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crescenthistory · 1 month ago

Text

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”.

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade.

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.”

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression.

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you.

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.”

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot.

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside.

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.”

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started.

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’.

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth.

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight.

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him.

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love.

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming.

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean?

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared.

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you.

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?”

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.”

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles.

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help.

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner.

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily.

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth.

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe.

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t.

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him.

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read.

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.”

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it.

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?”

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right.

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now.

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

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slut4nicholas · 3 months ago

Text

𝙊𝙃, 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙄 𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀 𝙎𝙄𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘿 𝙄 | 𝙁𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀

a/n: i haven't started the show yet, so I'm not familiar with his character in this show. please forgive my cluelessness during this fic.

summary: the reader goes to the church to confess to the priest that she recently sinned. however, the father decides to have some fun of his own.

warnings: mention of religion, 18+, missionary, loss of virginity, oral(fem & m receiving) fingering, nipple play, praise kink, pet names like doll,sweetheart,baby, mentions of anal, spanking, degrading, corruption kink, almost caught

˖⋆࿐໋

growing up in a religious household, i have developed a deep appreciation for my catholic roots. whenever I feel overwhelmed by sadness, anger, or depression, I find solace in the church.

today i couldn't help but feel a tremendous amount of guilt. i found myself hanging out with a boy, and things got a bit physical. even though we didn't go too far, i couldn't help but feel ashamed. i had promised to wait until marriage, but these uncontrollable desires keep creeping up. i've decided to go to the church to talk to the father about my recent activities and confess my sins.

as i made my way to the church, i felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. i'm meeting with father charlie, a young and attractive man who’s also the priest at the church, which is not something you typically expect in the church. i haven't had a chance to speak with him one-on-one yet, so im feeling a bit apprehensive about what our conversation will entail.

i open the big doors to the church to see it completely empty just to find charlie sitting down on one the church benches.

“hello there” he calls out.

"father, there's something weighing heavily on my heart that I need to share with you," i said as I hurried to sit next to him.

i can feel that irritating uneasy sensation in my stomach. I didn't even give him a proper greeting. the guilt was so overwhelming that it made me stumble over my words.

"what is it y/n?" he turns all of his attention towards me, his big brown eyes digging into mine, as if anticipating something significant.

“i don’t know who to talk to, i can’t talk to my parents about this especially my own father. i’ve been feeling really guil-“

he interrupted me with a gentle smile and placed his hand on my shoulder, assuring me that everything would be okay and letting me know that he was a safe person to talk to.

“father, i need to confess something. i kissed a boy, and he kissed me back. he started to touch me, but i stopped him. i made a promise to the lord, and i feel terrible for breaking it”

as the tears welled up in my eyes, i instinctively dropped my face into my hands, seeking refuge from the overwhelming emotions.

"hey, it's going to be okay," charlie said in a gentle, caring tone as he stroked my hair, trying to comfort me.

“now tell me, did you guys fuck?”

as those words reached my ears, i couldn't help but look up at him, shaking my head as the tears continued to fall.

oh no, i hope he's not going to make me feel even worse.

“no father i swear-“

"shh, no swearing in the church," he said, raising his finger to his lips with a smirk. the irony wasn't lost on him, considering he had just dropped the f-bomb.

it was so quiet for a whole minute, and I started feeling really awkward. i had come all this way hoping for some advice or comfort, but it seemed like he just didn't care.

as I stood up, charlie grabbed my arm, forcing me to sit back down. “i didn't say you could leave. where do you think you're going?”

he replied coldly, smirking, “always so forgiving. it's kind of pathetic”

i stared at him, utterly perplexed, not really sure what he was talking about.

“father, isn't forgiveness what the church is all about?”

“sometimes, but in this case, i really want you to show me how sorry you are. otherwise, you're just going to keep committing the same sin over and over again. you don't want that, right? you don't want your parents to find out how desperate their innocent little girl has become, do you?"

i couldn't believe what i was hearing from charlie. i never expected him to act this way, let alone say things like this. i was at a loss for words and didn't know how to react. all i could do was nod in agreement. the last thing i wanted was for my parents to find out.

“father, i think i should go”

"why are you suddenly so shy, doll?" his hand on my chin made me tilt my head to stare at him.

"you don't think i notice how you look at me during mass when I'm speaking on the stand? you've become so needy that you sometimes cross your legs to stop yourself from feeling those emotions you want to avoid so badly," he says while caressing my cheek, gently rubbing his thumb on my bottom lip.

"i know you think of me taking you to the point where you can't even think straight, cum dripping out of you while i use you for my pleasure. you don't think i notice that? the way you avoid eye contact with me”

“i don’t know what your talking about father”

charlie’s hand rested lightly on my thigh, sending a spark of electricity coursing through my body. as his fingers inched toward the top of my skirt, pushing the fabric up just a little, my breath caught in my throat. each slow movement seemed to stretch time, heightening my senses and igniting a thrilling tension i couldn't ignore.

it felt deceptively wrong—the kind of reckless abandon that sent a shiver down my spine—but the anticipation was intoxicating, and I craved more. my mind raced, caught between instinct and hesitation, as the warmth of his touch settled into a deep hunger, one i found increasingly impossible to resist.

i glanced up, searching his eyes for a sign, a cue that this was more than just a fleeting moment. we held a playful challenge, a promise of the passion we both knew was simmering beneath the surface. my heart raced with excitement and fear, the boundaries of right and wrong blurring into a sweet confusion. with every breath, i felt the world around us fade away, lost to the undeniable chemistry pulsing in the air. i didn’t want to stop it; I wanted to let go completely and dive headfirst into whatever was coming next.

“do you want this as much as I want this?" charlie's voice broke through the haze of my thoughts, causing my heart to race in an unholy rhythm. i felt his gaze resettle upon me, a weight both thrilling and terrifying. my mind was a jumble, each beat vying for clarity as i struggled to focus on anything but him.

his eyes—the deep pools of mischief and longing—held me captive, swaying me like a fragile leaf in a rising storm. the blueprint of his desires flickered behind those intense brown eyes, and my cheeks burned with a shameful blush. I could hear the hymns of the service fade into background noise, a distant echo that paled against the ferocity of this moment.

what was wrong with me? i shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here—certainly not in a house of worship. my skirt brushed against my legs, reminding me of the innocence i used to wear like armor, now discarded in the face of this ravenous yearning. charlie wanted me. craved me. it was a dangerous temptation that had taken root within me, whispering sweet nothings that urged me to give in.

the candlelit corners of the church bathed in shadows, the lure was overwhelming. each passing week at mass had been an exercise in restraint, a careful balancing act over a precipice of emotion. seeing him near the altar in his crisp shirt—as though god himself had stitched him together purely for me—seemed more sublimely wrong every time.

as his eyes swept over me, i wondered if he could sense the tension glittering between us, thick and electrifying like charged air before a storm. j licked my lips, torn between the sanctity of the aisle and the allure of his promise. "I need you, doll. I can't deny it anymore," he murmured like a sin freshly minted from temptation's forge.

i felt a tumultuous wave of conflicting emotions surging within me. the whispered prayers seemed empty as an overwhelming desire ignited like an uncontrollable inferno. "father” i gasped, but the air escaped me, filled with forbidden possibilities. despite everything, all i could focus on were his lips drawing nearer to mine, as if the world around us faded away, leaving only the intense magnetism between us.

in that sacred moment, beneath the flickering lights, surrounded by silence begging to be heard, we hovered on the brink of something vast and insatiable. would we give in? would grace curdle into passion? ignoring the whisper of consequence felt like my true struggle—should we tiptoe across this brittle line, or confess that hunger has only one unyielding answer? together.

as I processed what was happening, a surge of warmth enveloped me, and i found myself surrendering to the moment. his lips danced across the sensitive skin of my neck, light as a whisper but charging the air with electricity. a small moan escaped my lips, betraying the whirlwind of emotions stirring within me. i could feel his smirk, a secret shared just between us, brushing against my skin, simultaneously teasing and thrilling.

his hand roamed over my thigh, a firm yet gentle grip that sent a shiver cascading through my body. "that's it, such a good girl for me," he purred, his voice a low whisper that thrummed like a melody in my ears, both lustful and tender. each word dripped with a promise, igniting the fire kindling deep within me, blurring the boundaries between desire and surrender.

lost in this intoxicating closeness, i reveled in the sensations; the world beyond shifted and faded, leaving only his teasing caresses and the seductive intimacy that enveloped us—a balance of power and vulnerability, inviting me to cross the threshold into unknown territory.

"father, i really don’t think we should be doing this here. It just doesn’t feel right. what if we get caught?" i watched as charlie sighed, rubbing his forehead in frustration, clearly torn between desire and caution.

"you’re right," he replied, his voice low and raspy, "but it’s late, and I don’t think anyone’s going to wander into the church at this hour. just relax, sweetheart."

i hesitated for a moment, then nodded, the thrill of the forbidden sending a shiver down my spine. i reached out, intertwining my fingers with his, bringing his hand to my lips and sucking gently on his long fingers. his eyes locked onto mine, filled with a primal hunger that made my heart race. i could see it in his expression—the desperate need to claim me, to tear away any barrier between us.

the air was thick with anticipation, and i could almost feel the weight of his longing as he shifted closer, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. the dim light from the stained glass windows cast a soft glow around us, amplifying the intensity of the moment. i could sense the tension building, a thrilling mix of danger and desire, as he leaned in, caught in the magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together like moths to a flame.

we were on the edge of something wild and reckless, and in that sacred space, everything felt possible.

charlie withdrew his fingers, his intention clear as he replaced them with his warm, teasing tongue. it slipped into my mouth, exploring with a fervor that sent electric shivers through my entire body. he held my neck gently yet possessively, urging me closer, deeper, igniting a fire that burned between us.

i kissed him back with equal intensity, a thrilling battle for dominance that left us both breathless. the taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mixture of desire and urgency that made my heart race. every flick of his tongue ignited a wave of pleasure, pooling low in my belly and making it almost impossible to think straight.

the heat of the moment consumed me; i could feel my body responding instinctively to his every move. the sweet tension built inside me, and i knew i needed him—needed to feel him against me, to drown in that wild connection we shared. my panties were already soaked, a testament to the overwhelming desire coursing through my veins.

charlie pushes my panties to the side allowing his already wet fingers from my saliva to dance around my clothed heat growling like a predator hungry for its prey “let me show you how a real man is supposed to make you feel darling, those little boys wouldn’t know how to handle something so precious like you. i can make you feel so good you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for days”

as he pumps his fingers in out of me the sweet sounds filling up the quiet church was enough for the both of us to go crazy “more father please” he smirked at my neediness removing his fingers out of me putting them up to mouth to signaling me to suck the sweet juices off of his fingers then going back in for a quick rub of my clit

charlie stood up getting ready to unbuckle his pants but before he could even do that a voice filled up the quiet room which caused me to jump and act quick closing my legs and hiding my exposed area “father charlie i’ve been looking everywhere for you” an older lady shouts from across the room as she appears to be in desperate need of his help

he sighed and i took that as my sign to leave before we both do something we might regret later, charlie keeps his gaze on me the entire time “hi, ill be with you in a moment” he spoke up the lady stops in her tracks wondering what a young woman was doing here at almost midnight with the priest of the church she was curious but nothing crossed her mind as she was desperate to talk to the priest

charlie followed me out of the church closing the door behind us “this isn’t over sweetheart” he placed a kiss on my forehead as he walked back into the church.

˖⋆࿐໋

a/n: omggg i hope you guys like this!! i’ve spent almost a day and a half working on this just for you all especially the person who requested this, i will be making this into a little series since it was getting pretty long! anyways i really hope you guys enjoyed this, remember feel free to request anything!

#nicholas chavez smut #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez x reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez #nicholas chavez imagine

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anakinstwinklebunny · 2 months ago

Note

Okay, could you possibly write something about Sam being a teen dad? It could be headcannons or a fic, whatever you’re more comfortable with, i just see him as being moody especially because you asked him not to smoke around the baby and stuff like that..

Author's note: someone teach Sam how to be a dad :(( why do i even have only three fics with emo boy?!?!? What is wrong with me. Thank you nonnie for the request!

TW: swearing when the child is near

you walked up the path that lead to the park, your eyes scanning for none other than SAM MONROE. The stroller wheels squeaked slighty as you passed yet another happy family, wishing you had what they did. Seeming to be happy mother, devouted father..it wasn't like you weren't happy, but constant fights and arguments with sam brought a feeling in your heart that maybe you aren't the family you wanted to be..and with that, your mind easily wandered to the argument you'd had this morning with your boyfriend

it wasn't anything new -- he was moody, stubborn, and defiant at times. But this time, it was about something important - smoking around the baby. Youd asked him so many times, pleaded, and he always nodded, promised to do better, yet you couldn't shake the feeling that it was all slipping through the cracks

as you approached the bench, your blood ran cold. there he was, sam, sitting with the baby in his lap, casually holding cigaratte between his lips. Your nine-month-old son was nestled against him, tiny hands reaching fro sam's shirt, completely unaware of the situation at hand.

"Sam!" your voice was sharp, anger and panic rising in your chest. With practical, long steps, you snatched the cigaratte from his mouth and crushed it beneath your shoe "what the hell are you doing?"

sam looked at you, surprised, but then his brows furrowed and all his mood shifted from calm to defiant in an instant "What the fuck, y/n?" he hissed, gazing how you took the cooing baby from his lap, your arms tightening protectively around him

"What the fuck?" you echoed, your voice now incredulous "you're smoking -- while holding him, Sam! Are you kidding me?" you could feel your blood boiling

standing up, he scoffed, wiping his hands on his jeans like he could brush off the confrontation "it wasn't even lit anymore" he muttered, avoiding your gaze but you could hear the defensiveness dripping from every word

how it was all stupid.

"that's not the point!" your chest tightened, the air in your lungs transforming into pure frustration "How could you even think that's okay? I've asked you so many times not to do this, and you don't take it seriously at all!"

sam's face hardened "i said it wasn't lit. I wasn't blowing smoke in his face or anything, damn" he ran his hand through his dark hair, clearly frustrated as well that you've caught him yet still unwilling to back down

how could he even say that with such an ignorance to the health of your child?

your voice cracked, holding back tears. You were so tired of repeating him the importance of doing what's right. And every time, you felt as if you were speaking to some teenager that can't understand the basic information of moraly "that's not enough, sam. it's not just about whether it's lit or not -- he's breathing in the chemicals on your clothes, in your hair..What if he gets sick, have you ever thought about that?" you looked down at your baby, who was blissfuly unaware of the storm brewing between you two, and it only caused to make your heart ache even more

sam's jaw clenched at your words. of course you'd say that "I'm doing the best i can, alright? i am trying" his voice tight, as if he was on the edge of snapping "I didn't mean to hurt him..You think i don't care about him?" his hand gestured towards the baby

kind of..

the lump in your throat grew, tightening its hold around it like a snake "i know you deep down care about him..but true caring about him means listening when i say stuff like that is dangerous. You can't just...act like it doesn't matter..he's your son too"

at your words something had softened on sam's expression, as if the weight and true responsibility of being a father finally kicked in. He looked around the park, catching the glimpse of other people, laughing kids, steady, warm weather..but when his eyes moved back to your direction, his mask of indifference slid back into its place "It's not like im out here smoking around him every damn day, y/n. I was just having a break, alright? I needed a minute.." he said before adding "And i thought you trusted me with him" the words stung your heart -- it all sounded like he was trying to turn this around on you, make you the bad guy. But not this time

your brows furrowed, and you gently put the giggling boy back to his stroller, giving him his toy to keep his occupied. "This isn't about trust, Sam. It's about keeping him safe" you bit back the urge to yell -- yet you tried to reach the part of him that cared, the part that loved your son as much as you did "he's just a baby. he doesn't know what's dangerous, but we do. You do"

Sam sighed heavily, his eyes finally meeting yours, the defensiveness melting just a little. He looked tired, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, and in a way, you understood. This was hard for both of you—being young parents, trying to balance your own needs with the responsibility of raising a child. But there was no room for carelessness, not when it came to your son.

"I know," Sam mumbled, rubbing a hand over his face, his posture slumping. "I know you’re right." His voice was quieter now, almost reluctant, but it was the closest thing to an apology you were going to get. "I just... I didn’t think it was a big deal. I didn’t mean to make you freak out."

You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the fear there—the fear of messing up, of not being good enough. But that didn’t make this okay. He thought it wasn't a big deal? Was education illegal for him? "I’m not freaking out because I want to. I’m freaking out because I love him, Sam. And I need you to love him enough to do better."

For a moment, there was silence between you, just the sound of your baby babbling softly in the stroller, his tiny fingers grabbing for his toy. Sam’s eyes flicked down to the baby, and you could see something soften in his gaze. He reached out, gently brushing his son’s hair back with his hand, and you felt a pang in your chest. He did love him—so much—yet he was making such basic mistakes

You sighed, glancing around the park as the sounds of laughter and play filled the air. “Just give me your pack of cigarettes, okay? I can’t trust you to not smoke if you have them with you.”

He looked up, disbelief etched on his face and you swore you could feel coming back to the point zero. “Seriously? You want me to hand them over like I’m some kind of child?”

“I’m serious, Sam. You need to make a choice—your son or those cigarettes?” You folded your arms, your gaze unwavering.

He hesitated, and in that moment, the baby’s wails grew louder, pulling Sam from his thoughts. “God damn it,” he muttered, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the pack of cigarettes. He handed it to you, his expression a mix of defeat and anger. “There. Happy now?”

You took the pack from him and tossed it into the nearby trash can. “It’s a start,” you said quietly. “But it’s not just about cigarettes. You have to change your mindset. You can’t keep putting yourself first.”

Sam watched you, frustration still simmering again (hopefully the last) beneath the surface. “I know. I just... I’m trying to figure it all out. I never expected to be a dad at nineteen.”

“I didn’t either,” you replied softly, glancing down at your son, who was finally starting to calm down in your arms. “But we can’t do this alone. We need to work together. You need to really think about what being a dad means.”

"I’ll try," Sam said quietly, his voice rough around the edges. "I’ll try harder. I promise"

You nodded, swallowing back the lingering frustration. "That’s all I’m asking for." You glanced down at your son, who was now staring up at Sam with wide, curious eyes. "We’re a team, okay? For him."

Sam looked at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he nodded, his expression softening just a little. "Yeah. We’re a team."

"now c'mon, we're going for a walk"

Did I forgot to add someone to the tag list? Or someone doesn't want to be on it anymore?

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @deceptiive @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless

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bunny-jpeg · 9 months ago

Text

bright as the morning

simon "ghost" riley

cw: plus sized!reader, smut, pwp, body worship, possessive behavior, jealousy, age (early 20s/mid 30s), simon can pretty much bench-press you, oral sex, missionary the mating press

bunny says: like fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? request your own! (title inspired by hozier's 'too sweet')

there was a period of time you thought you were ugly. you thought guys either ignored you or made comments because of your size. the sight of you made them gag and they'd rather be single than date you. even now with more confidence, you still couldn't believe when men hit on you.

you were waiting for your boyfriend at the mechanic's shop. you were in nothing too special, just wanted to join simon as he got his car. but you were adamantly listening to a mechanic around your age talk your ear off about cars. you thought he was just being nice.

but then you felt the presence of your boyfriend. the air got cold when he was near and he looked over you like a shadow, "the car's here."

you looked over and smiled up at your lover. he took your hand in his hand and headed away from the mechanic. you tried to keep in pace with him but his strides were just too big. then in front of the car, he looked over at he other man and pulled you close to him and kissed you through his mask.

"my doll." he said quietly, "was he causin' ya any problems?"

you looked up at him and shook his head, "nope. he was just being nice."

he chuckled, "yeah... nice. let's get ya home, i heard you were makin' me somethin' special for dinner." then pulled away but kept his eyes on you.

you smiled, "it's canned soup, simon." and turned away to get to the other side of the car. you could feel his heavy gaze on you as you got into the vehicle. simon got in soon after, you didn't even notice the look he gaze the other man as he put his hand on your thigh.

he pulled away for a moment to put the keys in the ignition, but it was soon back on your thigh as he pulled away and headed home. the entire way home, his large hand was on your thigh. his strong fingers squeezed a little at their softness.

"are you okay?" you asked as you looked to him. you placed a hand over his, the roughness of his knuckled brushed against you palm.

"fine, love." he said gruffly.

you sighed, "i know you better than you know yourself then. tell me, did the mechanic over change you?"

"nah." he said, "just some punk talkin' to my girl."

you raised an eyebrows, "simon. he was just being sweet. nothing to be jealous over." you patted his shoulder and continued to look at him.

he replied, "after all these years, ya still don't know how beautiful you are." then looked over quickly to reach over and pinch your round cheek, "prettiest damn girl i've ever seen."

simon knew exactly how he was going to show how beautiful he thought you were. he liked how your thighs touched together, he loved the roundness of your face. he loved how you felt in his arms. you never held a gun, you never had to starve while on missions. you were content with the life you led up to that point. it wasn't marked by violence. you were safe enough to be a little softer around the middle, and simon though it was beautiful.

even if all your personality was extracted, he would still worship you like a devotee. worshiped your softness, kiss the plush skin. perfect.

you were in your bedroom and simon had you in his arms. he was pulling the t-shirt over your head. you wiggled out of it and helped him get off your body. he dropped the shirts then felt you up, his hard grasp lingered around your arms. he toyed with your breasts and groaned to himself.

his mask had long since been taken off. you could see the scarring on his lower face. as he played with your curves, you leaned up and kissed him on the scar on his chin.

he sighed contently, "he can't have this. only me." he let out a short chuckle through his nose before he went in for the deep kiss. he thought of the young mechanic who was trying to hit on you. it wasn't that he couldn't believe that someone would flirt with you, he just didn't get that someone couldn't see that you were already a taken woman!

no one else was allowed to flirt with him, but him!

he soon dropped to his knees and pulled your pants down. then soon your underwear followed to around your ankles. he spread your thighs a little and dipped his head between your legs.

you let out a small noise and tangled your hands in his blond hair. your face felt aflame from his attention. you said, "simon!"

he chuckled, "too sweet." he kissed your thigh, "too sweet for me." then continued to orally pleasure you. he felt his soft thighs in his hands was a feeling that made him excitement.

you quivered a little and he held you up against him. you held onto his hand as his tongue lapped against your clit. you tasted like a dream, while a weaker man would expect his girl to taste like candy. but the nature taste of your wetness made his cock strain in his jeans.

"shit... simon." you whimpered.

he continued to lick at your sweet pussy and marveled in the sounds that you made. it was music to his ears as he heard you. he wanted to make sure you knew how good you looked to him.

a lesser man would ignore you for your size, but what did they know. simon knew better, he was a real man. and he loved a partner who was soft. meant it let him protect you.

he pulled away and looked up at you with wetness staining his chin. he said, 'c'mon, love. get those legs around my head." and then slowly got you up on his shoulders with your pussy right in his face once more.

he held you up by your lower back and continued to pleasure you orally. when he hit a sweet spot, your thighs clenched around his head. he made sure you were secure up there. perfect against him as made you feel good.

and with your hands in his hair, he felt amazing. his cock strained against his pants as he held you up. he often told you that it was like a bag of grapes when he picked you up. he was trained to hold up a lot more, so it was quite easy for him to pick you up.

you yelped from the sensation of his tongue on you, you panted as you held his head tighter. his forehead up against your stomach. it was a sore spot to acknowledge, but he knew how to make every inch of you feel special. even if you were insecure.

"always mine, doll." he said softly, his kisses littered the soft skin of your cunt. his touches were forms of worship across your back. he was a devotee to the religion of your love. he remembered the first time he made you orgasm on his fingers, he felt the thump in his chest. his cold heart shattered into a beating organ.

he had found a life post-war. something beyond blood and conflict. a place he could nestle his aching bones and rest. you had opened your heart and home to him, and he would be forever grateful.

it often shocked him that you weren't the most confident woman to ever exist. but he'd just have to show his worship every day until you believed it too.

he raked his blunt nails down your back side and over your ass before he held onto you lower back once more and tried to get as deep as he could against your cunt.

"please!" you whimpered, "i can't cum like this."

he said something then smacked your ass. he groaned between your thighs. it was his mission now to make sure you came on his tongue. he could hold you up all day if he had to. he felt you tense up and his assault on your clit gave way for you to hold onto him tightly and kicked out your legs as you finished on his tongue.

he chuckled as he got up slowly and headed to the bed. he placed you down gently and gazed at your naked body. simon saw the birth of venus painting when in a mission in italy. but he could believe he was seeing it for a second time when he looked at you.

you looked up at him, your face felt hot as you rubbed your wet thighs together. you didn't know what to do with your hands so you held onto the covers under you as you watched your boyfriend strip down into nothing.

that strong body, with a little more insulation than when you first met. but he was strong and imposing. he could still kill as effectively as he could when he was in the military. you swallowed and covered your face.

"don't hide from me. i want to see it all." he said as he gazed down at you.

you moved up the bed and he got on top of you. he handled you easily and with care. he loved the feeling of your softness against him. you felt like a dream, a warm heat he could find comfort in.

he didn't want anyone else to have you. he wanted you all to himself. to enjoy and love. to make him feel complete as he rubbed his cock up against your slit him holding your legs.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

he continued to rub up against you, teasing your pussy before he sank his length into you. he was tempted to pin you down to the bed, but he liked when you got all shy. he found in endearing when he made you blush so much that you hide yourself from him.

"do you like that?"

"love it."

he then slipped his cock into you, he sank in easily thanks to all his work on your pussy. he held your legs up as he pushed in fully. he exhaled deeply as he felt the air leave his chest.

you tried to kick out your legs once more but he kept them pinned to him as he started to rock back and forth. he moved against you, letting your wetness give him access to the deepest parts of you.

he moved against you and you held onto the bed under you.

"you look amazing." he said, "i wanted to kill that guy for talkin' to ya. i want you, and i want you all to myself. you're too perfect. all mine."

you looked at him and replied, you breathed deeply, "i only want you too, simon. i wouldn't want anyone else." you felt yourself get dragged as he got off the bed and held you up by the hips a she pushed down into your cock which almost left you in a mating press.

you felt your stomach in your throat as he pushed down into you. the sounds of sex filled the air as the two of you fucked on the bed you shared.

"i think you're just perfect." he said, "no other girlie like you. you make me wanna be a good man."

you replied innocently, "you are a good man." if you only you knew what he had done before he met you. he leaned forward and kissed you once more which squished your further.

he thrusted into you at a quick but steady pace. he watched your face changed the more he brought you pleasure. you were a sight to behold in front of him. he watched your body move against him, your curves shake with his movements.

you two fucked on the bed, well at the edge of the bed. it wasn't long however before you two felt close to orgasm. he cotninued to thrust into your body, he loved the feeling of the two of you against one another. it was a comforting feeling.

he thought you were sexy, but also a place of comfort for him. a place where he could rest his head and find content with life. he just thought you were amazing. the perfect woman.

with another hard thrust, he finished inside of you. and soon you clamped around his cock and came around it. you held onto the covers for support as he railed you. once you were over the tip of your orgasm, you felt the fight leave your body.

you both got to the top of the bed and cuddled in each other's arms naked. he rubbed your curves and kissed at your neck. he could feel the sweat on your neck. he sighed contently.

"simon."

"yes, love."

"you really do think i'm pretty?'

"i don't think you're pretty. i think every woman should be jealous of you." he chuckled softly as his lips went into your hair where he buried his nose in your strands. you were his mornings, afternoons and evenings, and no snot nosed mechanic is going to get in the way of that. <3

xoxo, bunny

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peppermintquartz · 2 months ago

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I really love your fics! I'm in a bad flare up rn and want someone else to suffer, so my bucktommy prompt is: hurt/comfort and chronic (chronic pain, chronic illness, etc)

The thing about having a repaired left leg is that, no matter how good it holds up, it still carries the memories of the damage. Some days Buck is able to ignore any mild twinges of discomfort and focus on his work. Other days, like today, he is giving serious thought to chewing off the limb with his own teeth.

No one notices him white knuckling through the last call of the shift, which is good, because the last thing Buck wants is to be unable to hold up his own end. But the pain is a constant throbbing soreness that occasionally deviates into a stabbing agony, and he has to take slow, deep breaths to keep walking. He almost wishes it was a fire they had been responding to, because then adrenaline will help suppress the aches and pains.

In the shower, tears of frustration and agony are pouring from his eyes, disguised by the tepid spray. He manages to hold it together until he gets to his locker, when his left leg decides that it is done for the day and buckles abruptly, sending him to the floor.

"Buck?" Eddie hurries over and helps him to the bench. "What the hell? Did you strain yourself?"

"I'm fine," Buck says, perspiration beading over his brow. "I just need a couple minutes."

Eddie stares at him. "As if. I'll drive you home."

"No, don't," Buck grits out.

"You're in no shape to drive."

"No, I meant, drive me to Tommy's." Buck hates the way his voice wobbles. "No stairs to the guest bedroom."

With a sympathetic pat on his shoulder, Eddie sits with Buck until the latter is able to stand, and they walk/hobble to Eddie's truck. Bending his leg to get in the truck brings tears to Buck's eyes.

Before he starts the engine, Eddie asks, "You want to text Tommy? Or do you want me to give him a call?"

"I have a key, I can let us in."

Eddie snorts. "Not about that. I meant, to help get a hot bath ready, prep your painkillers, sort of thing?"

Buck almost says no. Almost. Because if he had asked this of Taylor or Natalia or Ali or even Abby, it'd have felt like an imposition.

But this is Tommy. Tommy likes making sure he's comfortable, likes keeping him warm and fed and happy.

"Yeah, you can call him," Buck says quietly.

He rolls the hem of his tee shirt in his fingers as Tommy's voice comes over speakerphone. Eddie updates him rapidly, and Buck tries not to tear up when Tommy immediately says, "I'll get everything ready. Drive safe, Eddie, and Evan, sweetheart? Don't worry, I'll take care of you once you're home. See you in a bit."

Eddie hangs up. "He's a good one."

Buck bites his knuckle when another spasm of pain ripples through his left leg. Yet it feels almost bearable now that he has Tommy's care to look forward to. "Yeah, he really is."

#tommy kinard #evan buckley #bucktommy #tevan #eddie diaz #pq writes

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zeezelweazel · 10 months ago

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Could you write a bottom Leah smut where they are long-distance and meet each other again during national duty Leah is desperate so R takes her to the showers/a random room or Smth and she has to be quiet. 💕

Leah Williamson| Together at last|

______________________________________

So sad Leah has had yet another injury :(

I've gotten so many requests for bottom leah I can't wait to get through them all (I'm debating on writing a lia fic as well but idk) sorry this one wasn't really proof read

TW: semi public sex, fingering, degradation

____________________________________________________

You love camp. It's always great to get close with the girls, spend time with them while doing the thing you love most, playing football.

Undoubtedly the one thing you like the most about camp is that you get to be with Leah. Your captain and girlfriend that you adore so much but so rarely get to see. With Leah playing in England for Arsenal and you playing in Spain for Barcelona you don't get to see eachother very often. Which only meant that when you did get to see eachother you were very touchy. The entire team teased you for your clinginess but you wouldn't trade these camps for the world.

Your teammates, fortunately, didn't exactly know the extent of your clinginess either. The moment Leah looks at you, you can see it clearly in her deep blue eyes, the absolute need for you to wreck her. Which is something you can't do during camp but that doesn't mean you'll leave your loving girlfriend needy.

You're always in the mood for her, so when Leah tries to drag you away to the showers you fail to contain the knowing smirk spreading across your face. You've been watching Leah for quite a while now and the way the blonde was bitting her lips and squirming around in her cubby bench gave it all away. Leah isn't scared to drag you in a random room in the training facilities and have you fuck her there. You've done it a million times now. Usually she prefers having you all for herself but right now she needs you.

You both quickly get rid of your clothes and jump on one of the shower stalls. Your giggles are interrupted by the water falling down on your naked bodies. Leah sighs and rolls her shoulders, finally feeling her tense muscles relax. You take the opportunity to slide in behind her and put your hands on her sides. Leah hums appreciatively when you start moving them up and down her body with your fingers brushing her breasts just enough for Leah to remember what you're here to do. The blonde gasps when your fingers drop lower and softly tease her inner thighs only to climb higher once again.

Before Leah can react you move your hands up and grab her tits, squeezing the tender flesh harshly. Leah's whine turned into a yelp when you pinched her nipples and you chuckled at how desperate she was already with her knees buckling and her head thrown back at your shoulder.

"Are you wet for me baby?"

Leah chokes on a whimper when you answer your own question by running one of your fingers through her wet folds. The running water does nothing to mask how her juices stick on your fingers. You present your digits to Leah who immediately takes them in her mouth and sucks them clean. You feel her moans vibrating on your fingers when she tastes herself on you. You don't waste any time before plunging two fingers in her wet cunt and Leah moans, loud and high pitched as if you two aren't fucking on public showers.

"Keep your fucking mouth shut you slut."

Leah brings her hands up and grips your biceps while you continue moving your fingers rapidly in and out of her. She bites her bottom lip hard, desperate to keep the noises to a minimum. You smirked, knowing exactly how loud Leah gets you're sure she's not going to be quiet for much longer.

You decided to take advantage of the milky skin exposed and you leaned in to suck and kiss along the length of her neck. Leah's head spins with all the pleasure but it's not enough to sent her over the edge.

The captain starts grinding her hips against your hand and when the palm of it hits her clit delightfully Leah lets a loud whine escape her throat. Your reaction is instantaneous, your hand stills inside her and the other one came down against her ass with a loud smack. Leah gasped and squirmed when your hand made contact with her ass once more. You chuckled before gripping her head and twisting it so she looks directly in your eyes.

"Do you want everyone to know that you're a whore?" Leah squeals when you pinch her clit harshly. She tried to squirm out of your hold but you were stronger, your hands keeping her pressed firmly against you. Leah secretly loves disobeying you just to rile you up so you fuck her so good she can't walk the next day.

You scoffed when Leah clenched around your fingers and started moving them again. This time you decided to help her by angling your hand just right. With your fingers hitting her soft spot repeatedly and your palm grinding against her throbbing clit, Leah was anything but quiet. Moans and whines left her mouth completely uncontrollably and you were sure that if anyone walked outside of the showers they'd hear your girlfriend being absolutely wrecked by you.

"What if one of the girls is outside right now huh? How do you think they'd react to their captain being a fucking slut?" Leah moaned louder and grinned in delight. The fact that she was enjoying this made your head fuzzy. The thought that your girlfriend was getting off at the prospect that there might be someone listening to her being fucked was making your own stomach pool with heat.

"Gods I'm close! Please, harder!" You chuckled once more and removed your hands from Leah completely. Before the blonde could start begging you pushed her against the wall so that you two are now face to face and you finally kissed her. Your tongue made way into her mouth and you both groaned when your tongues brushed against eachother Leah took your hands in hers and led them to where she needs it most.

You slipped two fingers inside her wet hole and with your thumb you rubbed her clit. All of Leah's whimpers and moans were swallowed by your mouth while your fingers pushed her closer to the edge. Leah's thighs clamped down around your hand and you knew she was close.

Leah comes soon after with a silent scream but your hands continue their shallow and strong thrusts. When Leah comes down from her high you are already busy with lathering your hair. She smiles and wraps her arms around you.

"Round two when we get back to the hotel?"

____________________________________________________

#wlw #female reader #smut #woso x reader #bottom character #dom reader #sub character #woso #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso smut #woso imagine #leah williamson smut #leah williamson imagine #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader

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hotchner-edu · 5 months ago

Note

hiiiiiii! your hotch fics are chef's kisses~ is it possible to request one where r and hotch are on a running date (totally hotch's idea & r is STRUGGLING lol)? <3

Morning Jog (Drabble) | Aaron Hotchner

The warbling of sparrows danced around in the treetops above you, the morning twilight melting away into soft blues as the air stiffened with dew. Looking forward, you could see the ocean of tree leaves swaying and jittering from the bristles of wind that whizzed through the air.

All of the beauty surrounding you in your local park was however lost on you as you felt your muscles searing in agony. With every step you took, it felt like pins and needles were being torched and inserted into your tendons.

"Aaron, wait... can we stop for a second..." You huff out, puffs of air leaving your chest as you rest your hands on your hips. The cold air stuck to your lungs and made the journey all the more agonizing.

Aaron stops a few paces in front of you, hardly having worked up a sweat. "Sure, sweetheart. Do you need some water?"

You wave off his question and tip your head back to look up at the sky. "My muscles... are disintegrating."

"That's just the lactic, honey." Aaron chuckles fondly and checks his watch. "We've done a little over a mile, do you want to keep going?"

You plop down on a nearby bench, legs completely jelly. "Aaron?"

"Yeah, sweetheart?" Aaron hums sweetly, walking over to massage your legs gently.

"I love you, but please don't ever put me through this again. I think I'm done with running dates. My ego is fragile enough as is." You grunt out, only half-serious as you feel his large fingers deftly working to soothe your muscle aches.

Your boyfriend lets out a deep chuckle and kisses your knee. "That's a shame then. I just ordered that new compression shirt after all." His words are light and brimming with temptation, twisting your resolve and wringing it out onto the concrete as you mouth quirks into a frown.

"What was that?" You croak out, resolve already faltering.

"What was what, honey?" He teases and grins at you brightly, still crouched beside you and squeezing your calves.

Furrowing your eyebrows you lean forward a bit. "Why must you insist on torturing me like this?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He says playfully and stands up again, offering his hand to you.

Grumbling, you lazily take his hand and let him lug you onto your feet.

"Do you need me to carry you to the car?" He asks and rests his hand on your lower back.

"And save me all the public embarrassment? I think I'll be okay." You say sarcastically and chuckle softly. "And don't you usually run like three miles? I can just wait on the bench while you finish up..." Your voice grows softer, feeling bad that he has to cut his routine short on your behalf.

Aaron gives a small shrug, and a lazy smile tugging at his lips. His next words are overflowing with suggestiveness as his fingers trace circles on your back. "Usually I do, but I have an idea for how I can make up for my morning cardio."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds aaron

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madhatterbri · 7 months ago

Text

You | D.P.

Summary: hello ^^ is it okay if i request Damian Priest x Fem!Reader where she feels secretly jealous of the constant attention Damian gets from women ever since he became World Heavyweight Champion and they just keep flirting with him. So the reader kind of like distancing herself, and it makes Damian wonder why. When another new week of Monday Night Raw came and Damian finally caught the reader before the show starts and brought her to the locker room backstage. Reader explains the reason why and then Damian just goes on to prove how much he loves only her and then they make love in the locker room :3 i'd like it to be a fluffy smut, please if its ok hehe. Smut. 18+.

Other Damian Priest fics can be found here.

Requested by anon

Taglist: @plentyoffandoms @brideofinfamy @mrsarcherofinfamy @theworldofotps

Y/N wasn't a jealous girlfriend. At least she didn't think so until he won his championship. She was so excited for him. All his hard work finally paid off. Damian was finally getting the recognition he deserved. Nothing could rain on their parade until it the other women decided they wanted to entertain him.

He was friendly to them. It was part of his job to not be a jerk to the fans. Yet they started bothering them even when it wasn't when they were at the arenas. Even date nights, the fans would talk to him. He kept the conversations brief at first. Then he started having full conversations with them. She would just keep walking to not just stand around. As time wore on, Y/N felt ignored.

Y/N started to build a wall between them. She would talk to Damian, but her mind was elsewhere. The sting of being inadvertently hurt by him sucked. He brought it up a couple of times, but she blew it off. It wasn't until he hadn't seen her at all before an episode of Monday Night RAW that he had to talk to her.

"There you are," Damian smiled upon seeing her. The show had a few hours before they aired.

"Here I am," she chuckled. Damian grabbed his fingers and linked them together.

"Let's have a chat. I feel like I haven't seen you all day," he urged. Before she could turn him down for a talk, he led her inside a locker room. It was away from everyone else to give them privacy. He locked the door behind him. "Talk to me. You have been distancing yourself and suddenly I have to look for you,"

"I'm just feeling a little jealous, I guess," Y/N sighed and sat on the bench. Damian took a step back. He didn't know where this was coming from.

"Why, mi amor? What happened?" He asked and took a seat next to her. He rubbed her back softly. She rolled her head around and took a deep breath.

"All the women that throw themselves at you now. They are so pretty, and I just miss when it was the two of us, D. Now I feel like I have to compete for your attention," she sighed and nibbled her bottom lip nervously.

He chuckled softly and shook his head. "There is no other woman, Y/N. You were here from the beginning to the end. Trust me when I lose that title they will be gone. But you know who is still going to be here? Y/N,"

Tears welled in her eyes. She cleared her throat and blinked them away. All the doubts and questions seemed so silly now. Damian loved her and only her. She leaned in and kissed him.

"I want to be here, Damian, always," she promised. He pulled her closer to him. Their sweet kisses turned into something more. She straddled his lap. Their make-out session started to heat up. Damian shifted, so she lay on the bench.

He complimented her as he placed kisses against her face and neck. She sighed happily once she felt him reaching for her underwear underneath her skirt. He threw her underwear behind him and teased her clit. Y/N gasped and moaned in his mouth.

"Don't worry, I got you," he assured her. He ran his fingers between her folds before sliding them inside her entrance. "The only woman that can make me feel like this. I want to spend my life with you,"

Y/N moaned in agreement. She didn't remember life before him. When they met, they instantly connected. Nights on the road were spent together. Times when they were away were filled with phone calls and text messages.

He curled his fingers inside of her. She gasped and balled her fists to keep quiet. The roster would have a field day in knowing they got caught having sex. He smirked and slid his fingers out of her. The archer of infamy slid his pants and underwear down. He positioned himself at her entrance.

"Now you shy?" He teased and slid inside of her. She bit her lip and whined. Damian grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He was gentle, wanting to prove to this woman that she was his everything.

More compliments were lavished on her. All her doubts were now gone. He picked up his pace once they were getting closer.

"Come on, sweetheart. I'm here. I got you," he promised. With one more thrust, their bodies were joined in utter bliss. He waited until he was ready to pull out.

"That was perfect," she blushed.

"You are perfect,"

#wwe fanfiction #wwe fanfic #damian priest fanfiction #damian priest fanfic #damian priest x reader #damian priest x y/n

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shadowkoo · 1 year ago

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Baby Maker

→ Summary: You and Yoongi have been relishing the comfort of your newly married life, savoring each moment together. However, there's an additional want tugging at your heartstrings – the thought of becoming a mother. That’s right, you want a baby. Yoongi isn’t sure if he’s ready for the journey of bringing a baby into your lives. But he’ll agree to anything that makes you happy, and if it’s a baby you want, it’s a baby you’ll get.

↠ yoongi x f.reader | 1k words | 18+ ↠ genre: slice of life, romance, fluff, smut, newlyweds

→ Warnings: unprotected sex (intentional), daddy kink, impregnation kink, deep dicking, belly bulge, oral (female receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie

→ Author note: This is a remix/update of an older fic of mine, so I hope you enjoy the newest version! If you'd like to read this on ao3 instead it's been crossposted here! And as always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3

You wrap your arms around your husband the second he walks through the front door of your home.

"Mmm, I've waited all day for this," you whisper before pulling him into a long kiss. One of your hands cradles his cheek while the other plays with his hair.

"Well, hello there Mrs. Min," Yoongi says with a sideways smile sprawled across his face after pulling away, "What's got you in such a good mood?" He takes off his blazer and sets his work bag down on the bench in your entryway as you pull him into another lengthy kiss, one that makes Yoongi's groin stir with excitement.

You smile up at him and start to unbutton his top as you pull him further into your home, your end goal being the bedroom.

"Baby?" he asks with dark eyes, "Are you planning on spoiling me with dessert before dinner tonight?"

You laugh, "Baby, I don't want dessert... I want a baby."

Yoongi's face changes from one of eager anticipation to confusion, then to pure and utter shock.

‘Did all the air in the room suddenly disappear? Why aren’t you having trouble breathing like he is?’

"I want to make a baby with you," you repeat, looking into his fear-filled eyes. You figured he'd be a little freaked out, but not this much.

He coughs and sputters, pulling at the neck of his button-up shirt. "You, uh, b-baby?" Yoongi mutters once he’s able to form words again.

"Yes, a baby," you took a step back from him. "It's been almost three years since we've gotten married and talked about having kids in the future. Don't you want a mini you or me to love, to watch them grow, to teach them stuff?"

Yoongi is conflicted, not because he doesn’t want kids –he does– but it scares the shit out of him. That's a whole life to take care of and be responsible for. He knows how much you want a family though, and how patient you have been with him about trying for kids.

You give him that one look - the one that you know will get you whatever you want.

"Alright,” he says, easily won over. “Let's make a baby," he answers while pulling you back into his arms.

Yoongi brings your center up against his. You feel his growing hardness pressing into you through his jeans, and moan through the kiss. You want him.

And he wants you.

His kisses are hot and needy, but somehow still so very loving.

Yoongi lifts you up and carries you urgently the rest of the way to the bedroom, where he lays you down, ready to fuck you. To love you.

Your hands work on his shirt's buttons, undoing them as fast as you can. His run along your hips, making their way to the front of your jeans where he works to undo them, and slips them and your panties off simultaneously.

Your husband keeps eye contact with you while one of his hands slides slowly up the inside of your legs, right up to the edge of your dewy folds.

“Is this pretty little cunt ready for me?”

You nod frantically, and moan uncontrollably when his tongue dives deep into your core. He savors you, his tongue playing your clit like it's the most intricate instrument.

Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you hold his head in place while he finished you off. You come undone all over his face, his cheeks showing evidence of your release once he pulls away from you.

“I’ll never get tired of your taste,” he breathes. And it’s true, you’re intoxicating. He’s addicted to you.

Yoongi stands up, pulling you towards the edge of the bed, where he then rubs his throbbing cock through your folds, wetting himself just enough to dip into you.

He nearly loses himself, but manages to power through and find a rhythm that has you both heading in the right direction.

His low moans sound like heaven to your ears.

You pull him closer to you until your lips crash together, moaning into each other's mouth while you climb higher and higher.

Needing to sink even further into your heat, he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, pounding you from a new angle and bringing you closer and closer to the release that you crave.

“Who’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow? Who’s putting this baby in your belly? I want you to scream my name,” he demands.

“You did,” you pant. “Min Yoongi did.”

“Fuck!” Yoongi grits his teeth as he watches the way your lower belly bulges, matching his hard thrusts.

"I’m so close,” you cry out, your nails digging into your husband’s biceps. “Cum in me," you whine, pleading for him to release into you. Yoongi is more than happy to oblige.

"I love you,” you breathe as the waves of pleasure wash over you, the tingling spreading through your veins.

“I love you more.” Yoongi grunts, his final thrusts becoming more sporadic as he passes the peak, and fills you with his seed. His face twists in pleasure as your pulsating walls milk the last from him.

You’re satisfied feeling his warm release shooting up inside of you. A big grin won’t leave your face, “Thank you.”

He considers making a dick joke, but he doesn’t want to ruin the moment. “You’re welcome, baby,” he says, kissing your cheek.

You roll over onto your back and lift your now tired and heavy legs in the air, and Yoongi gives you a perplexed look. "What?” you ask, "I've heard that this makes the sperm find the egg faster."

He thinks you look ridiculous in the best sort of way, and joins you. "I gain nothing from this but I figured I'd do it to support you."

"You're such a dork." But you love him for it.

"You know what you have to call me later if this worked?" Yoongi asks before answering his own question before you even have the chance. "The baby maker."

Your giggles filled the room and Yoongi can’t help but laugh along with you.

"Alright," you sighed once you calmed down, "I just figured you preferred daddy..."

That same look from earlier flared up in Yoongi's eyes once again, "I'm open to negotiations."

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evagaetinosgirl · 4 months ago

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FALLING DEEP | e.de almeida x reader

summary: all elisa wants after a bad game is you.

author notes: this is a special fic for my bestie @moonystoes 🩷 since this dumb bitch be dying for elisa fics. i changed the whole plot from what she originally wanted, but hey beggers can't be choosers 🤷🏾‍♀️ the rest of yall enjoy too!

contains: elisa de almeida x reader, elisa is lowkey a little insecure about her football skills, fluff/comfort, based after brazil's quarterfinal win at the olympics (might not be accurate so just chill), lesbians being lesbians

playing break from toronto by partynextdoor 🎵

elisa hates losing. she wouldn't even call herself a competitive person, but it's just something about losing that irritates her. especially when it comes to something she wants so badly, like getting far in the olympics.

after the regular ninety minutes, then nearly nineteen minutes of stoppage time, france just couldn't get a goal into the back of the net. getting a draw then going into penalties would feel way better than just not having a goal at all. at least france would have something to show for themselves, but no, the whistle is blown, and the game is officially over, and elisa's heart feels like it's breaking apart. trying not to cry is a challenge within itself. it's a home crowd, and still france couldn't pull through; it feels a bit embarrassing to elisa. especially as a defender, the french player strongly believes that if her team can't score, then she should be able to stop most goals coming near the net but that's not what happened.

france was messy this match, that can't be denied. the exhaustion of playing games with only a day of rest had gotten to them, and this is the outcome.

time feels like a blur as elisa goes from the bench to the locker room. the tiredness from the tournament is starting to really set in. not just the physical exhaustion but mentally as well. elisa definitely needs a twenty four hour nap when she gets back home.

when everyone is in the locker room, that's when the words of comfort are spoken. elisa can't focus on that much when her brain feels like it's turning to mush, so she just blocks everything out and waits for the talking to stop. her mind drifts off to the only thing (well, person) that could bring her a sense of comfort right now: you.

that soothing voice of yours flows into her mind, distracting her from anything else. you couldn't make it to the match due to work, which elisa isn't even annoyed about anymore. she would be embarrassed out of her mind if you saw that performance of hers in person. even though she knows you will watch the match eventually, that's still better than elisa looking into the crowd and seeing your shining eyes look at her.

fianlly wendie stops talking, elisa gets up to go shower right away. a few others go to the showers as well. the french player takes a shower longer than usual until the water runs cold. when she steps out of the shower, picaud is stepping out of her shower as well.

"are you feeling alright?" the taller woman says. elisa lets out a hum at the question. she doesn't answer for a moment, changing into a nike tech set. when she's changed, finally she says, "i feel.. okay. it is what it is, you know."

"yeah.. you played good though, don't beat yourself up about it," picaud says.

good.. suree elisa thinks to herself before turning to see picaud is fully dressed as well. the defender shrugs, "you played good too. everyone did, we were just not connecting."

"don't be so hard on yourself. i know how you get," picaud pats elisa's shoulder before leaving out of the showers. elisa doesn't answer but follows after the goalkeeper. the only two left in the locker room beside picaud and elisa is katoto and sakina.

sakina looks up from her phone when the two walk into the locker room, "finally. everybody else is on the bus, so we can go back to the hotel." katoto grabs her bag then picaud and her leave out of the locker room first, leaving sakina and elisa.

the moccoran looks at elisa as the defender puts some of her things into her bag. sakina can clearly see the down mood elisa is in, anyone would be able to just by looking into the defender's eyes. when elisa finishes packing, then makes her way to the door, sakina follows. when the two of them step out of the locker room, sakina speaks, "don't beat yourself up about the match, eli. we all played like shit."

the bluntness of sakina's words makes elisa laugh. sakina laughs, too. the mood lightens a bit as they reach the bus. with them being the last ones to get on the bus, they have to sit next to each other, obviously. the bus is mostly quiet, which is expected after being knocked out of a major tournament at home.

elisa's mood drops again as she closes her eyes. the movement of the bus should be calming her like it usually does, but not this time as all she sees when she closes her eyes is brazil's goal followed her performance in the match before she was benched off. then her mind drifts off to you, and elisa realizes she hasn't texted you since the match ended. the french player wasn't thinking about her phone at all after the match. she especially wasn't thinking about social media, already knowing the team is being tore apart for their performance. good thing she deleted twitter before the match.

anyways, back to you, elisa pulls her phone out of her pocket of her pants. she immediately sees the notifications of the messages you sent to her. seeing that even when you're busy, you still find a way to support her makes elisa feel all warm inside.

y/n 💕

play well my love ❤️❤️

sorry i sent the message late 😓 it's busy over here!!

are the first messages elisa sees. they were obviously sent early on the match. she usually would have seen them at half time, but with the team not playing the best, half time was focused on trying to fix what's going on. she looks at the other messages you sent,

y/n 💕

i finally have some free time

i saw the score 💔 so sorry for you and everyone else baby

i haven't watched the game yet but i'm sure you played well

elisa smiles at the messages. even though they remind her of the entire reason her mood has been down since the last whistle was blown. still, they make her feel better anyways. she reads the rest of your messages that are mostly just checking up on her after noticing she didn't reply to your previous ones then asking her if you can come over to the hotel where france is staying.

y/n 💕

i can sneak into your room once i get off?

elisa 💛

you don't have to sneak but yes okay ❤️❤️

y/n 💕

okay baby ❤️

elisa slips her phone back into her pocket, then leans her head against sakina, who side eyes her but lets it slide. for the rest of the bus ride, elisa just looks at sakina's phone, which is playing some tv show she doesn't care to know.

the team reaches the hotel, and everybody gets off the bus. everyone make their way to their own hotel rooms (thankfully, france allowed everyone to have their own room) with elisa and sakina exchanging "goodnight"s before going into their hotel rooms.

elisa closes her door behind her, letting out a sigh at finally being able to truly rest. she drops her bag near the closet then slips off her shoes before heading to the bathroom to shower.

forty minutes later, and elisa comes out of the bathroom. she's wearing a robe while letting her hair air dry. elisa doesn't check the time because if she did, she would realize your shift at work ended ten minutes ago and that you're probably on your way over to the hotel.

she absentmindedly changes into some pajamas before going to sit on her bed. elisa only gets a few scrolls on her phone in before hearing a knock at the door. the french player internally groans, not really wanting to deal with anyone right now. still, she gets up and answers the door. her entire mood changes when she sees it's you.

"hi baby," you hug her the moment she opens the door. she hugs back, pulling you into the room. she shifts you two slightly so she can close the door.

after a few more minutes, you pull away from her. a soft smile on your lips as you say, "i didn't even have to sneak in."

"told you so," elisa chuckles, then pecks your forehead. you pucker your lips for an actual kiss, and she obliges, kissing you. the two of you pull away to breathe.

"missed you.." you say while moving away from elisa slightly to slip off your shoes. then you grab her hand and pull her towards the bed. you fall onto it first, then elisa falls right next to you onto the mattress. you giggle before pulling her close, letting her snuggle her face into your neck.

elisa murmurs into the skin there, "missed you more."

the two of you lay in silence after that, you gently playing with her hair. elisa just lets out soft hums as she closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth of your embrace. her mind feels so calm that she doesn't even think about the match or what everyone is saying online. all she has to think about is right now, being with you as your hands play with her hair and she listens to the beating of your heart.

you enjoy the comfortable silence, but you think about the match and its result. you already know how elisa gets after losses; in a mood of blaming herself for mishaps of the game. the french woman truly believes most weight lays on the shoulders of defenders, so when she fumbles it, she feels like shit. you debate in your head whether to say anything about it or not. in the end, you decide it's best to say at least some comforting words. elisa has a bad habit of keeping her emotions to herself and doesn't vent as much as she should.

"so about the match.." your words knock elisa out of the nearly sleep state she was in. she doesn't say anything, but you can feel her slightly grip on your waist.

you continue, "don't put all the blame on yourself, love. it's a team sport at the end of the day."

elisa doesn't reply right away, letting your words sink in. of course, you're the rational one between the two of you. still, she wants to cling to the feelings of self-doubt and regret that linger from a match that ended hours ago.

"i played like shit," is what she ends up saying. her bluntness doest surprise you. based on the score you knew she would feel this way. it makes sense truly. that doesn't mean you agree with the statement.

"you all played like shit obviously," you say, giggling when elisa moves her head from your neck to give you a look, "not in that way, dumbass. i meant that teams have bad days sometimes and sometimes they happen on the days of the most important matches. that's football."

you and elisa shift positions slightly so you two are facing eachother face to face. your noses are kissing and you're looking straight into her eyes. some slight regret lays in her eyes, but at the same time you see some acceptance.

acceptance of the match outcome or her performance? you don't know, but either way it's better than the emotions you knew she felt earlier.

elisa smiles, "you're right.. still it's so frustrating how messy we are when it matters most."

"hm.. rant to me about it?" your right hand goes to her hair, starting to play with it. elisa smiles again before moving slightly to peck your lips.

"okay."

elisa rants all her frustations out about the national team for nearly a hour. somehow she ends up with her head on your chest. after that, the two of you watch your favorite tv show until you both fall asleep.

author notes: first fic now that i'm back from my writing break 🫠 this is cute and simple and i hope you guys enjoyed it!

#elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #woso fluff #woso fanfics

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ironstrange1991 · 8 months ago

Text

A Night Like No Other

+18 Smut

Pairing: Doctor!Strange, Defender!Strange, Supreme!Strange x Female!Reader

Synopsis: It's Valentine's day night and you prepare a special night for your Stephens.

Word Count: 9,5k

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship dinamics, a little jealousy, mostly brain rot SMUT: oral sex with male and female receiving, vaginal and anal sex, double penetration, creampie, cum eating (There's probably more but I don't remember)

A/N: I'm so happy to finally be posting this fic. I know it's two months late, but I've put so much work into it that I really can't believe it's ready. I really hope you guys like it and have a great read ;)

"Not this one." You murmured, looking at your endless collection of heels in your closet. "No, definitely not this one. Maybe… this one." You took a pair of red sandals in your hands, but then changed your mind when your eyes found the perfect pair you knew you were looking for. A pair of black Christian Louboutin pumps.

You stood on tiptoe to reach them and then you smiled mischievously to yourself heading to the bedroom bench and put them on. It had been a while since you wore those and you couldn't deny that you felt so powerful in them.

You folded your legs on the bench, positioning your feet so that your heels were clearly visible and took a photo, sending it directly to your three main contacts and giggling to yourself while writing the most cliché pick-up line you could think of at that moment.

WHEN YOU GUYS GET HOME TONIGHT, THIS IS ALL I'LL BE WEARING. ♥️

You replicated the message to the other two Stephens, reading it out loud to make sure the message was clear enough: You were waiting for the three of them that night to celebrate Valentine's Day.

You remembered perfectly the fiasco that was the last one. Okay, maybe it wasn't that bad, but it definitely could have been a lot better. It had all happened because you weren't clear enough about what you wanted for the night, or at least you convinced yourself that it was your fault. You found you always put the blame on yourself so you didn't need to blame one Stephen or the other, but the truth was that navigating between the ego and jealousy of the three of them was the hardest thing you've ever had to do in your life.

It didn't take long for your cell phone to buzz with a response.

I WOULD ENJOY SO MUCH MORE IF THE SURPRISE WAS JUST FOR ME, BUT I CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME TONIGHT.

You didn't need to read the name at the top of the message to know it was Supreme, but even if it was hidden behind jealousy, you could capture the anxiety he felt about returning home and it made you smile from ear to ear. God, you had been with the three Stephens for a little over a year and a half, but you seriously doubted you would ever get used to the way they made you feel. Every time they came home you felt butterflies in your stomach, each loving message made your heart flutter in your chest. It was beautiful and scary at the same time.

You left your shoes on the floor next to the bench and went back to the closet, slipping into jeans and a jumper.

As you were grabbing your bag and keys and heading to the doors to leave you heard the familiar hiss of a portal opening and a smile played on your lips before you saw it was just Wong.

"You shouldn't look so disappointed every time I come in. It's offensive." He said. You never knew when Wong was being serious or not, so you rushed to defend yourself.

"Today is Valentine's Day. I have reasons to be anxious for my boyfriends to get home."

Wong nodded as he dragged some boxes and then closed the portal. "Good thing you reminded me. That's reason enough for me not to want to be less than half a planet away from this Sanctum tonight. As if three Stranges wasn't reason enough."

"You say that, but I know deep down you can't live without Stephen, Wong." You smirked, unable to hold your tongue.

He scoffed "Yeah, right. Defender isn't that bad. The other two are the problem."

"Do not tell me that." You agreed "I'm going to the grocery store to get some things to prepare dinner. Do you want me to bring you something? I'm going to go near the Sandwich bar that sells that tuna melt that you love so much..."

"It's very kind of you to offer, but unfortunately - or fortunately - I'm returning to Kamar Taj."

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow then. Bye."

"Bye."

When you parked in parking lot you heard your cell phone ringing and ran to answer it when you saw Stephen's name on the display.

"Hello you"

"Sending indecent photos to distract me from work. You should be embarrassed, sweetheart."

"Really? And what's indecent about the photo of my feet wearing those shoes?"

You can almost see him smirking on the other end of the line before replying, "Other than the message you sent with it, you mean?"

You giggled to yourself "And how effective was my attempt to make you want to come home sooner?"

"Hm, very effective."

You were surprised by the sound of a horn and two drivers fighting each other.

"Where are you?" Stephen asked.

"Walmart’s parking lot. I came to get some things to prepare for our romantic Valentine's Day dinner that you guys have been owing me since last year."

"That's great. And how romantic will this dinner be?" He teased.

"Very romantic. The kind where you have to dress all nice for me and wear that cologne of yours that I love."

"Noted. It's a shame I'm going to have to share you tonight, I'd much rather have you all to myself."

You found yourself rolling your eyes and agreeing one hundred percent with Wong, Stephen and Supreme were indeed the problem.

"Behave yourself" You scolded him, taking your bag and walking towards the store entrance. "It's important for me to have you three tonight. I've wanted this for so long..."

"You just had us together last week" He groaned in frustration.

"I'm not talking about... sex, Stephen" You had to lower your voice to say the word as you picked up the cart and headed towards the produce section.

"Really? I must have been fooled by the photo and message you sent half an hour ago."

"Shut up. Of course sex is a big part of tonight, but it's not just about that. It's about being together, talking, listening to music and having good wine."

Stephen hummed "Romance."

"Exactly. Just because you've already won over the girl doesn't mean you don't need to be romantic anymore, Stephen."

He chuckled "I leave the romanticism to Defender, he's better than me at that... and pretty much everything else apparently."

You sighed, finishing picking up the vegetables and heading towards the refrigerators where you hoped to find a good piece of meat to roast with them.

"I love you, Stephen, but please, no display of jealousy tonight. Please?"

"Okay, I'll behave, I promise."

"Thank you."

"I need to go. See you tonight, love."

"See you, Steph."

You turned off your cell phone and put it in your pocket and dedicated yourself to getting the rest of the things that were missing and walked towards the cashier.

...

You weren't exactly a great cook like Defender, but you always had a willingness to learn and some skill so you could even say that you were good in the kitchen.

You chopped the vegetables that consisted of carrots, onions, green beans, broccoli and tomatoes and dedicated yourself to seasoning the meat and put everything together in a pan wrapped with aluminum foil and put it in the oven for what you knew would be at least 2 hours.

While you waited, you decided to take a shower and took the opportunity to shave every inch of your body to make it smooth to the touch. You blow-dried your hair and used a styling mousse and put it in curlers. You took the opportunity to do all the steps of your skin care and applied lotion all over your body, taking the opportunity to use some body oil to give your skin a little shine. You didn’t even notice time passing while you were distracted taking care of yourself and being surprised by the alarm you had set on your cell phone so as not to let you forget about the roast in the oven.

You put on a robe and went downstairs.

The roast was practically done, so you got rid of the aluminum foil, drizzled the meat with more olive oil and just a little fleur de sel and returned to the oven to brown.

When you heard your cell phone buzzing you wiped your hands and rushed to read the message and smile to yourself feeling your heart fluttering in your chest.

ALWAYS A TEASE, BABY. CAN'T WAIT TO GET HOME, JUST A FEW MORE MINUTES AND I'LL BE IN YOUR LOVELY ARMS. LOVE YOU SO MUCH.

You dedicated yourself to preparing the sauce for your pasta and left the pan full of water and salt on the stove, but besides that, everything needed to be put on hold because it was already past 6pm and you knew they would arrive at any moment and although the dinner was an important part of your evening, you were determined that sex should come first.

You turned off the roast, but kept it in the oven and prepared the table with a beautiful red tablecloth, positioning the plates and cutlery, glasses, and, of course, the candlesticks. A romantic dinner needs candlelight.

Once everything was organized, you went upstairs to finish getting ready. You let down your hair that fell in perfect waves to the middle of your back and put just a little gloss on your lips deciding that there was no reason to wear makeup since soon you would be with your face being pushed into the mattress. You smiled mischievously to yourself feeling the desire built inside you. You put on your heels and kept your promise not to wear anything other than them, keeping only the robe on until at exactly 7pm you heard the familiar squeak of a portal.

You smiled, feeling your cheeks get slightly warm and, taking off your robe, you left the room towards the entrance hall.

...

Stephen smiled to himself as he read the text you sent him. He would have replied it instantly if he hadn't been stuck in a meeting with the Avengers. Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were going over all the details about the next mission and although Stephen knew the importance of resolving the problem as soon as possible, he was not at all happy about having to participate.

Supreme was at the meeting too, and Stephen could see the smile on his lips as he read a message on his cell phone that Stephen was sure was exactly the same as the one he had read. You wouldn't make the mistake of not being democratic in your provocation, not after the events of last Valentine's Day. It was extremely important to you that the three of them knew that you loved them equally.

Supreme quickly typed a response without bothering to be discreet, but Stephen preferred something more intimate, so he just put his cell phone back in the pocket of his robes.

"We will be in unknown territory, dealing with forces of which we have no knowledge..." Steve Rogers was pointing out the importance of concentrating on every detail of the plan, but was then cut off by Stark.

"Yeah, yeah, supernatural stuff. That's why we'll be taking with us not one, but two wizards."

Stephen rolled his lips, uncomfortable with the use of the wrong term. He wasn't a wizard and Stark knew that because he had already explained the difference a hundred times, but now Stephen was almost certain that Stark was referring to him that way to provoke him. Supreme, on the other hand, interrupted him, deciding to explain to the small Avengers audience.

"The correct term is sorcerer. Wizards are born with magic, we learned it with a lot of study and effort, although for us it came almost naturally."

Stark rolled his eyes, but continued with the explanation.

When the meeting ended Stephen managed to sneak into an empty room and call you. He wanted much more than just calling, he wanted to leave immediately, but first he needed to get back to Kamar Taj.

Once he and Supreme managed to leave the Avengers Tower, they headed directly there where they met with Wong and Defender and discussed matters relating to the maintenance of the Kamar Taj itself, the teaching and training of students, and the protection of the three Sanctums of power of the Earth. When the small informal meeting ended, Stephen looked at the clock realizing that it must already be almost 7pm in NY and was quick to decline Wong's offer to stay for tea.

"We have an appointment at home." Stephen explained evasively, but Wong smirked as if he knew more than Stephen could imagine.

"Sure, sure. Valentine's day and all. Y/n is planning a special night, I imagine."

Stephen nodded. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"You can call us if anything happens, as always." Defender added to what Supreme contradicted.

"Definitely not tonight. There are dozens of other masters you can call, Wong. We're off for the night and probably a good part of tomorrow as well."

Wong didn't bother to respond. He just closed some books that were on the table and organized them into a pile, picking them up and heading out the door.

"What a fucking day! I thought it would never end." Supreme complained.

"Let's go home" Defender said with a tired sigh and Stephen opened a portal being welcomed by the delicious smell of food and the realization of finally being home.

...

Defender Strange was sure that nothing in the world could be better than coming home and being greeted by his wife, but when he saw you coming down the stairs completely naked wearing only the heels you showed him in the photograph you sent earlier, he didn't know what to think. That fulfills all his fantasies.

You were beautiful. You are beautiful. The curvaceous body, the full breasts, the long hair cascading down to the middle of your back, little or no makeup other than a pink gloss on your lips and the typical smile of someone who promises and wants to be extremely provocative, but in reality it’s a shy little thing.

He didn't know how he was looking at you, much less how the other Stephens were reacting to that vision of paradise in front of them, but you stopped at the bottom of the stairs and your cheeks turned red.

"So?" Your voice sounded low.

Supreme took the initiative and approached you and touched your face affectionately and kissed your lips. Defender felt a pang of jealousy when you and Supreme were close, but he was used to not showing it and on the other hand - however contradictory it was - he couldn't deny that he liked seeing you with the other Stephens, that always turned him on.

"You look beautiful, honey."

Your cheeks turned a darker shade of red that Defender found charming.

"I confess the idea seemed sexier when I sent the message. Now I'm too self-conscious."

"You look beautiful" Defender and Stephen responded together and then laughed softly at the situation.

"Come here, give me a kiss, sweetheart. I loved the reception you prepared for us. You know I always love everything you do for us."

You took the hand he offered you and walked closer. Stephen grabbed the back of your head and pulled you to his lips and Defender felt his cock throb inside his pants. He wanted you so much. Ever since he saw that message, all he could think about was the moment he would have you on his lap riding him.

"I made dinner. Well, it's almost ready. There are still a few things to finish."

"I guess we can think about food later, don't you think?" Supreme suggested. "You have other needs that I want you to satisfy first." He smirked "That text... did things to me, honey."

Defender smirked. Supreme was so cheesy sometimes.

He finally approached you and touched your face.

"So bold sending us that photo when I know at home you're super shy, baby."

You blushed even more.

"Did you like it?"

"I loved the surprise. I loved that you prepared something special for our Valentine's Day. I love you so much, Y/n. There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not grateful for having you in my life."

You wrapped your arms around his neck. "Defender Strange... how can I not love you when you say those things?"

He chuckled watching you hold his hand and take Stephen's hand and adjust it to hold them in one hand, while taking Supreme's hand with the other "Come on, let's go up stairs."

...

The master bedroom, Stephen's room, was the largest room in the Sanctum. Supreme had a hard time accepting Stephen staying with it, but he was aware that it made sense. For better or worse, Stephen was the Doctor Strange of that universe. That room was the setting for almost every night you had sex together for obvious reasons, it was the biggest room, it had the biggest bed and it felt the most right somehow and Supreme felt the familiar twist in his stomach caused by anxiety when you led the three of them directly to that room.

It was something difficult to explain and he never talked about it with the other Stephens - although he was sure the others felt the same way - but the reality was that he loved sharing you. He loved watching the other Stephens fuck you even though it also filled him with jealousy. Jealousy was hot.

Supreme still remembered the first time, it was your birthday and you had sex together for the first time. It was unforgettable, but everyone was so nervous and insecure that it was not possible to fully appreciate the moment. Now it was different. Foursomes became a common thing in your lives and every time it was incredible. Supreme always had the best orgasms when you let him cum in your mouth while he watched Defender and Stephen fucking you. It was so fucking hot. He was sure he could get stressed and jealous sometimes, but he could never be bored with the life you led. He often felt like he was living inside a porn movie. In the best way.

"Tell me, honey, what do you want to do with us tonight?" He teased when he realized how unsure you were about your next steps.

You bit your lip and then glanced to the two levitation cloaks still tied to his and Stephen's shoulders.

"Could you leave us alone for a moment?" You asked, gently stroking his blue cloak.

The two sentient relics flew out the door and slammed the door on the way out. His cloaky looking particularly offended at being left out.

"I'm pretty sure he wanted to stay and watch." Supreme joked, drawing a soft laugh from your lips.

"He's a brat. So different from Cloaky."

"The relic acquires the owner's behavior." Stephen teased.

"It's explained then" You said, approaching Supreme and kissing him with the passion he would never get used to. Sometimes it was impossible to understand how you could love him so much when he knew how complicated he was. But you loved him and that was always very clear in the way you touched him and especially kissed him.

You broke the kiss and smiled at him, "I love you. I know I say it every day, but today it's even more important to say it."

Supreme opened his mouth to respond, but you were ripped away from him by Stephen's arms, who pulled you to his chest in a clear display of jealousy. You giggled. You loved that. Supreme knew very well. You hated it when they fought - and they fought all the time - but you loved it all the same. You loved the triple attention you received, the kisses, the caresses and vows of love you received every day.

"Now you're going to have to say that to me too, sweetheart. You know I'm a jealous man." Stephen teased and you let out small giggles.

You held his face in your hands and spoke softly. "And I thought Supreme was the most jealous of the Stephens."

"Don't underestimate me, love."

You smiled openly, "I love you, Steph. You know how much."

He smiled proudly, "Then show me, kiss me and call me what you call me when we're alone."

Supreme felt the familiar tightening in his chest that jealousy caused in him and you gave Stephen a reprimanding glare.

"Come on, sweetheart. They know."

Supreme rolled his eyes when you smiled in surrender and kissed Stephen hard.

"I love you Steph. My Stephen."

He smiled smugly, but it was cut off by your direct order. "Now get in that shower, because I love you, but you're all sweaty."

He chuckled nodding in agreement "Yes ma'am."

Supreme even tried to stop himself from laughing, but he couldn't. However, you approached him right away.

"You too, Stephen. You three are sweaty."

He smirked "Want me to get in the shower with him?"

Defender chuckled, but said nothing.

"The idea is temptingly sexy, but I think you'd better use your shower."

He agreed, but couldn't help but point out "I thought we would get straight to the best part, that you were missing us so much and couldn't wait to have us in your arms."

"I am and that was the idea, but reality often prevails over fantasy and the three of you are smelling the heat of Kathmandu."

Ouch. "Okay, I'm coming." He said surrendering. Stephen was already in the shower, the sound of the water indicating that Supreme was behind in the race to get back into your arms first.

...

You were super self-conscious about being the only naked person there and wearing those heels on top of that. The sexy image of the situation that popped into your head when you sent the text to them was long gone, but all it took was a smile from Defender to make you feel better.

"I'm still surprised by how naturally you can deal with the three of us, you know? It's almost as if you were made for us." He said pulling you into his arms.

"Almost?" You asked with a raised eyebrow, to which he smiled in surrender.

"Definitely made for us." He corrected and kissed you tenderly.

"Practice makes perfect."

"In our case, I would say that time has helped a lot. Do you remember last year?" He teased to which you grimaced.

"Don't even remind me."

He laughed softly "I'm going to take a shower too. Wait for me. Promise?"

You smiled throwing yourself onto the bed "I'll be right here. Don't be long."

You lay down on the bed, pulling Stephen's pillow close to your nose so you could bask in his scent and a victorious smile played on your lips as you realized for the thousandth time that you were about to go to bed with three Stephens. Sex was important. God, the sex was incredible, but what really enchanted you about it was the realization of being loved by Stephen. Some people are never loved, you were loved and not just once but three times and by the same man. That meant something.

Defender always talked to you about how he believed that the love you felt for each other went beyond the barriers of universes and you couldn't say how, but you were sure he was right. You loved Stephen the moment you first saw him and it was like that with Defender and Supreme and god help you, you would never say that to them, but if ten more Stephens appeared in your universe, you would have no choice but to love them too.

You were so absorbed in your own thoughts that you even noticed that Stephen had gotten out of the shower, only realizing it when his baritone voice pulled you out of your reverie.

"A penny for your thoughts." He teased and you smiled, rolling over on the bed so you could see him. He was wet from the shower, the towel tied around his waist but hanging dangerously below his v line, his hair wet and carelessly pulled back.

"God, you're a beautiful bastard."

He raised his eyebrow and a cocky smile played on his lips.

"So that's what you were thinking about? How beautiful I am?"

You rolled your eyes dramatically. "Don't be cocky. Come on, put your tongue to do something more productive than bragging."

He threw himself on the bed, crawling over you and tickling the sides of your ribs, which made you giggle.

"No, please Steph, I can't..."

"Not so bossy now, are you?" " He teased "Then tell me how you want me to use my tongue then."

You held his face in your hands. “Like this.”

You kissed him hard and he hummed adorably on your lips, but soon after he took control of the kiss and started to grind an obvious erection on your thigh.

"Look what you do to me. You haven't even touched me yet and I'm already like this. To be honest, you've made me hard since you sent me that photo. You have no idea how much I wanted to abandon what I was doing and come home to fuck you."

You smiled smugly and kissed his lips again "It worked then."

"You have no idea" He said on your lips "But I would rather have this night just for the two of us."

You pouted "Behave. You know how important it is for me to have these moments for the four of us, especially on special dates like today."

He smirked "I know you're dirty and insatiable, that's why you need three of me to handle you."

You felt your face flush, but there was no reason to deny it. "It's true, but it's only because I love you so much. That's what I was thinking actually, how I love you so much to the point of loving three versions of you."

He kissed you and went back to grinding himself on your thigh. He was trying to hold back, but you knew he was dying to have you and knowing that made you feel so powerful.

"Sometimes I think I don't deserve so much love..."

"Shhh, of course you do. You deserve that and more. And you can accuse me as much as you want of being insatiable for wanting three of you, but we both know that you like sharing me in bed."

Now it was his turn to blush and that made a petulant smile appear on your lips.

"Do not tease me." He warned, but you weren't about to go back on your words.

"Why not? What are you going to do? Fuck me senseless? Hard and rough? Thank god, that’s what I want."

He held your chin tight. "That's what you're going to get if you don't behave."

"Then I won't behave." You threatened and Stephen pulled you into his lips, but the two of you were interrupted by the creak of the door opening and Supreme's voice.

"And why won't you behave, honey?" He asked and you just smiled watching him approach. He was only dressed in sweatpants and his face was slightly flushed showing that he had shaved before coming back to you. He threw himself on the bed and opened his arms waiting for you to throw yourself into them and Stephen rolled to the other side of the bed letting you have your moment together.

You hugged him and he wrapped you in his arms kissing you hard and then looked at Stephen waiting for an answer.

"She's being a brat and I warned her there will be consequences." Stephen informed Supreme and you laughed, turning to face him, but letting yourself be enveloped and pulled closer by Supreme's arms.

"Maybe I want to be punished." You confessed and Supreme groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"What did we do to deserve a girl like you, honey?"

You let out a small laugh "I hope you mean that positively."

He giggled "Always."

Stephen laughed softly and Supreme pulled you into his lips again. You let yourself be guided, your hands touched his face and a satisfied hum escaped your lips.

"You shaved. I prefer it like this." You said with a smirk to which he chuckled.

"You live with a Stephen who has a goatee and another who has a full beard but can't handle a little stubble?

You shook your head, stroking his face. "It's not the same. I like having a clean shaved Stephen." You rum your index finger on his chin "It's smooth"

Stephen giggled and you rolled closer to him pulling him to your lips “I like the differences.”

"Yeah, we know" They both laughed softly and you took turns holding their lips and hands and that felt like heaven to you. There was no other word to explain it.

Defender arrived a minute later, his hair loose as it rarely was and wearing a pair of pajama pants that made his v line and a prominent erection very visible. You wondered if he had been hard the whole time or if seeing you in bed with Stephen and Supreme had immediately left him in that state. You knew well that Defender liked to observe. All three liked it.

"We've been waiting for you, baby. Come here." You reached out to him and sat on the bed between the Stephens to welcome him with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he let himself be pulled on top of you, your legs opening for him to settle between them to which he moaned softly.

"She's so greedy" Stephen told Supreme "...and so fucking perfect. Fuck, sweetheart. I need you."

You smiled smugly on Defender's lips and gently pushed him to let you stand up.

"So tell me what you guys want. I confess I spent the day thinking about sucking your cocks."

"So fucking dirty." Defend hissed.

"She was never a saint, but I admit she got a lot worse with your arrival." Stephen replied with that beautiful smile on his lips.

You loved that. You loved it when they talked about you like that between them, you loved seeing them understanding each other and talking to each other as if they were a single person - which in fact they were - it was a strong turn on for you.

Supreme smiled seeming to read your mind. "I think she might start with that, don't you? I can only speak for myself, but I've been dying for a blowjob ever since I saw that text."

Stephen nodded "Yeah, me too. But I'm going to want more than a simple blowjob and she knows that."

Defender chuckled and you pouted feigning innocence.

"Are you going to let these two mean Stephens abuse me, baby?"

He cupped your face in his hands and hummed condescendingly, "More than that, baby. I'll love watching."

You could have cum with just those words. You were so wet between your legs that your thighs were sticking together and you could smell your arousal. All that teasing, the game you played was exactly what worked for you, it was what made you love having the three of them at the same time and it worked perfectly when they behaved themselves and tonight they were more than determined to behave, apparently.

"I think I saw a blush on these cheeks." Stephen teased and you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Shut up and get comfortable you three."

They laughed and got comfortable on the bed, sitting next to each other and that sight never failed to impress you. It was so pornographically glorious. You smiled to yourself and tied your hair in a bun with the same determination as a warrior preparing for a fight. You were definitely a woman on a mission.

"Come here, sweetheart, I want to be first." Stephen asked, extending his hand to you. You crawled over to him and kissed him sweetly and your hands freed him from the towel. He raised his hips enough for you to pull and throw it on the floor. He was so hard already. The tip was red and slightly sticky with precum. You couldn't resist, so you held him tight and kissed his head feeling your eyes close and a moan of satisfaction escape your lips as the other Stephens giggled.

"Don't get cock drunk yet, honey, there are two more cocks to suck." Supreme teased.

Stephen held your face, taking his cock in his hand and impatiently directing it into your mouth. "Take it, sweetheart. Give me a hard suck."

You opened your mouth big for him and did as he asked, emptying your cheeks to suck hard, which made him moan outrageously loud. "Oh yeah, sweetheart. Show me what you can do."

But he didn't give up control, on the contrary, he held the back of your head and pushed you against his dick making you swallow it whole and gag in the process.

"Look at that!" Supreme exclaimed and you couldn't see him now with your eyes closed, but you'd bet all your chips that he had his cock in his hands, jacking off as he watched. He was dirty like that, and you loved that about him.

You could barely breathe with your mouth stuffed with Stephen's cock like that, tears welled up in your eyes and ran down your face.

"She takes it so perfectly." Defender pointed out. "She was made for us, wasn’t she?"

Stephen moaned in satisfaction, taking his cock out of your throat to let you breathe.

"I could cum in your throat right now. That's how good this mouth in my cock feels, sweet girl."

You coughed and ran your hands over your face to wipe away the tears and smiled. "I love when you call me like that."

Stephen smirked, "Yeah? You love everything I do to you, sweetheart. Now come here and give me a kiss before I let you go with them."

You let yourself be pulled to his lips and kissed him hard, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"I love you." You said between his lips.

"I love you too. Go now and make me proud."

"Always" You assured, letting yourself be enveloped by Defender's arms. He kissed you hard. Harder than usual and his fingers tangled in your hair and your knees went weak.

"Seeing you with them drives me crazy, baby. I can't deny that I like this more than I should." He confessed in your ear, but loud enough for the others to hear.

"They like it too" You teased throwing a mischievous glance at the other two. "Let's give them something to watch."

Defender smirked letting you free him from his pants. He wasn't wearing any underwear and you doubted there was anything sexier than a handsome man wearing pants without underwear. You threw his pants on the floor and planted a kiss on his lips before spitting into your hand and holding him, moving up and down slowly, keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

One of the things that became increasingly clear to you as time went by was that they were different in almost every way even though they were the same person. With Defender what worked was calmness, glances, affection. He might fuck you harder eventually, but almost every time you made love it was slow, calm and delicious. And that was how he liked to be touched.

He bit his lip to hold back a moan when you bent down and gave a long lick from the base to the tip, stopping to flick your tongue on the head.

You smiled proudly. "Don't hold back, baby. Let me hear you. I like hearing how happy I'm making you." You asked, taking him in your mouth and sucking slowly, using your tongue all the time the way he liked.

He moaned louder, but still restrained. One of his hands grabbed your hair, but he didn't push. Defender never pushed. "So, so happy, baby. Shit... this lips feels so good wrapped around my cock like that."

You felt his cock throbbing in your mouth and you took it out of your mouth smiling your best smile at him. "Yeah? Your cock feels amazing pulsing in my mouth too. But I don't want you to cum yet, baby."

He shook his head "It doesn't matter, you know I have as many rounds as you want to give you."

"Shit, that sounded presumptuous even to us, but coming from him it sounds even weirder." Supreme teased, but Defender completely ignored him pulling you into his lips.

"Tell me you love me." He asked softly on your lips and you buried your face in his neck, surrendering to his charm.

"More than anything, baby. Love you so much."

Defender held your chin and kissed you softly. "Better not let Supreme hear that." He said with a provocative smile on his lips that wasn't really like him, but that made him even more handsome.

Impatient, Supreme took your hand pulling you from Defender's lap gently but insistently. "Come here, honey. I've waited too long."

You couldn't help but giggle at the serious way he said it. As if you were somehow making him suffer by waiting his turn.

You let yourself be manhandled and he positioned you straddling his lap. "Always you, isn't it, Supreme Strange?"

He smirked positioning his shaking hands to the sides of your neck and pulling you into a hungry kiss.

"You complain, but you love the way I am, honey."

You could have rolled your eyes, but you didn't want to provoke him so you didn't. "If what you want is for me to suck your cock, you should try to be less cocky."

He gave you that beautiful sideways smile of his, "But I know you want to blow me as much as I want it."

"Seriously, just for tonight, can't you be less of yourself, Supreme?" Stephen complained and although you weren't looking at him, you could almost hear his eyes rolling.

"You better get to work, honey."

You let out a small giggle and dismounted his lap, helping him get rid of the pants he was wearing and immediately took him in your hands. He was so deliciously hard for you, the tip wet with precum from being stimulated by his own hands. You licked the tip to savor the salty taste and this time you couldn't stop your eyes from rolling back, but for an entirely different reason.

"Oh fuck, honey. Put it all in your mouth, please. Suck it hard, make me cum. I don't care. You know I'm going to stay hard for you anyway."

You did exactly what he asked, adding one hand to his balls, stimulating him as much as possible, rotating the other hand at the base while sucking and licking. Taking your time and enjoying it as much as him.

"So delicious... fuck, honey, keep going just like that. Gonna fill your mouth with milk. I spent all day thinking about doing that."

You hummed contentedly and went even deeper, taking him all the way to the back of your throat and hearing the sounds of approval from the other Stephens at the same time as you felt the mattress dipping and Stephen moving in your peripherals.

"Get your pretty ass up for me, sweetheart." Stephen asked, slapping your ass cheek and you obeyed, moaning loudly when you felt his tongue lapping your folds, the friction of his goatee making you see stars. You immediately started moving your hips against his mouth and he grabbed your thighs, correctly taking the action as encouragement.

Supreme grabbed your hair with one of his hands and pushed you against his cock making you swallow him completely.

"F-Fuck... take it, honey. Take all of it. Oh shit." He moaned loudly spilling down your throat and making your eyes water. He took his cock out of your mouth allowing you to vocalize the pleasure that Stephen's fierce tongue was providing you now that he was sucking your ass.

This was new for you and you didn't understand how it could be so pleasurable, but Stephen had the gift of addicting you to new and different things and you loved it. Sex with them could never get boring.

Supreme patted your cheek and ran his hand through the hair that insisted on falling across his forehead. "That mouth of yours is otherworldly, honey. I just put my dick inside it and I cum."

You smiled, but before you could respond a moan broke through your lips when Stephen added his fingers to the sum of the stimulation, penetrating you with them.

"That's it. Moan loudly for us. Let us hear how good it feels." Supreme teased, holding your chin with one hand and making you suck his index finger.

“Delicious,” Stephen rasped. "I could spend the whole night like this."

But contrary to what he said, he pulled away enough to direct his cock at your entrance and forced it slowly. "So fucking tight. No matter how many times I fuck this pussy, it's always so tight."

You moaned loudly feeling yourself being impaled by his cock and Supreme smirked at something Defender said and walked away letting him get closer to you.

"I want your mouth a little more, baby. Please." He asked, kneeling on the bed in front of you. You placed your hands on his thighs and took him in your mouth again, sucking voraciously. It was hard to be gentle when Stephen was fucking you so hard.

Defender took your hair in his hands and let himself be carried away by the moment. "Fuck baby, so good. You suck my cock so good."

You kept your eyes open to watch him, he had his eyes fixed on Stephen fucking you and you knew that was exactly what was making his dick throb so hard in your mouth. The obscenity of it all.

"Oh God, baby. I love watching you get fucked like this. So fucking hot."

Stephen slapped your ass in agreement. "Come on, sweetheart, suck his cock and make him cum in your mouth. I want to see it." He ordered, increasing the strength of his thrusts, which became increasingly irregular.

Defender moaned loudly and you felt his thighs shaking. "Oh baby... gonna cum... oh yeah baby, can I cum in your mouth?"

You hummed positively and a part of your brain thought it was cute that he had even bothered to ask.

"F-Fuck... oh come on baby... take it..." His voice sounded broken as hot cum filled your mouth. A lot of it.

"So fucking good..." He mumbled between moans, caressing your face and taking his cock out of your mouth. "Let me see it."

You obeyed, opening your mouth so he could see his cum inside and then swallowing and sticking your tongue out at him dramatically so he could see.

"Beautiful. So fucking beautiful." He murmured, bending down to kiss you and Stephen moaned loudly, giving two harder thrusts and then spilling himself inside you.

"Oh fuck, sweetheart... You're too good to be true." He confessed breathlessly and then pulled out. His cum dripping down your abused pussy.

Your legs shook and you fell face down on the mattress, but Supreme pulled you into his arms.

"Look what you do to us. It's impossible to last when you're so irresistible."

You smiled, pulling him to your lips. "Is this a complaint?"

You heard Defender and Stephen giggling and the sound filled your heart with such great love with the realization that you were having this moment together and they weren't fighting each other, on the contrary, you could swear that at that point they were practically united against you and you didn't know if you could take it.

"And what man would be crazy to complain about having a woman like you, honey?"

You pulled him back to your lips while squeezing your thighs together. They could have had theirs, but you needed to have yours and if possible, you wanted to have it more than once.

Supreme got the message quickly and got between your legs, spreading them with his arms and holding them open while he eat you. He didn't care that Stephen had cum in you seconds before and the notion of that only made the oral even more pleasurable. Your back arched and your eyes closed immediately and a pornographic moan escaped your lips. You could cum right then if he continued, but Supreme had other plans. He licked your ass, leaving enough saliva there and directed his dick at your entrance, penetrating it slowly.

You still remembered the first time you had anal, it was with Supreme and you were so uncertain about the whole thing, but now you loved it, you loved the strange sensation and the peculiar pleasure that took over once he was inside you. . You liked it so much that you wondered if there was something wrong with you since women aren't supposed to enjoy it that much.

Supreme moaned loudly, laying on top of you slowly and giving your body time to get used to the sensation, then he grabbed your thigh and pulled it so that you intertwined your legs around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper.

"Oh Stephen... feels so good." You confessed, wrapping your arms around him. "Move, please."

He did as you asked, moving slowly at first, but gradually increasing the intensity of his thrusts until he reached a frantic rate.

"Y-Yes, oh yes, Steph, just like that, fuck me just like that..."

He took your lips in a desperate kiss, fucking you at the same rhythm incessantly, the bed creaked, the headboard hit the wall and your moans were so loud. Next thing you know, you had one of your hands between you rubbing your clit to get as much stimulation as possible and your legs were shaking and you felt like you were about to cum. No one could be more sexually fulfilled than you at that moment, but that was exactly the problem, you didn't want to finish, not yet.

"Wait... Stephen... wait. Gonna cum... don't make me cum yet."

He stopped and pulled out with a cocky smile plastered on his lips. "That good, uh? Want me to stop for a bit and let the others have fun with you now?"

You nodded biting your bottom lip. Something about the way he said it sounded so dirty.

He rolled to the side running his hand through his hair "You can barely handle one, how can you handle the three of us?" He teased and you found the strength within you to tease back "I can take it. I always do."

He chuckled in satisfaction at your response and you opened your arms allowing Defender to snuggle into them.

"Baby, I need you. Tell me you're ready for me again."

He let himself be hugged and kissed you hard. His lips moved up to your ear and he confided. "I haven’t even softened, baby."

You pulled him to your lips again, but pushed him away so you could get on top of him. He hummed contently letting you take control and direct him inside you. It was to be imagined, given the rivalry that existed between them, that Defender would not like to be in a submissive position when the other Stephens were around. In fact, it was like that at first, but now he didn't care and you were sure the others loved watching. Before Defender you weren't used to being in that position, but with him you got a taste for it and there was nothing in the world that made you feel more powerful than riding him.

His shaking hands grabbed your waist and he moaned loudly feeling you sink down onto his dick. You grabbed his face with both hands and pulled him to your lips, kissing him desperately as you began to move up and down and gyrating your hips sensually as you did so. You lolled your head back, letting yourself be carried away by the pleasure you felt and Defender took the opportunity to bury his face between your breasts. The other Stephens watched attentively and Stephen, unable not to intervene, grabbed your chin and kissed you.

You kept your pace fast and steady, your body responding to the sensations in all the right ways.

"Oh god, baby, cock feels so good inside me, make me wanna cum so hard." You confessed between moans and Defender pulled you back to his lips.

"Cum for me then, baby. Don't hold back. We've all had one, it's your turn now. You can use me to have it. Fuck me any way you want."

How sweet. He was always so sweet and wonderful all the time that it didn't surprise you that the others were a little more jealous when compared to him and to be honest, you loved it.

"Oh shit, baby. Gonna cum." You moaned loudly, riding him faster and harder, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your stomach.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and your pussy contracted tightly around him.

"Fuck baby... squeezing me so hard... gonna make me cum too."

You were so lost in your pleasure that you could barely form a complete sentence "Please... with me."

Defender moaned loudly, wrapping his arm around your waist and helping you move on top of him and your hands got lost in his hair, pulling him to your lips in one last act of passion and ecstasy until you both came together amidst moans and loudly breathing.

You both came down from your high slowly and there was a proud smile on Defender's lips. He kissed you gently and helped you dismount him.

"Come here, sweetheart." Stephen asked, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. "Let's play a little, what do you think? Me, you and Supreme. You always feel so tight with two dicks inside you."

You bit your bottom lip feeling your cheeks flush, but you let yourself be manhandled. He positioned you on top of his dick and entered you slowly. The squelching sound it made from you being filled with cum was so obscene and so good. You moaned loudly. It didn't matter that you had just cum, you wanted more.

Stephen kissed you and moaned into the kiss. Supreme came from behind, positioning himself in the best way to make the three of you comfortable. The tip of his cock poked your ass and you closed your eyes feeling him slowly penetrate you. It was always a strange sensation, you felt too full and uncomfortable before the pleasure appeared, but it appeared and was always very strong.

"Oh yeah, honey, such a tight ass... squeezing my dick so hard."

You moved slow. Stephen held your waist and helped you slowly move up and down and Supreme carefully moved back and forth. The thing with double penetration is that it's not like it is in the movies, for all parties involved to feel pleasure you need to do it slowly, but once you learn how to do it, it's addictive.

"Oh Stephen... feels so good."

You let yourself be pulled into Supreme's lips and then back into Stephen's as they both thrust into you at a lazy, infectious pace. You loved being fought over like that, there was something devilishly sexy about taking turns between two men's lips. "So fucking good... fucking me... good."

The two laughed softly, observing that you could barely formulate a sentence at that point.

Supreme placed one hand on the headboard and the other on your shoulder and increased the strength of his thrusts and you and Stephen moaned together with the increased stimulation.

"Shit, gonna cum in your ass, honey. Its too good... too tight... I can't..."

He moaned loudly and the grip of his hand on your shoulder also tightened and you felt him cuming inside you.

"F-fuck yes..." He gasped "Oh shit." He grabbed your chin and pulled you into a hard kiss and then pulled out and threw himself on the bed.

Stephen took the opportunity to hold you around your waist and place you underneath him with your face on the mattress and your ass in the air. He quickly penetrated you again and you moaned loudly feeling the delicious sensation of being fucked from behind. But he wasn't gentle, he was too far beyond that, too lost in his own pleasure.

Thrust after thrust he fucked you, pushing your face against the mattress and moaning loudly, completely surrendered, looking for his release.

"You love this, don't you?" He teased "Tell me how much you love taking it from behind."

You moaned loudly feeling like you were close to cumming again. That was something that before the Stephens you thought was impossible, but anal orgasms were possible and were usually the most intense ones you had.

"Steph... gonna make me cum... again." You confessed, completely surrendering to him.

"Yeah? Are you going to cum with my dick in your ass? So fucking dirty. You love being a dirty girl for us, don't you? That's why you sent that text to the three of us, because you wanted to be fucked like that... like a fucking whore."

“Y-yes” You stammered feeling his teasing push you over the edge.

"Then be a good girl and cum with daddy's cock in your ass. Show the other Stephens how much you enjoy it. Come on, sweetheart, I'm right behind you. I'm going to fill this sweet ass with cum."

You moaned loudly, letting yourself be pushed towards the oblivion of everything earthly and launching yourself into ecstasy. Your legs shook beneath him, your entire body shook with the force of your orgasm.

Stephen gave three more thrusts and stopped completely, moaning and letting himself spill inside you. When he was done he brushed your hair away from your face and kissed the top of your head gently and then pulled out and rolled it to the side.

It took you a few seconds to catch your breath and finally turn around and face the ceiling with a silly smile on your lips.

"This was amazing." You praised before giving in to the giggles. "I doubt there is a woman in this world who is more sexually fulfilled than I am tonight."

The three giggled and you felt yourself being pulled into Stephen's arms. He kissed the top of your head before pulling you to his lips. "I can say the same, sweetheart. No man could be happier than we are to have you."

You wrapped your arms around him and felt the tiredness domination you.

“Tired?” Stephen teased.

You smiled lazily “ I think I need a shower, I'm dripping cum."

The three of them burst into laughter and Defender took the lead, extending his hand to you and helping you stand up.

...

"The pasta is ready, baby, we can add it to the sauce now." Defender reported being extremely helpful. He had offered to help you finish dinner while the other Stephens were in the shower and you couldn't refuse to have that sweet domestic moment with him.

"The sauce is already boiling. Can you add the pasta for me while I stir?"

He did as you asked and came back with the parmesan cheese he had magically grated for you to use.

Without holding back, he stole a strand of pasta to try. "It's divine, love. I love the food you make, the seasoning you add... divine." He praised searching for your lips. You kissed him softly and then pulled away, handing him the platter with the roast and vegetables. "Can you take this to the table for me, baby?"

He nodded, taking the dish and walking away and you couldn't help but laugh when you realized how you both were dressed. So different from what you had planned and yet so perfect. He was shirtless, barefoot, with his hair in a bun and was only wearing pajama pants.

"What is it?" He asked confused.

"Nothing" You said "I just realized that we're going to have our romantic dinner dressed like we're having a sleepover."

He smirked "I like seeing you in my old t-shirts."

You smiled hearing the familiar chatting of the other Stephens approaching. "And I love wearing them. Now take these and come back to get the pasta."

He smiled “Yes, love.”

Reblog please! Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! I will love to read all of your comments and opinions. It inspires me to keep writing!

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corpsekiller · 2 months ago

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hi! could i request gintoki x reader where he is being protective of his s/o? it could be any kind of scenario!

𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐤𝐢

PAIRING. gintoki sakata x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes

SYNOPSIS. while you're out drinking at a bar with gintoki, a stranger hits on you and gintoki shows a side of him you've rarely seen before.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. my dear anon, i'm so sorry that it took me so long to write this. your request was wonderful and i hope you find this fic in the near future, even if you had to wait so long <3

LENGTH. 2.069 words

MASTERLIST

If anyone asked how you ended up here, you couldn't even explain.

The bar is dimly lit, warm light reflects off bottles of sake lined up behind the wooden counter stained with dust and dirt. The steady murmur of hushed conversations fills the air, the familiar scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke curls around your head as you slump back in your seat and let your eyes wander over the customers lounging at the tables, chatting quietly or laughing hysterically, downing one drink after the other.

Admittedly, it's not the nicest pub you've ever seen, not exactly a place you'd choose on your own considering the number of sleazy men you've already spotted lurking in the shadows of the room, drunkenly flirting with every woman that walks past them and throwing insults after them upon rejection before they throw themselves on a new prey, attempting to get in their pants.

Though sitting next to your best friend makes this rundown bar feel almost cozy if you ignore the shady barkeeper who has been sending you dirty looks ever since you stepped through the front door.

"Y'know, it's weird," Gintoki mutters, nursing his cup filled to the brim with sake and offering you a lazy grin when he finally catches your attention again and you turn around to look at him with a questioning arch to your brow.

His yukata is slightly askew, the white fabric of his sleeve slipping off his shoulder and his hair is disheveled, more than usual, though he doesn't seem to care — judging by the flush of his cheeks and the soft curve of his lips pulled into a drowsy smile, he has already had enough to make him stumble over his own feet on the way back home. "You hang out with me all the time, but you still haven't learned to handle your liquor. Just admit that you're an amateur!"

How ironic.

"Someone has to stay sober enough to drag your sorry ass home, Gin." You roll your eyes at his comment and take a tentative sip of your drink before you shift closer, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you look at him with a mischievous grin. "I don't wanna explain to the kids why you spent the night sleeping on a lonely park bench like a homeless loser. Don't forget you have to be a good role model for them."

"Ah, those damn brats," he groans and shakes his head, lazily twirling his drink as if deep in thought, though you doubt there's much going on in his mind, at least tonight. "They're the reason why I have another set of bills piling up on my desk," he complains, though there's no bite to his words. "Maybe I should sell the damn dog if we keep running shorter on food—"

"Maybe you could get a decent job, ever thought about that?"

"Oi, don't speak to the infamous Yorozuya Gintoki like that, young lady!" He scoffs and leans forward, pointing an accusatory finger at you as if you just spat into his beloved chocolate parfait right before his very eyes. "Did you forget that we repaired your roof the other day, huh? Without us, you'd soon have some creep peek through the hole in your ceiling and watch you sleep!"

"Are you sure you're not talking about yourself peeking into my room?" You smirk, barely able to stifle a laugh when he gasps loudly and clutches his chest in offense.

The banter between you two has always been lighthearted, a steady rhythm of playful teasing and sarcasm that makes the days, no matter how dark, a little better, a little easier to survive. Beneath it all though, the jokes and the insults you both throw around as if you couldn't bear the sound of each other breathing, lies a deep understanding and a certain kind of affection neither of you really dares to name.

Just as you're about to counter another one of Gintoki's jabs, a shadow falls over your table.

"Hey there, pretty thing," a voice drawls, pulling your attention to the source of those words dripping with false friendliness — a man, seemingly already in his late 40s towering over you with a smug grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. His eyes linger on you, wandering over the length of your figure with an almost predatory glint that makes your stomach twist and turn in all the wrong ways. "Why don't ya leave this loser and have a drink with a real man, hm? I promise I'll make it worth your while."

Instinctively you lean back, trying to get as much distance as possible between you and the stranger, though it's no use. Before you can utter a response, he moves closer and places a hand on your wrist and grazes over your arm to grab your shoulder. Unease settles in the back of your throat, a heavy feeling that ties your tongue and renders you unable to bite back with a snarky reply that might scare him off.

Just as you're about to pull back, his fingers still hovering above your shoulder, the table shifts and the glasses still filled with sake clatter auspiciously.

Then, Gintoki is suddenly in front of you, his hand wrapped tightly around the man's wrist. His knuckles are turning white from the sheer strength of his tight grip, but you notice a subtle tremor running through his body, his muscles straining and tensing under the thin fabric of his shirt as he slowly twists the stranger's arm into an unnatural position that makes him inhale sharply. Gintoki isn't looking at you, though — his eyes are fixed on the drunken jerk, and for once, there is no trace of his usual lazy grin that you've grown so accustomed to.

No, there was nothing but pure anger etched into the sharp features of his face.

"Oi, didn't your mother ever teach you not to touch things that don't belong to you?" His voice is calm, almost eerily so, but there is an edge to it that makes the air thrum with a certain kind of tension. The room around you grows quiet, so deadly silent that you're certain you could hear a pin drop and yet, you can't seem to turn your head to check if the other people are watching, can't force yourself to let your gaze wander away for even a second.

"What are you doing? Let go of me, you idiot!" The unknown man blinks in surprise, the smirk he wore only a moment ago slowly fading as his drunken bravado wavers before he attempts to jerk his hand free, pulling one, two, three times, but it's no use. Gintoki only huffs out a humorless laugh and slowly leans in closer, the crimson of his eyes glinting dangerously in the dim lighting of the bar.

"You think I'm a joke, huh?" He murmurs, low and alarmingly calm. "Look, dude, I'm the kind of guy who smiles even when I'm ticked off. So if I'm not smiling right now... you've really crossed a line."

There's a moment of silence as Gintoki merely stares at the stranger until he begins to squirm nervously, seemingly contemplating what he should do with him, then he pulls the man forward by his wrists and tilts his head to whisper something into his ear, though you can't make out what he's saying.

Whatever it is, it must be utterly terrifying because only a split second later, the man's eyes widen in pure horror. The color drains from his face and his mouth falls open in wordless shock as he gapes at your best friend, frozen in place, unable to move an inch like a rabbit caught in the jaw of a wolf.

Then, at last, with a rough yank that sends the creep stumbling back into another occupied table, Gintoki lets go of him and turns towards you. In an instant, his expression softens, a comforting reassurance replacing the storm that has been raging in his gaze ever since the stranger had tried to put his hands on you. Slowly, but surely, the tension around you slowly eased despite the steady pounding of your heart and you let out a breath you didn't you'd been holding, forcing your body to relax.

"Hey," Gintoki murmurs as he nudges your shoulder, his tone lighter now, almost gentle if you listen closer. "You okay?"

You swallow, nodding, though your voice still sounds treacherously shaky when you dare to speak up. "Yeah, I’m fine. I just… Thank you."

Somehow, those words feel too small, too meaningless to express what you're truly feeling — because in this very moment, with his hand still lingering protectively on the table between you and the space where the stranger stood, you realize something about your best friend that you never thought about before.

Sure, Gintoki and you have known each other for so long you barely remember your first encounter, and sometimes you'd almost dare to say you know him better than anyone else, always having each other's back, no matter what life threw your way, but tonight, it feels different.

He isn't just standing up for you — he's shielding you as if the idea of someone hurting you is something he can't bear.

"You don’t have to thank me for something like that," he mutters, his gaze dropping to the floor. A faint blush creeps up his neck and flushes his pale cheeks, barely noticeable in the dim lighting of the bar, and his hand shoots up to scratch at the back of his neck, fingers twirling strands of silver hair in an attempt to hide what seems to be embarrassment. "I mean, I was just… doing what I always do. I can’t just sit there when some jerk thinks he can lay a hand on you."

God, you don't think you've ever seen him look so bashful.

"Gintoki," you reply softly, hesitantly reaching out to brush your fingertips over his scared knuckles before you give yourself a push and grab his entire hand, circling his skin with the pad of your thumb in reassuring motions. "Tell me, why do you always look out for me like this?"

He glances at your hand, then back up at you. Something flickers in his eyes and for a moment, a split second, you catch a glimpse of what lies behind his facade of carelessness and boredom, behind the mean jokes and snarky comments, behind the slaps on the back of your head when you've gotten yourself into trouble for nth time that week — adoration, perhaps even love, though you think that word might be too strong.

"Because," he replies softly, his gaze never leaving yours, "even an idiot like me knows a good thing when he’s got it."

Fuck. Your heart stumbles in your chest and warmth begins to pool in the pit of your stomach, crawling up your spine until you feel your face flush, tinting your cheeks in a soft shade of pink as you try to process his sudden display of unexpected affection. Just as you open your mouth to respond, he flashes you that infuriatingly lazy grin and reaches across the table to snatch his drink, lifting his glass with a careless tilt to eye its content.

"So," he announces as if nothing has changed at all, a delicate pinky finger outstretched to cram around his left nostril in search of a booger, "let’s forget about that creep and enjoy the rest of our night, yeah? You’re stuck with me for now, whether you like it or not."

Completely bamboozled by the sudden shift in his demeanor, you can only gape at him. One second he's fierce and protective, showing a side of him you only ever catch in rare, fleeting glimpses, and the next, he's back to being his usual insufferable self, cool and detached as if none of it matters.

But despite the confusion — despite everything — you can’t help the soft smile that tugs at your lips.

"Yeah," you whisper, feeling your chest swell with something almost painfully sweet. "I think I’m okay with that."

And as the night stretches on, with the bar growing quieter around you, it doesn't matter how rough or chaotic the world outside might be, because right here, in this tiny corner of Edo, you know one thing for certain - as long as Gintoki is beside you, you’ll always be safe.

#gintoki x reader #gintoki fic #gintoki sakata x reader #sakata gintoki x reader #sakata gintoki imagine #sakata gintoki fic #sakata gintoki #gintama x reader #gintama gintoki #gintama

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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year ago

Text

Rigor Mortis (part 8)

College roommate!Miguel O'Hara x reader

(AO3 Mirror) (Wattpad) Series Masterlist, Main Masterlist,

Part 7, Part 9

summary: You visit your ex. Miguel tags along.

warnings: mentions and description of depression. heavy angst, depictions of a toxic relationship. some suggestive language.

a/n: me when idk shit abt the american school system:

Thank you to my beta readers, @tianyhi and @urgonnaneedabiggership (they also write Miguel fics, I highly recommend! my favourite is this series), I couldn't have done it without you guys <3

Join my taglists here

wc: 5.8k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you had forgotten; they were good.

Blank walls. Quiet corridors. The buzz of monitors and dull chatter sandwiched between blue vinyl and exit signs. You're not usually one to wander during your breaks; but you're going crazy looking at the same four walls.

That hair net itches and the strap of a blue mask digs into skin as you make your way to a little courtyard. You sit out on a paltry bench overlooking concrete. The spindly remnants of a tree provides little cover from harsh elements. Wind whips through its branches, whistling and cool, as you rip off the mask and crumple it up in your pocket. A heavy sigh, and you feel some semblance of peace. Some quiet, before the morning comes. Before a rush of orders and shunting plastic trays up and down the wards.

You screw your eyes shut to still the pounding at your temples. God. You're grateful for the job, really. And all things considered, it's not particularly taxing: coffee orders until the little cafe closes, meal prep for the morning rush, and sometimes you'd volunteer to take orders to bed bound patients. A whole lot of reheating and chopping and pressing buttons on the little machines. You don't quite get it, of course, but your lone coworker picks up the slack well enough.

The older woman doesn't do much for company, anyways. Riveting conversation comes in the form of grunts and sharp elbows when you get in the way or round the corner of the kitchen. It has you counting down the seconds until your shift ends.

And so you are grateful, well and truly. Jamie's not so sappy, anymore; doesn't partake in 'I love you's or grand gestures; but he is dependable. Safe. Willing to stick his neck out for you, at least. He'd gotten you a job at the hospital he has his placement at; with decent pay, and it slots in well with your other ones. He's taking you seriously – taking the news better than your parents. After telling him you wanted to go back to school, you're not met with thinly veiled disbelief, or lips pressed together with pity. He'd nodded, rather simply. Didn't make a fuss. No deep sighs, or heavy frowns. Okay , he had said. How can I help?

It was the simplicity of his reaction that had bowled you over, almost bringing you to tears. To have someone believe in you, for once – wholeheartedly and without an onslaught of questions – felt like a deep breath of air after almost drowning. It felt like love ; and after desperate breaths, gasping and gulping and clawing at something to hold on to, you think you've found dry land. Something solid, something stable; a rough palm to pull you out of swirling depths. Because, unlike your family, and unlike half-hearted friends: Jamie was there.

After heading back in to catch the morning rush, you're wiping down surfaces and sorting plastic trays onto a cart. Rote, repetitive, boring; you've settled into a routine that feels familiar. A couple more months, you reckon, and you'll be able to cover the costs for a second go at undergrad. You can shed the skin that seems to follow you at every family gathering, and the job interviews in between. Dropout – and when your Mom says it, it feels like a vile curse. Jamie calls it spiteful, and you opt for the democratic alternative; she's being dramatic - rather than cruel, rather than hurtful, rather than crass. You've heard enough, from all sorts: ‘too much pressure’, and ‘didn't think she had it in her, anyways’, are common phrases whispered in the background of phone calls home.

Your chest aches with the weight of it – the kind of ache that seeps into skin, and lines a casket. Grief; mourning a person you could've been, and a person you never would be. For a while, it left you paralysed by the what ifs and the maybes; rotting in a quiet corner. Sinking into sofa cushions or caked onto the bed sheets like the mystery mould bloomed onto the plates in your room. But Jamie was there, more than anyone else.

You'll wait for him in the corridor near the back of the service elevator, like you always do after a shift. You finish when he starts, early in the morning and rubbing away sleep from his eyes for ward rounds. You'll give him a kiss, and he'll give you a soft little smile to send you on your way. It almost makes the whole thing worth it. Almost.

You give and you give and you give. Your boyfriend isn't quite the same; doesn't pour into you the way you'd like him to. But it works. It works because it has to; a thousand miles away from anything resembling home. You can't ask for more – the right words die in your throat.

~~~

You've spent the past couple of hours in the library. Procrastinating for at least half of it, but you've managed to draft out a couple of essays and more or less reorganise your life. It's something you've been dreading for the past week or so; letting yourself get swept up in the monsoon that is your roommate. Miguel – sarcastic, saccharine-sweet Miguel – and his stupidly pretty lips, his pretty hands, and the pretty way he scrunches up his face like he's smelt something rotten.

You're staring at a computer with a slew of books spread out on the adjacent desk. Your half-finished report seems to jumble together on the screen; a tangle of citations and filler words and shitty diagrams. It's not quite clicking , and it's making you want to tear out chunks of your hair in search of relief. A tale as old as time, one you can merely wallow in and fold yourself between its pages. Struggling at school; and this time it's a stats module you thought would be an easy couple of credits, that you definitely can’t afford to fail if you want to graduate early.

You’ve picked a quiet spot on the third floor; a computer bay tucked into the corner. It overlooks a little window, cramped and claustrophobic and mystery mould in the corners of its grout. You've resorted to scanning the cracks with sharp eyes, light fingers on your neck to trace the leftovers of the morning. You can see it in the slightly mirrored surface of cloudy glass; you look like shit, you feel like shit, but you can still feel him. Lips on your neck, sucking soft hickies into the skin; and you can't help but like the way it looks on you. It's the same under your jeans, blooming like mauve and purple heather on a sprawling field.

You cross your legs, wincing at the dull ache that spreads. Sore, in that way that feels good; sending flashes of a morning with Miguel. Fingers knuckle deep in your cunt and the heat of him – cut and lean-lined – on top of you; it's impossible to ignore. Condensation drips from the panes, pooling in its corner and you swipe a finger in it, lazily. Again, you're reminded of him, for the thousandth time in the past hour: shaking legs, fisting his cock, spraying fat globs of his cum onto your face and chest.

With another glimpse of your reflection, you sigh. Deep and heavy, with the weight of half a decade of frustration, sexual or otherwise. You've never felt this good or had your needs satiated so wholly, so exorbitantly. It feels odd. You don't know where to put your hands, how to place your feet on the floor. Do you shout, do you scream? How do you tell all the poor bystanders that scatter the third floor: I'm sleeping with Miguel O'Hara! A walking red flag with cheekbones that could cut glass! He wants me, and I want–

Your phone rings. The noise catches you off guard, and has you stumbling to press accept.

"Hey," Miguel's voice sounds tinny in the speakers, and so you press it to your ears.

"Y-Yeah?" You steel yourself, batting away daydreams of your legs wrapped around his middle – too horny for your own good, clearly.

"I'm outside, chula. " He stops talking. The quiet ticking of an indicator becomes the only sign of life, before he says, "In that parking bay by the–"

"I know, I know. Give me 5 minutes." You rush to pack up, clicking off the monitor and haphazardly shoving your notes into your bag. Not everything fits, and you give up trying to cram that textbook in.

A beat passes before you realise he's still on the phone. Quiet, but still there.

"…I brought food, by the way."

You only just manage to catch it, slotting the phone between your ear and shoulder. That makes you perk up.

" Seriously? " You give him a small laugh. You think you can hear him smile through the phone. "Thank fucking God, I'm starving. But you weren't rushing, or anything, right? I mean, it's so soon after your session with… Sally, or–"

You're bounding down two steps at a time, so eager to see him – to get food , actually – that you're careless going down the stairs.

"Sarah . " He breathes, and you make your way downstairs.

It stops you in your tracks, for some reason.

"Okay. Sarah ." You say it with finality, voice tight. "What did you end up doing anyways? At her place, you said?"

"Pressure differentials. Modelling viscosity. It's not very interesting." He hums, shifting in his seat. "What about you? Did you get something done?"

You take a beat too long to respond, and it comes out half-baked.

"Loads, Mig."

He snorts. " Sure. "

" Fuck you. " You say it under your breath, ducking past the entrance, and into a side road.

And there Miguel is, car heaped onto part of the sidewalk. He's leaning back, lazy arm sticking out the car window, showing off muscle and pretty tan skin. It's getting cold, but he's cracked the car door ajar; donned in a well-fitting t-shirt and slack trousers.

You're trying not to drool; and he makes it a little easier by flashing a shit-eating grin.

Childishly, you stick your tongue out; wrenching the door open and slumping into the passenger side. You tuck your things by your feet, and it lands on the floor with a thump.

"You can put your stuff in the back.. . " Miguel frowns.

" Can't. We need the space, remember?"

To pick up the rest of your things left in your ex's apartment. You hope he can parse out the rest of that from a raised eyebrow.

He sighs, tossing a brown bag of takeout onto your lap. He starts the car. "...I didn't think we were still doing that, to be honest."

He seems disappointed, eyes flitting this way and that as he reverses and pulls out. You must've hit your head at some point, because you're in heat – pressing sore legs together at the way he does it. One arm on the back of your headrest, sharp jaw jutting out as he looks back, and bottom lip hooked under his teeth; he's just concentrating, trying not to hit one of the cat-sized rodents that roam the streets this late at night, and he's still hot .

"You promised ."

"I had my face between your thighs. Would've said anything if it meant I could have more."

You draw your lips in faux disgust – your heart's not in it, but it's enough to make him chuckle.

"Fuck you."

He doesn't miss a beat, deadpanning, "...you'd like that."

Lips pursed, you ignore the way it twists your stomach into knots. Steadfast, you stare out at the window, watching the yellow lights of a bustling city pass you by.

Miguel takes a different turning, one that'll take you across the city and away from your place. To Jamie's, most likely. You soften, taking a moment to look across at him.

His eyes flit over, intense and almost a deep red in the neon and lights. It's barely a couple of seconds, but he knows, just like that.

"Are you nervous?" He tests the waters, voice steady and non-committal. It's not an accusation; even though everything feels like one, lately. Not from him, though. Never from him.

" No ." Your tone is betraying, and you both know it. He seems to pretend not to hear that tremor in your voice.

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." He says it soft and low, not quite looking at you.

"It's just… it's the first time I'm going to see him after–" Your voice crackles. "After everything."

"You'll be okay," He starts. It doesn't feel like an empty platitude when he says it: it feels genuine and full-bodied and sonorous, clanging around your head like the chime of church bells. "Probably not right away – it's going to hit you like a semi, first. And you'll feel like shit afterwards. But it won't last. You'll move on, and you'll be okay; because you have to be."

He drifts off somewhere far away when he says that last bit; and you're not too sure what he's talking about anymore. Regardless, you wrap his words around you, holding it to your chest like a little songbird in the cradle of a tree.

You'll be okay. You have to be.

It feels less solid when it's not Miguel saying it, you think. You don't tell him that, though, sinking into the seat instead.

He doesn't let that silence sit for too long. Traffic creates a natural lull, and he reaches over to tap at the book in your lap – one of many different textbooks, the rest of which is lodged in your bag.

"You're taking a stats module, I assume."

You nod.

"With Dr. Karev?"

You sit up slightly. "...yeah, actually."

He hums. "You thought it would be an easy A, then."

He's right, but it doesn't make it sting any less. You were hoping for simple math and data processing, and here you were: drowning in matrices and linear algorithms.

"I thought it would be."

"Let me help you, then. I took one of his classes and he barely changes the syllabus. I could dig up my old notes, and–"

"You want to tutor me ?" You splutter – but you don't mean to sound as shocked as you do. " Why? "

"Why not?" He shrugs.

"I… I don't have any money, or anything."

"M'not offering because I want money." He's nonchalant, inching towards the car up front.

You squint. It's not adding up. "What's the catch?"

"No catch, I swear. Is it so hard to believe I'm being nice?"

Now, you feel guilty. "Sorry, Mig. I appreciate it, I really do–"

"Sit on my face and we'll call it even."

He turns to you now, face flat but with a twinkle in his eye. The corners of his mouth are slightly upturned - amused. He thinks this is funny?

You give him a light shove as the traffic starts to break up. He's riled you up, now, and you're much too annoyed to be nervous.

"Eyes on the road, asshole."

It's more bark than bite, and you settle into the seat, finally cracking open the paper bag. You munch on fries and it makes him laugh. Miguel swears he can see it: the hint of a gentle smile on your face.

~~~

He pulls up to the apartment complex. Modest, close to the hospital; and you probably couldn't have afforded to live there without your ex. Jamie was lucky; his parents could foot the bill of moving out, and he had family that lived in the city.

It feels odd to be on the outside looking in. The building's windows become snapshots into other people's lives. For some, it meant an early night, blinds drawn and lights off. From the parking lot, you can see the dim yellow of lights streaming through other apartments. Silhouettes flit past every now and then; the only sign of life.

Jamie's apartment is on the top floor, the two windows on the far right. You crane your head out of the car window, to get a better look. The lights are on, with one window left slightly ajar.

Miguel moves to get out, with shuffling that breaks the silence. You stop him with a hand on his arm.

"No, no. I'm going up by myself."

He cocks his head to the side, ever so slightly.

"...you sure? If you need help shifting boxes, I can–"

"I'm good, Mig. I just needed the car."

It comes out snappier than you meant it to, already irritable. With that, you pop the door open with a thunk . You can't see it, but he frowns, watching you swish and sway towards the entrance.

You trace familiar steps to Jamie's apartment. The door code hasn't changed, and so you buzz yourself in. This is something you can do quickly and efficiently, you've decided. In and out, and you don't have the energy for much else. Bracing at the door, you get ready to knock, hand curled into a fist.

The door swings open before you get the chance. He's there; still in light blue scrubs and a name badge pinned to his chest. It's the first thing you see, trying not to look at his face. But it's like pulling teeth, you decide: less painful when it's quick and sharp.

" Where's my –"

" Your stuff's in the –"

In a great clash of words, you finally look up at him. Where you're expecting some form of emotion – a flash of something, even for just a moment – Jamie is steadfast. Blank; blinking back sleep, if anything. You clamp down what feels like bile rising in your throat and push past him into the front room.

"Is this how it's going to be?"

Head down, you grit a quiet, "Don't . "

It's just as you left it, to the point it's almost comical. The same pillows you'd bury yourself in after work, the patterned tea towel you'd bought on a whim. The bar stools in lieu of a proper dining table, and that great big desk he had insisted on carting to the living room for years . Bits and pieces of you, of your relationship, and he barely bats an eye. He'll use your mugs and sleep on your patterned sheets.

It makes you sick .

You head to the second room. There's a stack of boxes, hastily stashed in the corner. There's still permanent marker on them from when you first moved in. Now, it houses the things you couldn't take with you the first time – everything you left behind.

Sick, sick, sick .

You take a moment to dig through the top box, that's clearly been moved. Knick-knacks, books, clothes and all the clutter you've acquired; and it reminds you of family, it reminds you of friends.

Jamie leans by the doorway, looking on in silence.

When you pick up a box, straining to lift it, he doesn't offer to help. He watches as you flounder, dragging it towards the door.

You're huffing when he finally says something; something that's clearly been on his mind for a while, with the way he says it.

"Are you seeing someone?" He's looking out of the window, gaze fixed on the car parked outside. Miguel's car.

Your eyes widen. You don't quite trust yourself to speak.

You leave the box by the door. "Are you?“

He shrugs. "Don't have the time."

It's noncommittal and frustratingly blasé. He's not giving you much, and it's fucking with your head. This whole thing feels like a big joke – he wants to talk, and all he's doing is asking bullshit questions. Once upon a time, you would've stewed in it; sat with that question on your tongue and let it rot.

"I don't understand." You croak. It hurts to say out loud, but you say it. That's the important part. "I don't know why you're doing this… why are you still doing this?"

"I don't like how we left things." He says it slow, like he's choosing his words carefully.

You want to scream.

" So? "

" So , I need some kind of closure. We've got unfinished business."

" Unfinished business? " You roll it around on your tongue, reeling at its bitter taste. It feels clinical and lifeless, yet again.

And then… oh. It clicks. Looking at him, arms folded and leaning on a wall, he looks antsy and uncomfortable. Now, when forced to face you.

" Closure. " Another word that tastes like shit. You give a watery laugh. "You feel guilty."

He doesn't say anything but his body language says enough. He shifts his weight side to side, unable to make eye contact.

You don't bother to stick around for an answer, snatching up the box as best you can. Through the doors, and down the corridor. You stagger down the flight of stairs, gritting your teeth. It's heavy – you've packed as much as you can inside, trying to get this over quickly – and you make it to the first floor before it clatters onto the steps.

You fold ; knees drawn to your chest and hands tight in your hair. Heart racing, chest pumping: you're trying not to get swept away by heavy emotions. The tide rises. You pump your legs around the swirling mass - barely staying afloat in deep, deep water.

You'll be okay.

You remember Miguel's words, gentle and sweet and kind. You remember the way he said it; firmly, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. The kind of grace that you don't have to work for and doesn't need a performance. He believes in you, at least; thinks you're stronger than you have any right to be. And you think of him in the car: eager to help and reassure. You brushed him off. You were mean.

Deep breath.

Miguel's waiting for you, just outside those doors. Diligent and patient, saccharine-sweet Miguel. Getting up, you make your way down the stairs with that box.

When he spots you, a pretty little thing in a hoodie and jeans, he leaps out of the car.

"Hey, hey, easy… "

"I'm good, Mig – "

You're struggling with the box, and he eases it out of your hands without breaking a sweat. One hand on the boot of the car, the other holding up the heavy box effortlessly, and he gives you a quick once over.

"...he didn't offer to help?" His face is scrunched up - disgusted by the looks of it - and all you can manage is a limp shrug.

It doesn't take him long to figure it out. You're dejected; nervous, down-trodden, blue in every meaning of the word; losing a little bit of that shine you had started the day with. If he had to guess, and he knows you well enough he'd bet money on it, it was that ex of yours – stealing away that light in a burlap sack, a thief in the brilliance of bright sun.

It makes him grind his teeth, eyes flicking up at the fourth floor window.

"I could help." He offers, a hand on your shoulder. It's your favourite hoodie, he thinks, as he circles the soft fabric with his thumb.

You purse your lips, thinking it over.

"It'll be quicker, chula. "

That pushes you over the edge, and you finally nod.

It must be a sight, knocking at the door with Miguel hot on your heels. After living with him for so long, you've forgotten how intimidating he can be when you first meet him; taller than Jamie, and mean-mugging the blonde with a deadly look. If you weren't so on edge it would make you laugh: you know your roommate is mostly harmless.

Jamie doesn't, of course. He visibly bristles, looking you both up and down.

"I just need some help with the boxes. This is my roommate, Miguel."

You turn to the man beside you.

" Miguel ," You say it softer. "This is Jamie."

Wordlessly, he stretches out a palm,

rough and broad and tan. Hesitant, the man in front of you takes it.

"Hey, man." Jamie flashes you a strange look when he says it.

Miguel doesn't answer.

You lead him to the second room, divvying up the boxes as Jamie hovers at the doorway. It's surprisingly efficient: Miguel insists on taking the heaviest boxes, hauling them up onto his shoulders, before stacking them up at the door. You'll take the smaller stuff, and it seems everything will be done in far fewer trips than before. It's hard to say out loud, but you're grateful for his help – Miguel was right , for once.

After the first trip, he's bounding back up the stairs for more. You've both made it into a game, with neither one of you having to explain the rules. He pinches your arm whilst you sift through boxes, and you stick your tongue out in response. Elbow deep in crap, and he manages to make it feel a little better.

Jamie stews. Jamie festers. In a corner of what used to be your shared apartment, he pretends to tap at his phone, uninterested. You know him too well for that facade to stick.

Miguel takes the last of the boxes down, and you're straggling behind, picking up the last few bits and pieces. You're left alone with your ex, for a brief moment.

"You're fucking him." He says it quiet, in a whisper that sounds oh-so loud in that little room. Fucking. He spits it out, and makes the word feel cheap and dirty.

You look up from across the room. Slowly, he traverses its width, gaze pinning you down like a bug under a microscope.

He brings a hand to your chin, cupping the flesh tenderly. It's intimate and familiar, reminding you of better days. Something bubbles up in your stomach, sweet and innocent. That feeling doesn't last long.

"You're fucking him."

It's accusatory, spat out with a rueful smile pulling at his lips. His fingers brush over your throat and you squirm, pulling up the mouth of your hoodie.

Those hickies, blossoming like flowers in the spring. They crackle across your skin like fallen leaves in autumn.

"It's none of your fucking business."

"Of course you are. I can't believe you." He rolls his eyes, half-laughing. "I was going to apologise! I was planning to say sorry for the way I handled things and you had to rub it in my face."

" What ?" You croak.

"You brought the guy you're fucking to our apartment!" He explodes.

His lips flatten into a tight line.

" ...now it's our apartment? You kicked me out. You dumped me ."

"Don't…. fuck , don't do that. Don't make me the bad guy, here. I gave you plenty of time to find a new place."

"Two. Weeks." You grit. "You gave me two weeks, asshole. You left me alone, and told me to fend for myself whilst you fucked off to your sister's."

That fire dies down as he hesitates. "I… I would've let you stay longer. You know that, baby."

" No. No I don't know, 'cuz you don't tell me shit , anymore." You blink back hot tears. "I don't make as much money as you do, and my family can't support me like yours can."

"I would've–"

"You didn't. " You swallow roughly. "You didn't. I don't even know what I did wrong ."

"No, no." He cradles your face with his hands, swiping at stray tears. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Now, you look up at him. With glistening eyes, and a heavily furrowed brown, it barely comes out as a whisper; red-raw and strained.

"Then why don't you love me?"

He doesn't deny it. There isn't a scramble to reassure you; to pat your head and kiss away tears to show you how much he cares. Instead, he steps away guiltily.

"I care about you, of course I do. Remember when you changed your major?"

You nod.

"I was there, wasn't I? I stayed up for hours talking you through it. And when you dropped out, I came over on the weekends and brought you groceries."

"I was there. I helped you through that funk , and helped you get that job for school. Every stupid little question, every depressive episode, all those moments where no-one else would help: I did. Even though I had other things going on in my life, I showed up. For you. It was enough, for a while."

Until it wasn't. He sighs.

"I'm starting my residency next year… and you're still in school, right?”

“Yes, I am.” You say it simply, not able to say much more without breaking down.

“I'm happy for you, really - proud that you actually got that far. But we're going in different directions, and at different paces. It's easier now that we're not together.”

You bristle at his tone: still in school, actually got that far . It oozes pomp and a quiet kind of superiority. Easier now, like it was difficult before.

“I didn't make that decision because I hate you, or because I don't care about you. I know you're angry.” He places his hands on your shoulders, and doesn't break eye contact. For the first time since you got here, you think he's finally showing emotion; quiet melancholy just below the surface. Up this close, you can see it: deepening bags under his eyes, sallow skin, and fine lines. Jaime looks tired. In fact, he seems exhausted .

“I'm sorry that I made you feel that way. But that doesn't excuse the fact that you brought your fuck buddy here, when I just wanted to talk.”

It feels cruel. The way he looks at you, and the way his demeanour switches from the Jamie you knew before, to this .

"I wanted to talk." You strain. " Months ago. After you broke up with me, and disappeared off the face of the planet. Every time I called, crying and panicking, it went straight to voicemail."

You shake his hands off of you, stepping back.

"Miguel's a friend… did you ever think of that? Maybe I just needed some help moving my things, Jamie. Maybe I don't have that many friends since they stopped talking to me because of you, Jamie. Maybe, there's not some devious plot to spite you."

You pick up the rest of your stuff, a little basket of trinkets and books. The very same books that he had told you to pack up; to make some space for his textbooks.

"Get your head out of your ass. Don't call me. Don't text me. I'm done. "

You're already halfway out of the door. With that, you start to storm off; clattering into Miguel by the stairs. When your things spill out of your hands, you both drop to your knees in a scramble to pick them up. You're chewing the inside of your cheek so hard it draws blood, fumbling around. Miguel is more efficient, scooping up your belongings back into its box.

You're drooping, only able to mutter a quiet thanks. On the way to his car, you're dejected. Miguel watches carefully, trailing behind.

~~~

He doesn't know what to say.

You've left him speechless before. Many times, in the span of your couple months together. Miguel recalls it in exasperated messages to Lyla; you're something else entirely. Frustrating, sometimes. Quick-witted. Perceptive. Thoughtful. A million and one words to describe you, and yet, it still doesn't paint the full picture. You are multi-faceted and brilliant in a way he's not sure he completely understands.

[Sent: 22:33]

Can't explain it, Ly.

[Sent: 22:33]

I'm going fucking crazy.

[Received: 22:34]

ur being dramatic :p

[Received: 22:34]

think u just need to get laid

[Sent: 22:34]

Fuck off.

[Sent: 22:35]

I said I'm taking a break. Meant it.

[Received: 22:37]

(image attached)

[Received: 22:37]

got this at the party

[Received: 22:37]

ur staring, mig

[Sent: 22:38]

…

[Received: 22:38]

that's my dress! told u I have great taste :))

[Received: 23:06]

miggyyy

[Received: 23:06]

stop ignoring me! its not fun anymore >:(

That was a while ago. Before anything serious happened between you both. And he's had the privilege of seeing you in many different ways; stressed, angry, beaming with joy. Bouncing off the walls after too much coffee, or crawling out of bed following a late night. He's seen your lips curve to form a delicious O as you writhe underneath him; he's seen you smile. He'd tattoo it onto his skin, if he could.

Fuck . He's overthinking it.

You've retired to your spot on the couch, and yes, he's staring. Tracing the slope of your jaw and the tilt of nose outlined by the glow of the TV. After getting back home late, he brushed off limp protests and took most of the boxes up himself. It sits in a pile by the dining table. You'll deal with it tomorrow, he supposes.

Retreating behind your ratty blanket, you stare blankly at the screen. Glassy eyes, you've curled up to watch reruns late into the night. Can't sleep, you told him, as he hovered by the doorway.

He should go to bed. It's nothing to do with him, really, and he shouldn't have overheard as much as he did. Miguel is curious but not nosy, and well-versed on the art of minding your business . So he shouldn't feel his heart splintering; creaking like the trunk of a felled tree; hacked into two by the way he sees you drowning.

He sits by your side. Not too close, of course, he's wary of all the shit you've been through today; not wanting to make you feel more uncomfortable.

He's reminded of a childhood holiday. Half a summer spent at a campsite, bounding through woodland and creeks somewhere up north. Gabi and him would disappear, forgoing the beaten paths for their own adventure. Miguel couldn't make friends the way his brother could, so he'd straggle behind; watching from afar as the other kids would climb trees or swim in quiet lakes. Reading by the banks, and he remembers a time someone had slipped under the water. Drowning, and it wasn't anything like the movies. It was quick, silent and deadly. Thrashing under choppy water, and then…

…nothing. Just quiet.

He feels that panic rising now, watching you stay so eerily still. You've slipped under the waves, and he doesn't know what to say to pull you back out.

Miguel isn't too good with words. He's not known for his warmth, or comforting presence. Sometimes, he thinks he wasn't built with that switch turned on in his head – and he certainly didn't learn the right words from his parents. And so, he gives you comfort the only way he knows how. He shows you. He takes care of you.

You come to him. Like two parts of a whole, you slot together perfectly: your head on his shoulder, at first. You end up on his chest, curled up like a housecat; matching shaky breaths to his steady ones. He brings a hand to your shoulder, drawing lazy circles in the fabric to soothe you.

With the dull chatter and gloom of the TV, you fall asleep. It takes Miguel a little longer, but he wraps his arms around you. He listens out for it: the gentle rise and fall of your chest. Steady, like a metronome, and it grounds him – drowning out the creak of gears.

Rigor Mortis Taglist: @bunnyrose01 @lavenderslemonade @tsukkie-daisuke @malxoxo @thekidscallmebosss @vvitcxen @theyoutubedork @doublevirgogirl @jnghs @taleiak @noblesavagex @cumikering @rebeccawinters @evanpetersrightbigtoe @saucypeanuttt @pix-stuff @maliarenee @truthuntolddd @honeycovered-bandaids @aiyaaayei @aeeliy @amplsblog @sikrettt @opuffmango @spear-bitch @maddielikesmoths @lemonpepsi @sweet-strawberryhoney @lacedinweb22 @bubbsby @jing5uan @ellaandorersoct @hibarbiesblog @valentxi @kittym1ka

@delulu-dia @melovetitties @yohoe-hoe @acollectionofcells1 @froggi-mushroom @thund3rthighs @bonthebunnie @natthernandez @strawberrymiguel @twwcs @mammonispunk @um-well @renn-pumkin-head @ietherealkistar @smallishbook @sonderspider @spear-bitch @cryingintheclubdhmu @mageneire @notdyl4n @slezhara @funkyfoxx0 @smol-beb @iceclaw101 @lixhizy @errorundyne-exe @707xn @beantokki@twentysomethingwereyote

#miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #rigor mortis 😼#miguel o'hara #miguel o hara x reader #kat_writes😼#spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara angst #angst #emotional hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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fluffyfantasticducky · 8 months ago

Text

Mistakes and regrets

☆ Pairing: Loki x Reader

☆ Synopsis: Loki is a prisoner that sees his way out through pretending to date you, but when he finds true love he doesn't know how to deal with the guilt of making a very similar damage to the one that had been done to him when he was used for what originally were selfish reasons.

☆ Word Count: 10.5k, I think that's my longest fic yet, and written in the shortest time lapse, not sure what that says about my mental stability rn.

☆ Notes: As I proofread I noticed this could be interpreted as generational trauma, sort of... given I made Loki sort of mirror what Odin did to him. But I wasn't trying to be deep, I just felt like shit during the week and used this to cope. The fic might be cringy as a result, I am honestly not sure.

☆ Warnings: Depression and guilt are the focus points of this storyline. Loki starts is kinda toxic his behavior here isn't meant to be romanticized or intended to be extrapolated to real life, I just wanted to explore a narrative surrounding poor decisions and the dealing of its consequences. The reader is kinda a Mary Sue of sweetness but I just wanted to hammer in Loki feeling bad and guilty. I don't know if this is a trigger but I touch the vault scene of Loki and Odin and Odin being forgiven is also handled, Idk if that's trigger warning worthy but I know most of the fandom hates him.

“You’re not making it any for me brother.” Thor spoke through the glass.

“I want my freedom, brother.” Loki sighed, sitting down on the uncomfortable bench. “Don’t think of me as ungrateful, but as much as I appreciate not being executed, I can’t exactly call this a life.”

“Director Fury insisted, I’ve tried explaining to him that New York was a complicated situation. But he wants to be sure you are not a threat to Earth– uh, Midgard.”

“You've surely adapted well to living here” Loki rolled his eyes. “Pathetic.”

“Cooperate with me, I brother” Thor begged. “I want to help you, but I need you to help me first.”

“I’m not sure what I am expected to do from here” Loki huffed annoyed.

Thor sighed and gave his little brother a sympathetic look. Loki was frustrated, and he couldn’t blame him. He would be too if he got brainwashed, had all his anger, sense of betrayal and resentment exploited to torture an innocent planet, and still be the one to pay for said crimes… Sure he wouldn’t be all jokes and laughs.

“I’ve been negotiating a way to test your stability and get your freedom” Thor smiled hoping to cheer up his brother. And he made Loki look up. “It’d be a bit uncomfortable at first. But I know you can prove yourself. You’d have to wear cuffs or a while, but you’d be free to walk around with me and the others on trips to the city.”

“Hooray…” Loki rolled his eyes.

“Please brother, I’m trying, I just need you to be patient.” Thor spoke sadly as he made his way out. “I hate this as much as you do.”

“Do you?” Loki said. “As far as I know, you’re not the one in a crystal cell.”

“Alright, almost as much as you do.” Thor joked softly and Loki did chuckle weakly.

He agreed that Thor had been furious. But it all happened so fast.

Thor had managed to land a fatal blow on Thanos’ chest and soon Steve, Natasha, and Bruce had arrived to back him up and retrieve the Infinity gauntlet. They opened a portal to bring back Tony, Doctor Strange, and the Spider Ling… And surprisingly a weird group of space travelers.

When Thor realized they could travel to anywhere in the universe they opened a portal to rescue the Asgardian ship. There were a lot of severe wounds but surprisingly Thanos had failed, he underestimated the strength of Asgard, and most people could be saved.

“Thor!” Valkyrie screamed and rushed to hug the king.

“Valkyrie! You are alright! Thank goodness!” Thor smiled in relief and hugged his friend.

“Thor you have to come quick!” Valkyrie urged him. “It’s Loki!”

Thor’s heart sank, his heart couldn’t stand burying the only family member he had left. Thor had lost his parents… he had seen his whole planet die. But not his baby brother. Not Loki. Not again.

“Please… not now… Let’s treat the wounded ones first…” Thor spoke with a knot on his throat. “I want to focus on saving lives first.”

“Thor, you don’t get it! He’s alive!” Valkyrie scolded him. “But he’s in a critical state! We need to take him to a safe place to treat him.”

A tear streamed down the new king’s face, and he felt as if he had finally put down a enormous boulder he had been holding onto. He didn’t lose Loki.

“Take me to him!” Thor urged them.

Valkyrie took Thor to a damaged room in the ship that had been used as an improvised infirmary. In the corner laid a figure Thor knew too well being treated by healers.

“Brother!” Thor said. “Oh Gods… You’re alive…”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily thunder brain… ugh…!” Loki joked weakly as he groaned in pain. The healers begged him not to move as they tried stabilizing his condition. His neck had been nearly obliterated.

It was a miracle Loki hadn’t died and that the healers had managed to find him on time.

“We couldn’t abandon him” one of the healers spoke politely to her king. “After all, it was because of you and prince Loki that Lady Valkyrie managed to evacuate the survivors. We apologize for not finding you, my king.”

“It’s no problem at all” Thor laughed in an uncharacteristically quiet manner. He was breathless. “Thank you for saving my brother’s life.”

The lady healer let out a sheepish giggle and bowed. Loki rolled his eyes, earning a lecture from the healers that were still treating him. King or not, Thor still had that charm that seemed to make most people swoon.

The reunion was interrupted by a group of soldiers that broke in with a logo on their uniforms that made Thor’s blood boil when they pointed their weapons at Loki. SHEILD.

They picked up the stretcher where Loki was laying in and took him away to lock him up.

Apparently, the news travel fast, but SHIELD travels faster, and hearing Loki was alive was enough to mobilize and capture the injured God and lock him in a crystal prison cell in a SHIELD base. If Loki had a coin for every time that happened… he’d have two.

He couldn’t say Thor didn’t do anything about it. He could hear the thunders and enraged screams from his brother, demanding for an explanation and Loki’s immediate liberation.

“I demand my brother is released immediately!” Thor yelled.

“You should consider yourself grateful we’re allowing your witches to go and heal that world-level threat! He would be better off dead!”

“Don’t you dare speak of my brother like that! Me and all of my people would’ve died if it wasn’t for him!”

Loki wasn’t sure if he was amused or if he felt bad.

It did stroke his ego being called “Asgard’s hero” in the middle of the yelling. It shouldn’t have surprised him that Nick Fury was just as loud as Thor when angry. He couldn’t complain much. It made it much easier to hear what was going on, which was good, he was too weakened to use his magic to spy on them.

The healers tending to his neck sure seemed awkward overhearing the fight. It must have been uncomfortable to be doing your job in a high security cell. So, he tried entertaining the healers as he could. Although all he got was a lecture when his magic drained his energy, and they needed him awake to monitor him.

Soon he got better, he but wasn’t allowed to be out of his cell. It was a bit nostalgic, in some dark and twisted way. It even made him want to fix his old horned helmet, even if Thor would call him a cow for wearing it.

And when things couldn’t get worse… he met you.

“It’s lunch time” a voice said in a weirdly friendly tone before you head popped by the entrance as you balanced a tray of food on your head in an attempt to amuse Loki. He wondered if there were buffoons in Midgard, but you always tried to draw a laugh from him… Tried.

“Tough crowd, eh?”

Loki couldn’t not be baffled by the way you talked to him. Although he couldn’t decide if that was because you surely knew his reputation as Midgard’s terrorist or because you always talked in a friendly and goofy tone in a maximum-security prison in a super-secret spy agency. You also seemed to be awfully young to be here, but you couldn’t be much older than the girl Barton took as his protégée.

“What’s on the menu today?” Loki asked in a more formal tone.

“Why the hurry?” you asked, “don’t tell me you got somewhere else to be.”

“You think you are a lot funnier than you really are” Loki rolled his eyes. “And it’s not very nice to make fun of someone’s disgrace.”

“I hear you think I’m at least a little bit funny” you smiled as you kept balancing the tray of food on your head.

“Please don’t drop my food, I’d like to have at least something to eat” he rolled his eyes.

You tripped on your feet, and he saw the tray falling down, you caught it last second with your shins, and gave him a little sheepish grin.

“Alright, alright, I’m impressed” Loki groaned. “Can I eat now please? Or is having you torment me part of some attempt to break me?”

“Why are you so moody?” you asked. “More than usual, I mean.”

“I’m starving, and you humans eat way too little” Loki finally admitted. “But that is still better than nothing… Please.”

You stopped playing around and you looked at him as you got the tray into his cell.

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were eating so little.” You admitted.

“I barely have energy to cast small illusions, which would serve to entertain myself.” Loki complained as he sat to eat and you sat by the table and looked at him, you didn’t seem afraid, curious at most. You watched him eat and took his dirty plates by the end.

You weirded him out.

You always did something along the same lines; you came to bring him food, teased him a little and then left when you were gone. Although this time you had asked more questions about him. And you seemed more pensive while he ate.

And later that day he got a surprise. Usually, he just saw you to deal with you while he ate. But today you returned with a brown paper bag on your hands and a backpack, you never carried personal objects with you.

“What now?” he groaned.

You said nothing but opened the door to pass him food and slid the bag inside. Loki opened his end and grabbed the bag, it was warm, and it had a strong smell inside, he reached and pulled out a weird soft cushion with a white cover.

“Bur…ger? What this?” he asked as he read the yellow letters.

“It’s food” you smiled. “Cafeteria is closed until dinner, so I thought bringing you something else might boost your mood.”

“This looks like junk” he snarled, making you laugh.

“It’s something like that.”

Loki looked inside the bag and looked at you.

“There’s no fork.”

“You eat it with your hands” you smiled and pretended to grab a burger and bite it. “Like a sandwich.”

“What’s a sandwich?” Loki asked, making you laugh again.

Loki tried to take a bit, imitating your gesture, but you stopped with a squeaky laugh.

“Unwrap it first!” you laughed. “The white thing paper is not edible.”

Usually Loki would’ve argued more. But he had been really hungry, so he agreed.

“The taste is agreeable enough.”

“Try the fries!” you said eagerly.

“These yellow sticks?” he asked pulling out one fry from the bag, and you giggle once again, he was learning you were quite easy to amuse.

“Yes, the yellow sticks, they’re potatoes with salt and soaked in hot oil to cook them” you smiled.

“That sounds unhealthy” he said, but he surely didn’t pass up the extra meal, and while he’d never admit it, but it was tasty.

“It is on the long run” you agreed. “But you don’t eat these every day. It’s more like… something you eat when you particularly crave it. Like a treat.”

“What’s on your bag?” Loki asked, a lot more agreeable now with a full stomach.

“Ah, you said you didn’t have much to do” you said and passed him bag. “It’s a portable DVD player and old movies.”

“I understood the word portable from that whole sentence” Loki said in an obvious tone.

He wasn’t new to technology, but unlike Earth, Asgard only used technology for practical purposes like travel and fighting. Never for entertainment.

“You can watch recorded over produced plays on the screen” you said adapting to what Loki might be familiar with. “Fury said you can’t have access to internet, so I thought since I don’t use this anymore it’d keep you entertained while Thor negotiates your freedom. And if you need something else, I could surely get it for you.”

Loki was trying to process it all while he followed your instructions to set up the devices you brought him. Now he’d finally give some use to the electricity plugins on his cell.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Loki asked.

“I don’t know” you shrugged. “You seem like you could use some kindness.”

“I’m a charity case?” Loki asked, not sure if he was thankful or offended.

“You wish. If I was charitable, I would’ve brought a fancy brand of fast food, and you’re a good junkyard to bring my old stuff” you snarled, making Loki laugh, for real this time.

Your cheeks flushed and were soon surrounded in a clod of silver mist. And when it disappeared you had vanished already.

Now that… Loki didn’t see coming. He had heard of your kind when he took control of some of SHIELD agents, humans with supernatural abilities. You were a mutant, and for the looks of it, one with teleportation powers. Now it made sense why someone seemingly so ordinary was in a place like this, flirting with a prisoner.

Interesting.

The next few days you kept bringing him food as usual, but two things had changed. One, the portions were bigger now, Loki now got to eat to a point where he was satisfied. Two, you joked around a lot less, in fact, you simply brought the food and stayed nearby in silence, and Loki had caught you staring at him with rosy cheeks.

So, you did fancy him… Truly interesting. And quite flattering too, he at least had to agree you were quite appealing to stare at.

“I watched one of your… Dee Bee Dees…” Loki started the conversation while he ate. “The one with the funny doctor…”

“That… doesn’t narrow it down much” you finally spoke. “Sarcastic asshole with a wounded leg?”

“He is sarcastic, but he treats patients with joy and laughter and goes against the rules. Like the pair of legs at the entrance” Loki specified. “It was a sweet story… I did feel bad for him when he lost his… you know.”

“Ah, yeah…” you said sadly.

For a few more days, the routine kept like that, you seemed a lot shyer than before and now Loki was the one pursuing your attention and with an arsenal of movies you had watched he always had a way to start conversation.

When he was sure he had properly understood your interest in him, he made his move.

While Loki wasn’t as flashy as Thor, he never had much trouble swooning anyone of his interest, with years of etiquette lessons and nourishing his mind with the most exquisite novels and books Asgard had to offer he knew how to charm anyone he desired.

And soon enough he was courting you. He recited for you the collection of the most exquisite verses he had memorized and casted his illusions of roses and butterflies for you to enjoy a romantic set up.

Soon Fury had two people demanding for his liberation. And since Loki had been in his best behavior Fury didn’t have an excuse to keep Loki locked up and while he had a tracker on his ankle and Asgardian magic bracelets capable of suppressing his magic.

You were there when they let Loki out and he made sure to hug you first. The more in love he seemed, the sooner he’d be truly free. You melted against his embrace and wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug.

Loki felt a light tug on his chest. He couldn’t remember the last time someone out of his parents and Thor been so eager and happy to hug him.

“I had been dreaming of this…” you spoke softly. “And your hugs are even cozier than I imagined.”

That felt like a dagger to his heart. Why were you so sweet?

“Alright, Bambi, if you try something your little sweetheart will let us know right away, got it?” Tony warned him.

You wrapped your arms around Loki’s bicep pressing yourself against him.

“He’s gonna be perfect” you defended him. “And if I’m wrong you can lock me up as well for helping a criminal out.”

Second dagger. What kind of idiot were you trusting him so blindly? Could you really not see he just wanted his freedom?

Loki finally had a proper room, or something like that. He would be staying in the Avengers Compound when the Helicarrier landed… until then there was a room where he, Thor, and basically everyone stayed.

Your bed the one right above Loki’s. Loki sighed. Just a few more days. Loki laid down and saw you looking down at him, peeking from your bed with big sparkling eyes.

“Yes?” Loki said in his best sweet loving tone.

“S-Sorry…” you mumbled as your cheeks got red. “I’m just really happy you’re here.”

“Aww, young love…” Kate cooed.

“SHUT UP! I’M OLDER THAN YOU!” you screeched and threw a pillow right at her face, making Loki smiled softly.

“You’re both babies…” Yelena grinned.

“Shut up, you hag!” you and Kate argued.

“You’re all babies…” Bucky corrected.

“DON’T STICK YOUR NOSE, YOU FOSSIL!” the three of you argued.

“I’m… not gonna join this argument being 1,500 years old” Thor laughed and soon eased the mood in all laughter again.

Meanwhile Loki wouldn’t stop thinking what you said to him. “I’m happy you’re here.” Third stab… How could you be so happy and attached to him so easily and quickly?

The next few days he had resigned to adapt to train with you. He had been a warrior all his life, but being a soldier was too boring for him. It was a lot of training, gym workouts, more training, and meetings. He saw you nodding off during the latter. Where did you pull the energy to play and joke around with him when you went to bring food to him while he had been locked up?

You yawned and rested against his shoulder as you dozed off during lunch once. You were so warm and trusted him more than he deserved. You seemed awfully comfortable around him.

Every spare moment you had was dedicated to him, you were awfully cuddly and touchy. Loki wasn’t used to this in the slightest. At first playing along seemed impossible. But your kisses were so gentle and tender, more often than not he found his eyes fluttering close and his hands wrapping around your waist in a loving way. Even sharing a room with a lot of people seemed more fun if he got to study your reactions.

“Take that!” you screamed as you and Kate smacked each other with pillows, but when a stray pillow hit Natasha in the back of the head, it was war.

Everyone was throwing and hitting each other with pillows until someone pushed you to Loki’s arms who had stayed out of the war as just a bystander. No one seemed to be paying much attention to him, but now you were.

Your face was beet red, and you were blabbering apologies if you had hurt him, (which, you hadn’t). But Loki simply smiled and grabbed your sides and started squeezing them, causing you to squeal and burst out laughing.

Oh, of course you were ticklish, he should’ve known. Hel, you irradiated this aura that just screamed “tickle me!” And as the God of Mischief, he was drawn to ticklish little things such as yourself, to make sure he could exploit every ticklish little inch of your giggly body. It had always been a pretty harmless way to ease his need to cause mayhem.

Soon the entire room was in fits of laughter since Loki had unintentionally inspired a tickle war.

“H-Hohohohoney! Pleahahahahase!” you begged Loki, “thahahahahat tickles!”

“So? I hope it doesn’t bother you, my dear” Loki purred in your ear as his fingers traveled up and down your ribs, causing you to screech. “I think I’d like to play with my pretty little toy some more…”

“Nohohohoho! Please! Hehehehehe! S-Stop it!” you giggled until you had proofed to reappear at the top bunk bed, right by the time someone else had surrendered and called truce.

Thor. His stomach was sore from laughing and he needed a break. But the big Asgardian was confident enough to not be affected by being the one to surrender in such harmless play fight.

“I’m nostalgic” Thor laughed. “Reminds me of the sleep overs with Fandral, Volstagg, Hogun and Sif.”

“I wouldn’t know, I was never invited.” Loki said.

“WHAT?!” you gasped and threw a pillow at Thor’s head in Loki’s defense. “JERK! TO YOUR OWN BROTHER!”

“What do you mean?” Thor asked. “You rejected us every time.”

“What are you talking about? You never invited me, brother” Loki explained. “By the time I had found out, you were all locked in your chambers.”

“Sif and the guys always said you said no” Thor said. “That’s why I always made smaller sleepovers with just you and me. I thought you hated big groups.”

Loki never thought Thor had been clueless, if anything he thought it had been him who rejected him, it never occurred to him it was the rest that orchestrated Loki’s exclusion. It made sense in retrospect, they were more Thor’s friends, not Loki’s.

“I enjoy time to myself,” Loki agreed. “But I’ve never been against big events. I always thought it was you who didn’t want me near your friends…”

“Of course not, brother…”

“Don’t feel bad, Loki” Yelena said in a tone that eased the mood. “Nat used to have sleepover with friends and ban me from her room the whole night. But we’re sisters, adopted or not.”

“I said I was sorry, and I was 11 you resentful crybaby!” Natasha argued with a laugh.

You noticed that had hit a sensitive spot-on Loki and went to sit behind Loki to give him a hug from behind. And it was unexpectedly comforting, he sighed as you kissed his cheek. Growing more and more used to your doting affection, you were also rather good to read his mood by now.

It just made him feel more guilty, so he tried changing the subject.

“You poof around when tickled, hm?” Loki chuckled. “Noted.”

“Not just when I’m tickled, when I get worked up by almost anything…” you explained. “I can’t always control it.”

“I see… so, I get you all worked up…” Loki flirted, making you jolt and squeak with a red face. “Heh… I’m flattered.”

“What about you?” you asked when you calmed down, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Does something like that happen to you?”

“Mmm… my magic is also very tied to my feelings is mostly surges of magic when I’m pissed off.” Loki shrugged. “In a way, the source of my magic abilities come from my control of how I feel. Which is why Thor could never learn sorcery… he couldn’t ever keep calm and focus enough.”

It felt a bit of a cheap answer, his guilt told him you were always vulnerable with him. There was another thing…

Alright, now that no one was paying attention to you two.

“When I was little, I used to have a lot of nightmares, and my mother stayed with me and taught me this spell… it allows you to invite someone else to your dreams, to put it simply. She taught me that spell to help me with the bad dreams… And sometimes I still cast it involuntarily while I sleep. It’s… what’s the word? Automatic, at this point.”

“You haven’t used it since we met” you pointed out.

“There’s these preventing that” Loki wiggled the magic cuffs on his wrists, and you shrank sheepishly. “Maybe one day I’ll have you sleep visiting… who knows…”

You smiled too eagerly at the idea… it was painful to see the adoration in your eyes.

The next night you were chatting happily, you laid on the floor with your feet hanging on Loki’s bed. Surprisingly he didn’t mind too much, he found himself much more engaged on the conversation. He simply rested his hand on your shin, caressing it with his thumb.

But at some point during the chat his hand brushed by your ankle, something that should’ve caught his attention way sooner. A location tracker like his. He brushed his fingers along the band, and you jolted, quickly making a bad excuse before rushing out. A terrible liar dating the god of lies. How ironic.

“I didn’t know… I thought I was the only one with one of these…” Loki pointed to his tracker.

“All mutants and non-SHIELD affiliated have one” Tony explained with a yawn. “Basically, if you have superpowers, you have two options, be an agent or an avenger.”

“Or locked up” Loki concluded, and the way no one answered, confirming his suspicion.

“You’re gonna be joining us, right, brother?” Thor smiled.

“Do I have a choice?”

Loki chuckled, he had been thinking about this prior to this information, the fear of actually losing his brother when Thor was ready to leave him forever in Sakaar had been too great.

But what about you? You didn’t strike him the superhero style, a were a fragile and sensitive little thing, and he couldn’t picture you in the battlefield, but being a soldier was clearly taking a huge toll on you. You seemed perpetually exhausted living like this.

“Has my darling decided yet?” Loki asked, he didn’t plan on the pet names, but it felt weirdly natural as it rolled off his tongue. It felt right.

“Not before meeting you, we had tried, but I’d say with you two together… things have changed for the better.” Steve assured him. “It’s a relief though, you two would be great assets in the future, and the life at the compound is bit freer and more independent.”

For some reason, Loki smiled at the sound of that.

“It’s gonna be for the best” Bruce smiled. “Fury can be quite severe, and the soldier life isn’t for everyone…”

Loki couldn’t see you long term here, you’d be overworking yourself for a lifestyle too demanding and that you didn’t even like. It would be for the best to be an Avenger… at least that’d give you some more freedom.

By then, the mood had died down and everyone went to bed, turning off the lights way before you arrived. A few more minutes passed… and nothing. Loki considered going to find you when you opened the door, guiding your way with your phone’s flashlight. You had a messy damp ponytail, and baggy pajamas. You arrived and sat by Loki’s bed and immediately collapsed right beside him, invading his bed. He was ready to climb and use yours when you he felt a tug on his shirt.

“Let me stay with you…” you mumbled with your eyes closed, it seemed you still had some consciousness.

Loki nodded and laid down beside you, wrapping his arm over you, and tucking you under the bedsheets. He had to keep appearances. Yeah… Of course.

He studied you for a while. Your hair was soft, and it smelled like wild berries, shampoo he had started using as well because it smelled so nice. Your skin was soft and smooth, it was addictive to trace his fingers along your body. He traced circles along your side.

“Nooo… thahahat tickles…” you giggled and shifted in your half-asleep state, making something stir within Loki. “You can tickle me all you want in the morning, okay baby…?”

“Ohoho! Is that so?” Loki chuckled. “That’s dangerous thing to offer to the God of Mischief don’t you think?”

“’s okay… I trust you…” you yawned snuggling against his chest.

“Y-You do…?”

“You’d never do anything to hurt me…” you assured him, even with your brain fighting with all it’s might to not succumb to exhaustion.

Once his eyes adapted to the darkness, he stared at your face. Your features were gentle, with a pureness that only a heart that hadn’t been corrupted with cruelness and malice would have. It made him feel weak.

“I love you” you mumbled, kissing his lips before finally falling asleep with the most peaceful smile he had ever seen on anyone that was this close to him.

“I… I love you too…” he whispered and kissed the top of your head.

Now Loki genuinely wanted to stab himself through the chest, he deserved nothing less.

The next morning was the last time he’d be in the Helicarrier for a long time if he could help it. Both of you got the trackers removed and he was officially free. The magic cuffs were taken off of Loki and he immediately summoned a huge illusion that had a radius of a few kilometers as he stretched and showed off.

A huge double rainbow, oh how he had missed using his magic like this. He noticed your eyes sparkling in admiration.

Thor helped him unpack and you two were assigned neighbor bedrooms so the lovey dovey couple could stay close. You seemed ecstatic, you set your room and invited him to see it.

It was very much what he expected from you. Cozy and cute, just being inside made him want to lay down on your bed and sleep. And of course you had a pile of stuffed animals. He laid back on your bed, sinking in the mattress and fluffy covers.

Adorable.

“Honey bunny, I’m gonna go to the city alone today… don’t follow me” you warned him and proofed away before reappearing for a second. “And don’t snoop around my stuff! Love ya!”

And you disappeared in a gust of silvery white mist. Loki napped on your bed for a while, but… he couldn’t resist, he was curious by nature. He walked by your desk and saw the mirror of had a bunch of photos of him stuck to the board, he wasn’t smiling in any of them, and most had been taken him by surprise. Loki would’ve thought it weird, but the two of you were dating. And you only did what was normal for someone in a relationship. He smiled softly at how purely infatuated you were.

“Loki!” you called for him, so you had returned. He went to find you.

You had smiled so brightly as you jumped to his arms and showered his face in loving smooches.

“I missed you!” you smiled between kisses.

“You just left an hour or so…” he chuckled.

“It’s still too much time away from you!” you snuggled with him. “I missed this pretty face.”

“Heh…” he chuckled.

“I bought us something.” You smiled and handed him a golden bracelet with a round item on the middle. You kept the silver one. “It’s a distance touch bracelet.”

You touched your bracelet, and he felt his buzzing. Oh. He knew this couldn’t have been cheap. And you still didn’t hesitate to get it for him.

“Now you can feel me close, even if I vanish, or if we can’t be with each other.” You giggled.

His heart fluttered. How could there be someone so overly sweet? To him, of all people.

“Thank you…” he smiled.

Days passed and Loki’s sanity was evaporating in thin air. Guilt was eating him alive.

You were in truly, madly, and hopelessly in love with him. You wanted nothing but the best for him and you always showered him with love, affection and the sweetest kisses he had ever tasted. And worst of it all, he was falling in love with you. He deserved no love from you, but he had it… And it filled his heart with a warmth he didn’t deserve. Oh, you poor lovely thing, if you only knew how cruel his intentions had been to start your relationship.

He did what you wanted now, trying to make up for it. He didn’t want you to feel like you did all the job in a relationship anymore. Soon the photos were more couple y, of kisses and hugs, Loki took photos of you more as well. He invited you to read and nap with him.

He tickled you lots, and making you giggle in his arms as he held you close. He hugged you tight, trying to squeeze in all the love he had develop for the kind soul that had been nothing but sweet to him. In a wordless pray for your forgiveness.

He did everything that occurred to him would make you happy.

“No way! You’re ticklish?!” you gasped with an ear-to-ear grin.

“Terribly so, I can’t stand being ticked in between my ribs” he smiled as he rested his chin on your head, with you sitting on his lap. “My magic acts up on its own if I get overwhelmed, like you.”

“Really?” you giggled and caressed his sides. “Can I try?”

“For a kiss…” he smiled and puckered his lips for a smooch, which you complied with a huge grin. “I adore you… Fine, you got one minute to tickle my ribs.”

“Just one minute?” you whined with that lovely smile of yours.

“Thirty seconds?” he smiled.

“Eh?!” you whined. “One minute!”

“See how convincing I am?” he grinned.

“Oh, you—” you said and turned around to start poking and prodding his ribs, Loki couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Ack! Hehehehe!” he whined, you were too good at this, he was laughing his heart out. “S-Stohohohop! Hehehehe! I-It’s been a minute! Hahaha! S-Stop!”

“I’m not done with you, you pretty tease!” you giggled and kept prodding between his ribs.

“Oh yeheheah?!” he laughed and skittered his fingers along your belly.

You were squealing and giggling in the blink of an eye. But you didn’t stop tickling him.

“Hehehehe! Hic! G-Give up!” you giggled and squirmed as you prodded his sides.

“You give up! Hahahahaha!” he giggled squeezed your tummy and skittered his fingers along your armpits.

“Ack! Noohohohoho!” you whine and squeezed above his kneecaps, making him jump and ergo you fell off his lap and onto the couch.

“You’re in trouble…” he grinned and his fingers, poked, drilled, kneaded and scratch over every sensitive spot on your body, and it didn’t matter if you gave up. He didn’t stop until you were breathless.

Only then he stopped and held you in his arms.

“Remind me to not tickle you again, you’re sadistic” you smiled.

“You know it, darling…” he smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Did you have fun?”

“Mhm…” you smiled and leaned against him. “I love you.”

You were beyond ecstatic. You melted under all of his affection and more time he spent with you, the more he couldn’t deny his feelings for you.

He did it everything he could to make you happy. But nothing he did alleviated his guilt. He could only imagine the amount of heartache you would feel if you found out he had only used you to try looking better adjusted and be free, and that he had pretended to fall in love.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. He was going insane. He walked around the compound like a ghost during the night. He did a stop to throw up in the toilet.

“You’re awake,” you surprised him despite your gentle tone. “Is something bothering you?”

“N-No, love. I just wasn’t feeling very tired.” He assured you. “Don’t worry. Go back to sleep.”

You placed your hands on his hips and leaned closer to him the way you did whenever you were going to kiss him. But you took a little sniff—probably smelling his bad breath—you stopped and smiled at him with kindness.

“Mmm… Insomnia, hm?” you smiled and pulled him to the kitchen. “I know just the cure.”

You heated up water and prepared him a tea with honey. The warmth of the drink ran through him as the sweet drink got rid of the bad taste, and he sighed a tear streaming down his face.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his face.

“I’ve done so many awful things… And…” he spoke softly. “I don’t know how to fix them… I don’t deserve any forgiveness…”

“Oh Loki…” you hugged him. “No one blames you… you didn’t mean it… I’ve seen your pretty heart, and you deserve all the love in the world… Gosh, if I could take all the pain, you’re feeling for myself, I would.”

“Please don’t say that…” he begged. He couldn’t handle anymore guilt, but he didn’t know how to tell you the truth.

You gently guided him to your bedroom and tucked him in your bed, wrapping your arms around him in a protective way.

“Forgive me love... Please forgive me…” he begged between mutters. “I take it all back… please… Please don’t hate me… please…”

“Shh…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. “It’s all gonna be okay… I’m always gonna be here for you.”

Between the warm tea, his exhaustion, the previous sleepless nights, your comfortable bed, and your loving touch… his body gave up on him and he fell asleep.

Everything was dark, and cold, covered in ice and a cruel wind. Loki had a good tolerance to cold, but he was freezing.

“Monster…” a voice echoed so loudly it made Loki’s ears ring. It was his own voice and it came from everywhere around him.

“Traitorous rat…”

“Murderer…”

“Beast…”

“Liar…”

“Frost giant…”

“Monster…”

“Manipulator…”

“Liar…”

“We finally had someone’s trust…”

“Of course, you just play around with others!”

Loki was completely surrounded by copies of himself, all at least twice his size, blue skin, Jotun attire, and eyes red like blood. True frost giants.

Loki simply took every blow and insult. He deserved them.

“Loki…?” a different voice called. “Is this what you meant by inviting someone to your dreams?”

No please… you couldn’t be here.

“Darling… wake up… please don’t be here…” Loki begged you. “Please…”

“I’m not leaving you here on your own…” you spoke and kneeled beside him.

Loki felt his body change, every muscle vanished leaving him as practically skin and bones. Small. Weak.

“Loki… what’s going on?! What’s happening to you?!”

Loki tried to shapeshift back to his natural look, but he had no control of his own body. At this point in life, he should be desensitized to nightmares where his magic didn’t obey him… but…

“Please… leave me here…” he spoke as he could, but he could barely hear himself.

“Don’t say that... What’s… what can I do for you?”

There was something about dreams, and especially Loki’s dreams, that always seemed to be extra dramatic. It must have been so confusing to be in one as an outsider.

Loki’s body changed again, he grew twice his usual size, and his body was blue and muscled. Exactly the body of a Jotun.

“STOP BEING SO GOOD TO ME! CAN’T YOU SEE I DON’T LOVE YOU?!”

“What?!”

What?! No! That wasn’t true…

Loki tried to take it back, but he was in autopilot. He was in the passenger seat of his own mind.

“I DON’T LOVE YOU! ARE YOU THAT GULLIBE TO THINK I’D FALL IN LOVE WITH A MORTAL?! I HAVE BEEN USING YOU!”

“No… no, you're not… You wouldn’t…”

“I JUST NEEDED A COVER, TO SEEM WELL ADJUSTED ENOUGH TO NOT BE A PRISONER! AND YOU WERE ANNOYING ENOUGH TO BARGE IN DEFENSE OF ME! I’V BEEN PLAYING WITH YOU FROM DAY ONE! DON’T YOU SEE YOU ARE JUST A TOY?! YOU’RE PATHETIC!”

The look on your face was heartbreaking. You looked crushed.

“I HAVE BEEN THINKING OF A WAY TO GET RID OF YOU! I CAN’T SLEEP AND I WANT TO THROW UP THINKING I HAVE TO PUT UP WITH YOU YET ANOTHER DAY!”

You curled up on the floor and Loki lifted you but your collar’s shirt.

“GET IT INSIDE YOUR HEAD! I COULD NEVER LOVE A MORTAL AS UNNERVING AS YOU!” Loki screamed at you before slamming you against the floor.

“NO!” Loki sat up with a gasp and his body drenched in sweat. He looked around and saw you curled up on the bed, your back facing him. “Love?! Thank goodness… I’m so— Love, w-what’s wrong…?”

You were stiff and you had a hand on the back of your head. Loki shifted and stretched a bit and saw your face. Your eyes were full of tears, yet he had never seen you with such a cold expression in your face.

“My love… and what’s wrong?” Loki placed a hand over your arm, and you slapped it.

“Why did you say that?” you asked him.

“I d-don’t know… I wasn’t… I didn’t…” Loki stuttered. “My dreams are like that…”

“No. I mean, what you said was really specific. Why…?”

“I don’t—I don’t know why I—”

“Tell me the truth, Loki.” You ordered him. “Did you, or did you not pretend to love me for your freedom?”

Loki stayed quiet. He didn’t have the courage to tell you the truth, but he didn’t have the heart to keep lying to you. With that confirmation tears started falling down your cheeks again.

“Y-Yes but I—that was before…”

“Get out…” you spoke.

“What? No, darling, listen… I…”

“I don’t want to hear you.”

“Please love… let me explain…” he tried holding you.

That made you snap. You started hitting him, being a human it was impossible for you to harm him, but not once in his life had he felt more pain.

“DON’T TOUCH ME! DON’T TALK TO ME!”

“Darling please…”

“I DON’T WANNA SEE YOU EVER AGAIN! GET OUT OF MY ROOM AND GET OUT OF MY LIFE!”

He had no strength to fight you, he was defenseless as you kicked him out of your room, slamming the door on his face.

There were a few faces popping out of their door to try seeing what had happened and that quickly retreated back to their rooms. Loki had no choice but to go inside of his own bedroom.

The next morning, he nearly tripped on his way out with a box by is door. It was full of books, quills, a coat, photos of you together. And… the silver bracelet that matched his own. It tore his heart to shreds. He didn’t feel as guilty anymore. But remorse and the memory of how brokenhearted you looked was even more sadistic. He heard you crying often from across the wall.

A few days later the others started giving him dirty looks. Knowing you and considering that this didn’t happen right away he assumed they had found out after heavy interrogation and now everyone knew he had used you. Even Thor seemed upset, not angry, but he had this… disappointment in his eyes.

“I hate dealing with moving companies” Tony sighed as they all sat for dinner. “But Fury wants to have our little Houdini enlisted by the end of the week. It’s a shame… The kiddos enjoyed being around each other.”

“Tell me about it” Clint sighed. “Kate is devastated.”

“Speaking of devastated…” Natasha said as she stood up, and Loki would’ve sworn she was shooting daggers at him with that glare. “See if I can be more convincing about eating something, otherwise Fury will have a corpse enlisting.”

You were moving out? To become a SHIELD agent? But you hated being a soldier. Had he hurt you so bad that you preferred that lifestyle and ruin your life forever… than being around him?

This all felt awfully familiar. Loki excused himself and went to his room and lock himself inside. He closed his eyes, and part of him wished that they’d never open again.

“Am I cursed?” Loki asked, choked up by the last bit of hope.

“No.” Odin responded the worst thing he could've said him. A curse would've been better.

Loki placed the casket down, weakly, it suddenly felt like a very... very heavy thing to carry. And the weight stayed there, right on his chest even after the casket had been placed back at the pedestal.

“Then what am I?” Loki asked softly, afraid of the answer.

“You're my son.” Odin answered, and Loki doubted his own magic since he couldn't detect dishonesty in his father's words.

Clearly that was a lie. So why didn’t his magic detect that? Loki felt rage spiral out of control like a boiling pot.

“What more than that?” Loki growled, still trying to keep his composure as he walked towards his father that was by the stairs at the other side of the corridor. “The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?”

Odin looked him in the eye. Unable to deny it any longer. It had been to many years with that secret. As Loki walked closer, Odin just started at him in silence as Loki reached the stairs.

“No.” Odin finally said. “In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring— abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son.”

That felt like a dagger piercing the young prince’s heart. Out of all the things he was insecure about, it turned out he WAS an outsider. Out of all the things he could’ve been, he HAD to be a Jotun, a monster. Out of all the Jotun’s in existence, he was the son of the worst of them all. And out of all the reasons he could’ve been adopted for, was because even his own biological family didn’t want him… and his adopted family never told him any of this.

“Laufey's son...?” Loki finally managed to gasp out, he was choking up on his own tears. “Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child.” Odin said, sounding more exhausted by the second.

“No!” Loki begged his father, knowing that Odin was a strategic warrior. There was always a meaning behind his actions. “You took me for a purpose, what was it?”

But Odin didn’t answer. The physical toll of delaying his Odin sleep to prepare Thor to rule, preventing a war, the emotional toll of having to banish Thor and now… having his youngest child doubt his love for him because of his foolish decision of not telling him the truth earlier were overwhelming him.

The All-King saw with pain how the little child that once smiled at him with love when he picked him in his arms after the battle now saw him with fear, pain, and resentment.

“TELL ME!” Loki demanded loudly, no longer capable of remaining calm.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace... through you.” Odin confessed.

That was the final blow to Loki’s poor heart.

“What…?”

A tool. All he had been adopted for was as an instrument of peace between Asgard and a race that everyone saw as blood-thirsty monsters.

“But those plans no longer matter.” Odin clarified.

“So, I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up… here, until you might have use of me.” Loki inquired in pain.

“Why do you twist my words?” Odin asked softly.

“You could have told me what I was from the beginning.” Loki urged, desperate to makes sense of what easily was the worst day of his life. “Why didn't you?!”

“You are my son. I wanted only to protect you from the truth.” Odin said softly, in a fruitless attempt to calm his poor child’s heart.

“Wh— B-Because I-I-I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?!” Loki asked, flooded by all the scary stories about the frost giants growing up. All those times he and Thor played heroes as kids fighting those monsters.

“Don't...” Odin begged as his strength slowly abandoned him.

But Loki couldn’t listen anymore. The grief was too great, and the feeling of betrayal didn’t allow him to trust Odin anymore.

“It all makes sense now! Why you favored Thor all these years.” Loki yelled as he started walking up the stairs to yell at Odin as the All-Father slowly lost his strength and started passing out on the stairs. “Because no matter how much you claim to “love” me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!”

Odin kept trying until his last second of consciousness to beg his son for help, forgiveness… anything. But he had been too weakened to dedicate his young boy some kind of love or reassurance as he fell prey to the Odin sleep, he had delaying for so long.

Now Loki encountered a similar dilemma. He had been stupid, dishonest, and selfish to someone who offered him nothing but unconditional love. He betrayed your trust and there was no way now that Loki could prove that despite his original intentions his love wasn’t any less real.

He laid down on his bed, with his arm draped dramatically over his eyes.

“Troubled, my son?” a voice spoke making Loki sit up.

“Father” Loki smiled softly. “I ruined it. I had the most beautiful love in my life… and I was stupid and lost it because of my own selfishness.”

“That sounds familiar” Odin chuckled. “You truly are my son, after all.”

“You had always been will always be my father…” Loki said the words he had denied for several years. “I never understand your reasons. Cruel as they were…”

“Not holding back against your old father, hm?” Odin laughed.

“Sorry…” Loki smiled softly.

“My original reasons were foolish, selfish, and even cruel as you rightfully… but I always hoped to do what would be best for the 9 Realms” he spoke. “But that didn’t mean the love I had for you wasn’t any less real. You are my son, regardless of the kind of blood that coursed through your veins.”

Loki smiled softly; it was weird. He knew Odin would have never say all that. But now, after growing up so much, he understood it wasn’t because he didn’t feel it, he had always been too proud and formal, too much of a king. And while imperfect, it was still his father.

“That’s why you never caught me lying when I called you my son or said that I loved you.” Odin spoke. “In my heart, you’ve always been my son.”

“I know, father” Loki smiled. “I’m sorry it took me so long to understand it.”

“I’m sorry I never told you before… I feared you wouldn’t take it well…”

“Me? I would never” Loki joked softly.

“We always loved you as our own” a female voice added making Loki turned around.

“Mother.” Loki spoke breathless. “I know… I know… I knew, I was just too scared I could’ve been wrong, and you didn’t…”

“You were too much of a charming kid not to love you” Frigga said compassionately. “Your little human surely thinks so too.”

Ah… that… Loki wasn’t so sure.

“I ruined it, I deserve nothing but the hatred and disgust I’ve earned from my darling.” Loki huffed out. “I manipulated, lied, and destroyed the trust of my love.”

“Dear, there’s nothing final in these matters…” Frigga smiled softly. “If that loved blossomed once, you may rescue it and nourish it again. But first… you need to apologize.”

“I don’t think I’m wanted anywhere near hearing range.” Loki explained.

“Do you think the love between your mother, and I always had a perfect relationship?” Odin smiled.

“Your father was too temperamental for that” Frigga intervened with a smile and both parents looked at each other with love. “But when you truly love someone and you make a mistake, you swallow your pride and make up for your wrongdoings.”

Loki smiled softly, he remembered it well. When Odin’s temper got the best of him because of the stress of being a king, Odin made sure to make up for Frigga know how truly sorry he was, and Frigga who already knew her husband’s temper was an expert on not letting her affect her, knowing it was never personal. She had truly been blessed with infinite patience given she dealt with three men with bad tempers and yet her kindness and loving nature knew no end. It was not rare to see Odin gifting Frigga fancy gifts and spend long hours apologizing and dedicating the day to her. It wasn’t the perfect arrangement, but no relationship was.

Loki chuckled softly.

“Thanks…” he smiled and both parents tended a hand to him with a smile. “I know what I have to do.”

Ready to say goodbye, Loki placed his hands on top of Odin and Frigga’s, and with that, the figure of his parents faded under a green light as Loki’s palms stopped glowing. Loki let out a little laugh as he wiped his tears.

His illusions had never been so benevolent towards himself, they were either torturous or for a fake sense of gloating and dissociation. But your compassion had changed him forever. He could use them for closure and to guide him with the stuff he knew but needed to hear. And… you deserved that at least.

He got up and went outside and went to a trip. It took him around an hour to get to the city and a couple more hours to get his several stops get several gifts. A lovely white bouquet of flowers, a box of your favorite chocolates, a necklace with a cute silver heart shaped locket and got it printed with a small photo, a copy of a photo he had carried from one of your first “dates” you got where you were giving him a small kiss in the cheek and cupped the other one, a symbol of your shared love.

On his way back, Loki held the original photo close to his chest and sighed. He prayed this would work as he was on his way to see you. He knocked on your door and hid his gifts behind himself, not even remembering he could’ve concealed them with his magic from how nervous he was.

His chest tightened as you opened the door, your eyes and nose were red, and your cheeks were stained with tears. Oh Norns… He had hurt you really bad.

“Love… Please… let me explain” Loki spoke softly.

“What do you need to explain, Loki?” you asked and sniffled, practically murdering him when you called him Loki instead of one of your lovely cheesy pet names. “That I was just a toy for you to play with and pretend that you loved me, so you’d be a free man? I got that quite clearly.”

You were ready to slam the door on his face, but he reached his leg to stop you. He nearly dropped one of your gifts. You looked at him confused, eying him up and down before sighing in defeat, opening the door he walked inside of your little room. He saw the little night table covered with used tissues and the bed’s decorative cushions were all over the place. It broke his heart.

“What do you want, Loki?” you asked tiredly as you sat on the bed, placing a cushion on your lap and against your chest.

“My darling, I was the biggest, most cruel and inconsiderate imbecile of all 9 Realms” he said, kneeling before you as he handed you the bouquet of flowers. You gently placed the flowers on your lap, still looking at him.

“It is true, that I was looking to just find a relationship to pretend I had adapted to living on earth” he spoke. “It was a selfish, shallow, and dishonest reason to make you mine… But I did it. It was heartless and there’s no excuse or reason for you to forgive that. But I beg of you to stay here… never speak to me again if you need, but don’t settle to a life of misery just to avoid me. I will happily accept being locked up in a dungeon for a hundred years, so you don’t see the likes of me again…”

He handed you the chocolate, and your gaze softened for a second as you saw the chocolate, he remembered which ones you liked the most. You opened your mouth to speak, but a gentle squeeze to your hands let you know Loki still wanted to speak.

He had caused all of this for not telling you the truth, and now he wanted to fully bare his soul to you now.

“You offered me boundless kindness, patience despite my flaws, understanding to my pain and sins of the past, laughter like I hadn’t enjoyed before, you fed with the most delicious and warm foods I had ever eaten, you showed me the concept of dates and you bared me completely vulnerable to your touch and heart and you bared yourself completely to me without fear of me…” Loki continued, as tears streamed down his face, drowning in regret. “And all I did was play with you and betray the trust your selfless heart gave me without asking for anything in return.”

He placed his forehead on your knees and sobbed, completely ashamed of what he had done to you. He didn’t deserve your forgiveness, but he felt like he’d die without you. And he’ deserve it.

“I don’t care” you finally spoke, and he looked up, he saw the tears streaming down your face. “You’re the God of Mischief and Lies, there are countless stories of how you lied and manipulated to get away with anything you wanted… I should’ve expected I’d be just that.”

“No— No, darling!” Loki held your hands and pressed his lips against your knuckles. “No, my sweet, you— I was selfish. I wanted a cover up, yes, but what I found was love, I found the butterflies in my stomach you always speak of. I found the warm of your hands lingering on my skin after our dates. I found myself awake during the night sighing over those lovely eyes I’ve now so cruelly filled with tears…” Loki spoke softly.

You were shaking in your place as you did your best not to cry and interrupt him. He brushed his finger along your cheek as in appreciation of your effort.

“None of what you heard that night was true in my heart…” he assured you “I never felt so disgusted I wanted to vomit; it was guilt that was killing me from the inside… knowing I was hurting such a beautiful flower.”

He handed you the heart locket and you opened it, seeing the photo made you sob as silently as you could.

“I was selfish and a liar. I don’t blame you if you don’t believe me and want nothing to do with me again. But please know that my heart beats for and because of you only.” He spoke. “I fell hopelessly and irredeemably in love with you. I swear that on my life.”

You looked at him and smiled, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed now freely and unrestrained. Time seemed to stop for Loki as he hugged you back, taking in your scent and caressing you. Tears fell down his face and he held you, afraid you’d disappear if he let go of you.

You forgave him. He didn’t think he’d ever be so lucky to find a kind soul that would forgive even his worst mistake. But he found it, you were kind enough to do so. Your wrapped your arms around him in a warm hug and Loki was able to let all the pain and guilt go… He couldn’t undo his mistakes, but he could be better, and he wanted to be his best self for you.

“Thank you… Norns, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” he repeated over and over between whispers and tears as he held you tight.

You sat up straight and cupped his face and laughed softly as you still cried happy tears.

“You’re gonna have to buy me a new box of tissues, you booger” you joked softly with a sniffle, and pressed your forehead to his and grabbed a tissue to blow your nose.

“I’ll give you the entire world if you so desire, my love” he spoke with a gentle smile. “Just say the word.”

“I don’t need the world” you smiled and kissed his cheek. “I have everything I need right here.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” he chuckled softly as he grabbed a tissue to wipe his tears and blow his nose. “I’m a disaster and somehow I still found the most precious little dove all for myself.”

You held him tightly in a hug… in silence for a few minutes before you spoke again.

“Did you think I was annoying when we first met?” you asked with a stern look on your face. “I want the truth.”

“Truthfully… you were a nightmare…” Loki admitted in a soft playful tone.

“HEY!” you whined and dug your fingers into the crevices of his ribs making him burst out laughing. “I said honest, not mean!”

“Ehehehe! Lohohohohove, let me finish!” he giggled, letting you have this, it was the least he could do. “P-Please, s-stohohohop that! Not there!”

You smiled and went to tickle his belly. Oh, you had really not liked that.

“Plehehehehehease, dahahaharling! I surrender!” he laughed and did his best to not squirm.

“Fine… what is it?” you asked, as you sat sideways on his lap, already happily cuddling with him.

Thank whatever superior force that was out there… Oh, you’re a wonderful blessing.

“You’re a nightmare turned into a dream” he clarified and he didn’t even bother fighting the urge to squeeze you tightly.

“You have 3 seconds to explain how that’s a compliment o I’ll tickle you until you puncture a lung.”

“Ihihi— I mean like, when you start having a bad dream… but it turns around as the most wonderful of dreams, those that you still think about after waking up.” Loki said, and as those words he was sure he had fried his brain because he didn’t make any sense.

But that was enough for you.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” You grumbled.

“C’mon… don’t be mad at me for being foolish and wrong” he smiled as he squeezed you tight. “Surely you thought I was insufferable at first as well, we’re so different after all.”

You smiled and shook your head.

“I love my pretty prince” you smiled and picked a tissue yourself to clean your face. “Flaws, differences, and all.”

“Do you, now?” he grinned cheekily. “I sure am a lucky one to be called yours.”

“A Loki one” you giggled, and Loki made a scowl of disgust. “Sorry! I thought it too late when I said it and— hehehe!”

“Oh, that was awful— C’mere… you!”

“W-What?! NO! NOHOHOHOHO! LOHOHOHOKI, STOP IHIHIHIT!”

As he made you laugh and held you against him, he couldn’t doubt how fortunate he was to be so undoubtedly yours.

| MASTERPOST |

#marvel tickles #marvel fluff #loki laufeyson #ticklish!loki #lee!loki #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #lee!reader #ler!reader #loki x reader #loki tickle #loki fluff #ducky writes tickles

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agroteraa · 11 months ago

Text

The Wrath of the Stag

Chapter two (the finale)

Oliver Quick x f!Reader

My fic masterlist

Part 3.2.

Part 1: Actaeon

Part 2: Artemis

Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)

Warnings: smut, dubcon, fingering, choking, penetration sex, mentions of drugs, almost?onesided!Felix, dark!Oliver, character death, angst.

Word Count: 4K

So, you and Felix had reached the labyrinth.

Lush and blooming in daylight, it seemed hazy and darksome at night. But still, it was the same maze in which you used to love playing hide-and-seek and catch-up with Felix. You could never catch up with him, no matter how much you wanted to, which made you childishly angry, and he laughed and teased you all the time. Now it seemed somewhat symbolic to you.

"So, what did you want, can you finally say, please?" he wondered with a smile. He was already drunk enough, too, but you started sobering up a little from this long walk.

"You were right. Oliver can be weird. I thought we would talk, but he brushed me off and started dancing with one girl, then another... and then he and Venetia..."

You couldn't hold back your tears. Felix hugged you, comforting you. His warm embrace protected you from the cool air and sense of desperation. It seems as if he was covering you not only with safe arms, but also with his angelic wings.

"Hush, sweetie, hush," he said, quietly asking after a while, "...is it getting better?"

You nodded, looking up at him with tear-stained eyes.

Felix smiled slightly, gently wiping the tears from your cheek. Raising his eyebrows, he looked at you expressively, there was a pause in the air. Felix bent down and reached for your lips. You started answering without fully understanding what you were doing. All this alcohol, torn feelings, Oliver's behavior and, of course, the unrequited love for Felix buried deep inside you for several years, made you try to experience this feeling at least once. You enjoyed his warm, soft lips, hugging his shoulders, until it completely dawned on you. No, you couldn’t do that. Feelings for Felix were long in the past, and Oliver was in the present. The situation might be terrible and confusing, but at least you need to talk, and only then make such decisions as how to respond to someone's feelings or not. Especially since your feelings and thoughts now actually belonged to Oliver.

You gently pushed the guy away from you, "I'm sorry, Felix. I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"I'm... thinking about Oliver now."

"What?" he couldn't believe his ears, "Are you really ready to forgive this freak, even after everything I've told you?"

"We should at least listen to his side... and besides, I have... feelings for him," you finally admitted.

"Y/N, what should we listen to? He's a liar and a creep, that's all! What feelings? Oh, don't make me upset, please. I wouldn't want you to choose anyone over me, but if it's Oliver, then it's some kind of insult even!"

He grimaced, and you got angry, "Well, then don't be offended and better choose your own friends next time. Or, as your sister says, "toys"! But it's not for you to tell me who I should or shouldn't be with!"

"Fine. Have fun then! But I assure you, Oliver is unlikely to stay here for long..." Felix threw up his arms, and in a fit of anger turned around and left the maze.

* * *

Not far from the house, he plopped down on a bench, where Farleigh approached him with some two girls. Felix moodily lit a cigarette.

"Hey, buddy, what’s with the face?"

Catton Jr. said nothing and only frowned more, rolling the cig in his lips. Farleigh gave him a drink from his bottle, and then, turning around, quietly suggested, "Coke?"

* * *

You were wiping away the remnants of tears, leaning on the statue of the Minotaur and inhaling the sobering cool air. Looking up, you met the gaze of a horned monster. Despite the intimidating appearance, his eyes were plaintive, like a gentle cow's. You always paid attention to this detail, ever since you had noticed it once as a child, it helped you stop being afraid of the statue when you were running with Felix and Venetia in the maze. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Perhaps even worthy of pity.

A familiar horned silhouette appeared in the maze.

"Oliver? How did you..."

"How did you like the party, Y/N? It seems that you completely abandoned your birthday boy tonight," he was slowly approaching you from the darkness. Up close, Oliver looked even more amazing in this suit. You involuntarily looked him up and down, lingering with your gaze on the naked torso peeking out from under the jacket, on which again hung only one chain reflecting the light of the moon. His summer-tanned skin contrasted so well with the glaringly white suit. The pebbles creaked softly under his feet as he came up to you and gently stroked your neck. Your skin covered with goosebumps. You swallowed, pushing those thoughts aside.

"Are you kidding me now? I didn't leave you for the whole evening. And it wasn't me dancing with some random girls and Venetia."

"Oh yeah? But it wasn't me who kissed one of the Cattons this evening!" his fingers closed palpably around your throat.

"Oliver... what are you doing..." he let the grip, and you continued, "Are you crazy? Why the hell were you following us? You're really doing this, gods… Just like Felix said... "

"Said what?"

"That you were watching Venetia and me and that you... did obscene things and told him that you... liked both of us."

He narrowed his eyes, "What else did Felix tell you today?"

You frowned, "That's all," he continued to look at you silently, "That’s enough for me, isn’t it for you?"

He pinned you at the pedestal of the monument, enclosing you between his strong arms. He looked at you with unblinking, darkening eyes and asked, "So, why the hell did you kiss Felix Catton?"

"He kissed me! I've been wanting to talk to you all evening, and you brushed me off... and then you started dancing with some girl.… And then with Venetia… And that's after everything Felix told me.… He tried to comfort me, but I... refused him. I wanted to talk to you first," hot tears rolled down your cheeks again. His face seemed to soften a little.

"First of all," Oliver said, "calm down, my dear. Secondly, you don't know anything. Thirdly," he runs his thumb over your left cheek, wiping away tears," This is still not a reason to kiss someone else. I'll explain everything clearly to you now."

Without warning, he got under the hem of your dress and inserted one finger into you. You exhaled sharply.

"About the window case... yes. I was looking at you, just at you, unable to look away. I will not apologize for this, although it is a pity that Felix and, in the end, you misunderstood me because of him. But these are his problems. Are you going to be mad at me for not being able to resist your beauty? Don't be silly, Y/N. Did you see yourself lying in a swimsuit under the hot summer sun? I did. I'll tell you, it's a sight that you can't handle yourself. Or rather, it was only my hand that could somehow handle it."

He added a second finger and slightly accelerated the pace.

"What about the party… I was in a bad mood, I needed to talk to Felix and explain about this situation so that he wouldn't upset you, but I couldn't find him anywhere. So, I asked his friend first, and then his sister. The fact that they were both drunk, high and desperate for any male attention is not my problem either. I don't know what you’ve imagined..."

The pace of his fingers became ruthless, Oliver also added a third finger, and it almost caused you real pain from the suddenness of everything that was happening. Another tear involuntarily rolled down your cheek.

"...but I've been hoping all evening that after talking to Felix that I'll finally get, as you said, my main gift..."

He licked your hot tear off your face with his even hotter tongue.

"You."

You almost came from a mixture of fear, excitement and arousal.

"I saw you walk past me, holding his hand and not saying a word to me. Of course, I followed you, especially since I needed to talk to him. And what do I see? How he. Kisses. My. Girlfriend."

It was the first time he had said "girlfriend". In a different environment, you'd been absolutely happy, but now a feeling of unknown anxiety had been added to this feeling. Oliver himself would prefer announcing it in different circumstances, but there we go. He pulled out your fingers, which glistened in the dark. You were panting a little. He ran his digits lightly over his lower lip.

"Tell me, is my name Felix Catton?"

You were silent. He couldn't be serious, could he?.. But Oliver leaned over to you and almost whispered his question into your lips, "Is. My. Name. Felix. Catton?"

"No..."

"So, what is my name?" he asked, staring intently into your eyes so that you wanted to sink through the ground. His hands squeezed your forearms painfully enough.

"O-Oliver..." you answered almost soundlessly.

"I can't hear you, Y/N. Say it a little bit louder, please."

You were silent, shaking slightly. It was like the air has left your lungs. Oliver sighed.

He took you by the hips and pulled you to him, turning you over with your chest and stomach on the pedestal of the monument, your front parts of your body were not used to the cold of the stone and immediately became covered with goosebumps, just like your palms and elbows, which you had to lean on now. He bent you and spread your legs wide apart, lifting the hem of your dress.

"You have a very beautiful outfit today, darling. I'm sorry I was out of sorts and didn't say it sooner – you look amazing tonight. Of course, I noticed it right away," you heard the sound of a belt slowly unbuckling, and then the sound of a fabric coming down, "So, who is this? Helena? Or Hermia? Oh, it must be Hermia, isn’t it? How ironic. I hope in this version of the story she won't have to choose between Lysander and Demetrius?"

Oliver, holding your hips, bent down and left a few kisses on your neck, going down to your shoulder blades.

"She won't have to."

With those words, he entered you, abruptly and without warning. You exhaled in a little shock. Oliver entered and fill you up completely at once and, almost without giving you time to get used to it, began unhurried, but nevertheless impatient movements with his hips. You started to sigh and whine, feeling yourself getting wetter by the second. He smiled, feeling it, "I didn't expect anything else. So, tell me, dear, what's my name? Only louder this time."

You let out a moan in response, and Oliver picked up the pace, "I'm going to bang those words out of you."

Your eyes were watering, but he watched the way you were twisting and panting. You liked this. He could see it in your face, which was slightly tilted to the side, could feel it within his core. He continued thrusting, his hips meeting your ass with each movement. He reached up, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling you closer, the sensation restricting your breathing ever-so-slightly turned you on even more.

"So... what's my name?"

"Oli...ver..." you moaned, stumbling because of his strong grip and the rhythm he had set.

He practically went in and out of you completely with every move, the stone of the pedestal seemed to melt under you. The feeling of a little fear and anxiety completely turned into a pleasure that overshadowed everything else. Oliver took his hand off your throat and moved it to your hair, burrowing into it slightly.

"Oliver… Oliver!" you said louder, breathing heavily, the words turning into moans again.

"Good girl, that's exactly my name. And all the other names, and even more so lips, hands, and so on, you must forget. This is my wish for my birthday."

You looked back and your eyes finally met. His eyes were completely dark with lust, and his lips crooked into a satisfied smile when he caught your gaze. He was horned and you were incredibly horny. Heck, he was horny too, of course, not to say more.

You gasped every time as he was pushing inside you. You were so fucking tight, still so tight, you were need to be fucked more like that sometimes, he kept thinking to himself as he gritted his teeth, feeling your body pulsating around him.

"Fuck, girl, making such a mess over me," he groaned. His head fell back and his grip on you was tightening.

The moon casted a shadow of the two of you on the ground. Oliver's horned silhouette was crashing into you, and a horned monster was looking at it all from above. You were close to the end.

You were mewling, bucking your hips, wanting to take him deeper, the tip of his cock brushing against your most pleasurable spot with every thrust. He drove into you harder, holding you tighter, clenching his jaw. His pace was absolutely merciless and was already just abruptly knocking the air out of you instead of any screams.

"Oliver!.." you came around his cock, and a minute later he followed you, piling on top of you. He was breathing heavily, and then he kissed you on the shoulder, then on the neck, after that he turned you over and sat you on the pedestal of the statue, straightening your dress.

Buttoning up his white pants, he knelt down, gently wrapping his arms around your leg, kissing your knee and looking deep into your eyes. The feel of his warm fingertips against the slightly cold skin on your calf gave your chills. Then he took your hand, kissed it and pressed his face against it. Closing his eyes, he began to rub his cheek against your hand, burrowing his face into your palm. It was an act of adoration after the act of forcibly asserting his authority.

He was again just a mere stag by his Artemis’s side.

You stroked his dark soft hair, and then you began to grope his antlers. Sharp and hard, now you were stroking them securely, although it seemed that a moment earlier Oliver could stab someone with them out of rage. Maybe even you. Any thing or person, if you look at them closer, does not seem as intimidating as at first glance. Yet maybe not quite any.

He rose from his knees to the level of your face, and leaning on his hands next to your hands, he asked softly and hoarsely, "Are you mine, Y/N?"

His piercingly blue eyes were glowing in the dark along with his suit, which seemed almost luminescent white in the night.

"Yes, Oliver, I am yours," you replied, sealing your promise with a kiss.

* * *

You walked silently back to the house, out of the maze, through the garden, past the pond. The small pebbles crunched under your feet. The fresh air, all these wild experiences and emotions today and their passionate resolution made your legs feel wobblier with every step, and your eyes began to feel weary.

Upon entering the hall where the party was going on, you were greeted by loud music again:

One, two, three, four

Let me hear you scream if you want some more

Like ah, push it, push it

Watch me work it

I'm perfect

Oliver kissed you on the stairs. Few people paid attention, but he knew that Felix would most likely notice if he was here. And he was here, and he noticed. You turned around and saw that Felix was already dancing with some girl and was clearly having a good time with her. You were upset. It didn't last long, you thought bitterly. Even though he probably had a lot to drink, it was no excuse to forget his intentions so quickly. But you didn't know that he had been high for a long time on top of everything else.

"Can you get me something to drink?" you moaned.

"Baby, haven't you had enough for today?" Oliver began mockingly, and then, seeing your frown, added, "The wishes of the birthday boy’s girlfriend are the law," and left for cocktails.

That's right, I'm a superstar

Everybody wanna come up when I'm at the bar

All the people wanna try

It's like, give me some more

Try a little harder, honey

Give me some more

You were looking at Felix and the girl in the fairy costume again. He could not take his hands off her, then bent down and began to whisper something to her, or maybe not only whisper, which made her giggle.

Perfection… ha-ha!

The female singer's voice seemed to mockingly comment on the situation.

Your heart has almost broken once again this night. When you saw a drink nearby on a nearby table, you knocked it over without looking at the contents. Damn, it seemed like it was something very strong. Oliver returned with two cocktails, blocking you in every sense from this view. Smiling, you downed another cocktail in almost one sitting. Your head began to spin pleasantly again, pushing out unnecessary thoughts. You and Oliver danced a little. How fabulous he was in that outfit, your birthday boy. The music seemed to disappear for a while when you enjoyed this moment of dancing, without taking your eyes off each other.

Then, the music almost abruptly hit you with a throbbing headache and a heaviness in your eyelids and legs. It seems that fatigue and a sense of stress have returned, multiplied by repeated alcohol intoxication. Oliver led you through the entire crowd and all the rooms, almost every one of which had its own mini-party, until you found yourself on your floor. He carefully helped you undress and put you to bed. Your body ached pleasantly, feeling the soft mattress underneath and the duvet above.

"Good night, Ollie."

"Good night, Y/N," he said softly, "And... Sorry for everything."

"We sort of settled everything," you assured him, being sure that he was only talking about the events of the evening, and not about anything else, "Everything will be fine."

"Everything will be fine, that is for sure."

* * *

Oliver returned to the hall, a bottle of wine in his hand. Felix never let talk to him, literally sent him away, and Quick wanted to give him another chance. Or maybe he didn't want to anymore after Felix laid his eyes and not only the eyes on Y/N.

Catton Jr. danced merrily with his fairy, and then at some point took her by the hand and led her across the hall, outside. Oliver watched all this closely, gloomily drinking from a bottle, leaning against the wall.

Felix's clouded mind told him to finish the job, his regrets almost completely blocked by drugs, alcohol and the desire to lick his wounded ego. Therefore, his almost mindless brain led him down the road that he already knew well. Into the maze.

Oliver followed, his wrath building with each slow but firm step as he was running through all the events that had happened. Going to his parents without warning, ignoring his requests and pleas to stop, turn around, or at least not go with him. The discovery of the truth, the way Felix pushed him away, calling him a fucking liar, yet he had nosed into Oliver's life himself. The way fear and contempt were read in his eyes, mixed with an inner struggle whether to tell it all to everyone or not. To tell it to Y/N or not. The way he started turning Y/N against him. The way he started hitting on Y/N, especially now, knowing it all. And how he immediately traded you for some random girl. And all this was on the date of his birthday celebration.

No, there won't be a second chance, Oliver thought to himself as he poured a huge dose of the drug into the bottle.

It was tempting to say that Felix flew too close to the sun, but he was actually the sun himself. So dazzlingly bright and inviting. It was all the others who were too close to him in the rays of his destructive splendor and the hopes of living the same incredible life as his that endlessly flew up and burned. Besides, it was the middle of the night in Saltburn, so the allegory would be completely missed. However, in addition to those infamous wings, Daedalus created something else - the labyrinth of Knossos, where the Minotaur dwelled and suggested a horror, devouring beautiful young men.

Which meant that Icarus was destined to die anyway from the creation of Daedalus.

The dark antlered silhouette followed the winged youth with the confidence of a predator.

By stepping into this labyrinth, carefree Icarus himself signed the verdict of his fate.

* * *

It still seemed to you that all this was a terrible foggy ill dream from which you still could not wake up from. The scream that Felix had been found with was still ringing in your ears sometimes.

It had been a few days now, and you still couldn't believe that he was gone. No matter what, he was an angel. Childishly selfish, but still generous, open-hearted and always ready to help and support. You remembered his costume at the party and smiled bitterly. Really an angel. And even more so now.

You were so regretful that you didn't speak to him again that night. Were so sorry that you went to bed early and didn't see much. That you never knew that Felix and Farleigh were taking some drugs that night, to the point it was too much and too late, and Farleigh was anyhow to blame for it and he couldn’t save him. That you couldn’t save him.

You went into Oliver's room, but he hadn’t come yet. While waiting, you began to walk around the room, and suddenly saw a book by his bedside table, your birthday present. You sat down on the bed, picked up the book and began to look at it again. Icarus with golden wings, falling away from the sun. You ran your finger over the gold embossed cover. Tears welled up your eyes. Gods. You started crying uncontrollably, hot tears dripping right onto the cover of the book. Gently throwing the book on the bed, you buried your face in your hands and bent over in sobs.

"Y/N, what are you..." Oliver came into the room and rushed to hug you.

"Ollie... the book... I..." you spoke barely legibly through sobs. He began to calm you gently, squeezing you tightly in his arms, "I'm here, my darling, everything is fine."

He wish he could take away this pain that you were experiencing right now, but it was impossible to take away what he had caused himself. Yet he was sincerely comforting you, hugging and kissing you in the most caring way possible, "I'm here and I'll always be there, no matter what happens, you'll be safe and sound with me," his whispering was hot and assuring.

Oliver used to think that there was nothing better than the feeling when you comforted him. However, the way you looked at him with your eyes full of tears, trustfully snuggling closer, searching for his support and his consolation, it turned out to be a feeling on a completely different level. The way you needed him, him and no one else. And only he could grant you any relief. At that moment, he felt that he was close to the deity. Your personal deity.

And Oliver was ready to arrange a hundred more accidents to experience this feeling again.

A hundred? This was, of course, too much. But it was in his power to do a couple more.

He took a deep breath of your scent, burying his nose deeper into your hair and holding you closer. Besides, Saltburn looked like a lovely place for your future shared happily ever after.

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