.” You mumbled against his lips.

“Paris was great, and on the flight home mom managed to walk me through the whole thing unprompted.” He moved his lips to your cheek, pressing kisses against your skin. “And the new guy seems nice, he’s a great man hunter. Not sure what his profiling skills are like yet.”

His lips found their way back to yours again, silencing you once more. You let yourself succumb to him then, realising just how much you’d missed him. But it was entirely short lived as soon you were being sprung apart by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

Spencer pulled back from you, glancing at the entrance of the kitchen where your audience stood, smirks on their faces.

“Welcome back Y/N.” Tara laughed at the blush spreading across your cheeks.

“I see boy wonder has already rolled out the welcome wagon.” Garcia raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s been nearly a month.” Spencer straightened out his tie.

“I hope for both of your sakes we get out of here early tonight then.” Tara teased.

Spencer pulled a face like he was actually imagining the things he couldn’t wait to do to you and his frustration that he had to work all day first was evident.

“With escaped convicts still on the run, I doubt that but thanks anyway.” You smiled at Tara. “So someone needs to fill me in on this guy. Spence has told me next to nothing.”

“Urgh, must we talk about Newbie?” Garcia rolled her eyes behind her thick framed, lime green glasses.

“You don’t like him?” You asked but you looked between Tara and Spencer for answers.

“He’s not Morgan I guess.” Spencer shrugged.

“He most certainly is not!” Garcia huffed. “Mister tall, dark and blandsome thinks he’s all that.”

“He’s in the conference room with the others, come and meet him and decide for yourself. Don’t take Garcia’s word.” Tara motioned for you to follow her. “He’s an ex-military like you, you might find you have stuff in common.”

“Oh god, I thought I was done with army meatheads a long time ago.” You sighed as the four of you fell into step towards the round table room.

“Wasn’t he in the 75th?” Spencer frowned as he made the connection in his head. “You were in the 75th too right, Y/N?”

“It’s a big regiment, the chances of me knowing him are very…” you stepped into the room, eyes brushing past the others and landing straight on him.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you could hear the hum of a helicopter, feel the heat of the sun bearing down on you. The air felt thick and heavy like it did back in the Iraqi desert all those years ago. If you focused hard enough you could even feel the dust and sand clinging to your skin.

It couldn’t possibly be, but somehow it was. There he was in front of you, Sergeant Luke Alvez of the 75th Rangers Regiment, only older with much less facial hair. His caramel skin was less sunkissed and dirty than you remembered, his hair shorter and well tamed. He was still just as muscular as you remembered him to be. His tight grey t-shirt hugged his biceps and stretched across his strong chest.

He stepped forward, those eyes that always had a way of turning you to jelly never leaving you. His lip started to quip into a smile as he got closer to you but you couldn’t do anything but stare. Your heart hammered wildly against your chest, you were never supposed to see him again.

“Sergeant Alvez?” You croaked out, easily falling back into your army days, straightening your back and stopping just shy of saluting him.

Luke chuckled with a shake of his head, fishing in his back pocket for the new credentials Hotch had just bestowed upon him that morning.

“Actually it’s SSA Alvez now. As of an hour ago.” He smiled brightly at you. “It’s been a long time, Y/L/N.”

“Big regiment huh?” You heard Tara behind you.

“You two know each other?” Spencer frowned between the two of you.

“We did a tour of Iraq together, before I was reassigned to Afghanistan.” You spoke to Spencer but didn’t take your eyes off of Luke.

“I was her boss.” Luke’s eyes sparkled in a way you’d seen many times before but not for a very long time. It was the way he always looked right before he kissed you. “But we were-“

“Friends. We were good friends.” You cut him off before he had a chance to finish that sentence.

You turned away from him, just catching the smirk he sent your way as you did. You felt your cheeks burning a hundred shades of red.

“You can catch up later,” Hotch thankfully spoke up. “We’ve got a case.”

One day you’d have to thank Hotch for his perfect timing. For now you fell down into a chair next to Spencer and tried to ignore the looks Luke was sending your way while Garcia delivered the case details.

Luke Alvez. Luke fucking Alvez. Of all the jobs in all the world, he had to encroach on yours.

You had absolutely no doubt in your mind that things were going to get messy.

***

The case took the team to Los Angeles where two teenagers had been burnt to death in an abandoned building. It took its toll on JJ more so than anyone who always had a habit of getting a little too close to cases involving kids.

But JJ would be the least of your concerns. Even on the jet out to California you felt Luke’s eyes on you even when someone else was speaking. You tried to ignore it but he made that really difficult to do. And if you noticed it, it probably meant everyone else had as well, you couldn’t hide things from profilers.

Once the case talk was over, conversation had inevitably turned to you and Luke’s past. You hadn’t even touched down in LA and you already wanted off of this case.

“How long did you serve together?” It was Spencer who asked the question, and you didn’t miss the suspicion in your boyfriend's tone.

“Uh, what was it Y/L/N? Like nine months?” Luke’s lip was twitching into a smirk.

“Something like that.” You agreed, focusing out of the window.

“How long ago?” JJ joined in the line of questioning.

“It was two thousand ten. So almost thirteen years.” Luke finally looked away from you at JJ.

“And that was the last time you saw each other?” It was Rossi’s turn to ask.

If anyone noticed your back go rigid thankfully no one mentioned it. You turned away from the window at the same time Luke looked back at you. A silent understanding passed between the two of you, somehow even after all the time you were still so in sync.

“Yes.” You spoke simultaneously.

After that the line of questioning seemed to end and you all fell into companionable silence. But you kept feeling Luke’s gaze lingering on you.

#luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x fem!reader #luke alvez fanfic #luke alvez fanfiction #luke alvez smut #luke alvez angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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